I was a happily married homemaker and a mother of a three-year-old toddler. Like most independent women nowadays who feel content after getting a job and creating an identity for themselves, I was content being a homemaker, cooking for my family, packing my husband’s and children’s tiffin, and keeping the house spic and span. I was content taking care of my family while my husband took care of our financial needs and progressed in his career.

My life was perfect in every way till my husband one day came with a modern posh woman. He said,” Rayna, although I have been married to you for so many years, I don’t love you. I always wanted a modern independent working woman. You are just not my type. You can take our daughter’s custody and please divorce me so that I can start my new family with Meghna.”

I slouched on the floor. I did not have any tears to shed. I was qualified enough to get a job but voluntarily decided to leave my career behind so that my husband can make a mark in his professional life whilst I took care of our home, his parents, and our child. All these years of sacrifice and devotion rendered me unfit for his love and respect. I wiped my tears and signed the divorce papers, keeping my head high with dignity. However, I wished the other woman Meghna to suffer a thousand times more than I have. I want Karma to amplify magnanimously and hit both my ex-husband and Meghna in such a manner that they won’t be able to get up again on their feet.

Life now was harder than I had ever thought. Since I don’t have any work experience from the last five years, my qualifications do not matter at all. The situation for jobs was pathetic since the pandemic had just retreated. Finally, after knocking door to door and running from pillar to post, I got a job of a nanny.

I got a rented room for myself and my child adjacent to the house I used to work as a nanny. Whenever I got additional time, I would sell tiffin to earn more. It was extremely difficult to manage both my tiffin service business and the job of my nanny and additionally to look after my daughter who was just a toddler, but I did it. I had no choice. I had to do whatever it took for me to survive.

After around eight months, my tiffin service business grew as I started getting more orders in bulk. I left the job of a nanny and started focusing on my business. After three months, my business was at a stage where I could feed myself and my daughter by maintaining a decent middle-class lifestyle.

Although I have survived so bravely and beautifully, I still get to her taunts like, “Couldn’t you tie your husband to yourself?” As if my husband was an untrained dog who had to be tied up under all circumstances. What tore me apart was that my husband and that woman Meghna were apparently living an extremely happy married life and were even expecting children. This made people say that I was the one at fault, and at times, I questioned my self-worth.

Almost nine years have passed now. My daughter is thirteen. Although I have done my best as a single mother, I felt she had a void and would want to meet her father. Although I did not want to initiate the conversation, I knew my daughter had that right.

I went back to that house, where my world had torn apart into pieces. The door was opened. I could hear the cries of a woman. As I went inside, I saw my ex-husband, completely drunk hurling slurs and beating Meghna. Shades of concealer, applied to hide the marks of physical abuse, were visible on her face.

She came near me and fell on my feet, crying and begging with folded hands. Her state was so pitiable that for one moment, I forgot that she was the same woman who broke my home. As for my husband, alcohol-reduced him to a living corpse, only with the capacity to hurl slang.

Meghna wept, “After you left, we got married and soon, I was pregnant. But then, I had a terrible accident and a miscarriage. Doctors said that I would never be able to conceive again. We tried IVF multiple times but failed. Ever since then, he left his job and started drinking. I lost my job as well and had to deal with his verbal and physical abuse. I have been miserable ever since.”

This was all I wanted. I wanted the arrows of misery to pierce her so deeply that she fell down forever and would never be able to pick herself up again. But I don’t rejoice at her tragedy. Instead, I pick her up and wipe her tears. We go to the police station and complain about the man who destroyed the lives of two women. The courts will give him the punishment he deserves. In the meantime, I got Meghna a job through one of my referrals.

As the court proceedings were going on, we got news that my ex-husband had committed suicide by slitting his wrist. I took his body to perform his last rites. As the pyre was lit, Meghna and I silently watched the flames consume him, like he had consumed our solace.

After all the formalities were over, Meghna asked me, ‘Rayna, you built my life after I had destroyed yours. Have you forgiven me?”

I nonchalantly replied, "No, I haven’t and I never shall. But you know, God has gifted me with a dangerous gift - humanity."

.    .    .