The struggle for independence

The fight to keep independence of spirit despite the shackles of family can be an arduous but worthwhile struggle….By RANI JHALA.

Just after my 21^st birthday, I came to Sydney for my best friend’s wedding. Tina had been dating Mark, an Australian cricketer, but the wedding in the Land Down Under had come as a surprise.

We arrived three days before the wedding. I was put up at Mark’s aunt place. And there I met her son, Jared. By the end of the day he and I were being called an item. After Tina left on her honeymoon, our group stayed on an extra week to see the city. By the end of that week Jared and I knew that we had truly found love, and that neither of us could ignore what we felt.

The night before I was to fly out Jared proposed and without any hesitation, I accepted. Jared was everything I had hoped for in a partner.

My parents too expressed their happiness. Their only request was to have the wedding in India so that relatives could attend. Jared’s plan that we marry straight away was put aside, but they agreed to a short engagement.

At Jared’s request I cancelled my stopover in Singapore and stayed on in Sydney. I organised to catch up with the group on the last leg of the trip back to India.

I think they understood the need to be thankful for each day, for they knew that tomorrows were never guaranteed.

The next couple of days with Jared were magical. People say that western families are not as close knit as Asian ones, but I saw a different side. The whole family was tied by a humungous knot of love and respect. They lived each day to the fullest and slept each night in peace. I think they understood the need to be thankful for each day, for they knew that tomorrows were never guaranteed.  That was because Jared was in the armed forces, and the family had learnt to live with uncertainty.

Jared saw me off at the airport, and for the first time I saw misty eyes on a man in uniform. My brother was also in the Army in India  but he had ensured that he never displayed his soft side to us. When I remarked on this, Jared replied, “Ah, but he must not yet be in love!”

If I left in the bloom of happiness, I arrived to the depth of silence. No one wanted to talk about my engagement, my fiancé or even my trip. It was as if these episodes never occurred.

I rang Jared’s mum to let her know that I had reached safely. She promised to ring me back after she had contacted Jared. Worried at her long silence in the next few days, I rang her again later, only to learn that she had tried to call me on three occasions and each time had been told that I was unavailable. On confronting my parents, I was told of their true feelings. For them, Jared did not even exist. They had found a perfect son-in-law from the same community, social standing and faith.

I did not want to hurt them, but I knew that I was being given one chance at happiness and I was not going to lose it for anyone. But I didn’t realise the battle I was taking on. In this century where every crime is protected by law, I was turned into a virtual prisoner. My work place was informed that I was unwell, my mobile was taken away and all communication banned. My only contact to the outside world was the newspaper and my only ally, the family maid. Through her I smuggled out two letters – one was to Tina and the other to Jared. In them, I explained all.

I later found out that both had called. I sent another letter to Jared offering to end the relationship. Again all calls were intercepted and denied.

Destitute and forlorn I clung on to hope, and that hope turned to sheer joy when I saw a tiny ad in the classified section of the newspaper that read, “It is too late to accept your offer. Jared”.

My fear turned to horror when I heard that Jared had arrived in India and worse, that they had reported him for ‘stalking’.

And so began a month-long communication. Somehow through an uncle, my parents found out. Two days later I was flown to my aunt’s home interstate. No maid, no newspapers! There I learnt that my marriage had been arranged. I was to fly straight to the altar on the morning of the wedding. My fear turned to horror when I heard that Jared had arrived in India and worse, that they had reported him for ‘stalking’. I was given a single warning – communicate with him and he goes to prison!

Surrounded by uncles, I saw no hope of escape as the plane soared into the sky. Then I saw an angelic vision. An airhostess beckoned me to the rear, towards the toilets. No word was exchanged but a note was passed into my hands. “Be ready to marry me. Jared”.

The plane landed and my brother greeted us. I was locked into his car and the cavalcade moved off. At the first roundabout, our car broke rank and turned left. I fretted as it turned into a narrow alley and then stopped. My brother turned to me and said, “I am fighting to keep our country’s independence safe; you go and fight to keep your love!” With that he pointed towards a white van, and the man standing besides it. I hugged my brother, and ran towards Jared.

We married on reaching New Delhi and then flew out to Singapore. It was August 15 – the day India celebrated winning its Independence. Now I too had won mine. Not from the country that gave me birth, but from the people that gave me life.

I stayed in Singapore with Jared’s friends until my Australian visa was approved.  Jared had to return to work. In India, my brother ensured that the police records were cleared, but was unable to change my parents’ views.

Three years later I still dread each time Jared gets assigned to a foreign post. But from his mother I have learnt to live each day to the fullest, and to be grateful for what I have. I do not waste time regretting that my child will never know her maternal grandparents because I have to ensure that my child does not miss out on knowing her dad.