“You are beautiful!”
“What’s your dream job?”
“To be a homemaker.”
“Are you kidding me? You are a postgraduate right?”
“Yes! I am.”
“Strange! Anyways what are you doing now-a-days?”
“Hahaha! Okay. Shall we join others?”
Our first encounter when he came to see me for marriage ended up that way. He didn’t seem convinced. But to my surprise he said yes for the marriage. I was on ninth cloud. Not because I could see a perfect husband in him but because I was going to be allotted one more house to be made home.
I have always been a bit introvert and shy girl, busy in my own world of perfectionism. The high paid jobs, travelling and shopping never allured me the way an opportunity to organise things at home did. I am not in love with cleanliness or beauty of beautiful things. I am in love with process of transformation. I am in love with every single node of the change including dust and waste itself. I am in love with the power of hands to transform things from awful to beautiful.
Our courtship period ended up beautifully. By then I was in love with all his perfections and imperfections. Even he loved me more than ever and I could sense that.
Two months had passed. I was comfortable in my new home by then. I remember there was a stillness in air that morning. I opened the window and started organising his wardrobe, shelf by shelf. From the lower right corner, I got a packet containing some white substance. I couldn’t make out what it was. I kept it on table and started sorting things again.
My husband arrived home in the evening.
“Is it something you need or should I throw it away? What is it by the way?” I enquired.
“I wanted to tell you about this since we met for the first time. It’s a… packet of drugs. I am sorry for making you prone to such situation. I am sorry for ruining you and your dreams of a perfect home. I tried my level best to leave addiction. But I am helpless. Things are getting worse. I am trapped. Only you can bring me out of it.”
He said that without taking a pause. As if he had to apply all the pauses to my life. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t react. I couldn’t even cry. My mind started recollecting; from his all day dizziness to his going out for walk in lawn at 2 or 3 every night; from his staying out all day to mood swings that I had to bear every day. So much was going on in me but I didn’t utter a word, wishing that he would say that he was joking. But he didn’t. He just hugged me and left.
Something took over me. It took away my power to differentiate; to differentiate between right and wrong; to differentiate between reality and illusion. Thoughts collided and exploded as if some war
was going on in my skull. Why did he do this to me? How easily he confessed it and left? Should I leave him? Would my parents support me? Can I change him?
I had never answered my soul with a ‘no’ to this particular question. And this question altogether changed everything. “After all I was here to convert his house to a home. May be we were destined to get married. May be he saw in me that calibre to bring change!”
And the journey of transformation began. The flood of emotions always accompanied us. I questioned my efforts every now and then. But there was never a look back. Three years have passed in this hustle to bring change. At last we survived against all odds. The belief in oneself of the ability to bring about a change in him won. He is altogether a changed person now. This journey has brought us closer than I ever thought. May be it was destined to happen that way.
Not just me, we all have that ability to bring out positive changes; in things around us, in our loved ones and in the society as well. The path may not be smooth enough but the view of destination would always be worth it. Scribble your thoughts and analyse what you hold within; analyse the power of your hands to bring transformations. We all have it in us.
In case you want to know what I am doing nowadays to bring about change – ‘I am busy organising stuff.’
~ Story of a friend in my words. Sorry, identity can't be revealed.