My Independent Identity - Last part in English Motivational Stories by Hiral Zala books and stories PDF | My Independent Identity - Last part

My Independent Identity - Last part

And then -

And yesterday night -
Some neighbours had come. They were talking about elections. Ravi supported Vanita;: Isha opposed it vehemently. Suddenly Ravi flared up, 'You keep quiet, what do you know about politics?'
Isha was furious : 'And you think you understand everything? Just because you are a man?!,
And before anyone could understand what was happening Ravi had slapped. Isha tightly.
After slapping her, he too was nonplussed and dumbfounded. Silence spread through the room. The neighbours walked away murmuring a couple of indistinct remarks.
Isha lay awake the whole night. Submission, merging one's identity in one's husband's etc. etc. had always appeared meaningless to her. She considered that keeping one's desires, expectations and demands to the minimum, living with trust and respect, giving rather than e pecting sórnething, being generous and patient - all these were the natural offshoots of love. But were these things for me only? Is Ravi supposed to do nothing for a live together? .
If the anger had been momentary, she would have saved that moment with her love. ...
But this was not merely a single incident. It was a convention. A convention lasting for centuries. This convention is not acceptable under any circumstance - be it for love, for family life or a healthy society - a woman had been asked to sacrifice for so many things. Now it is not necessary to bear..
Isha got up with a sigh. She collected clothes and jwellery which she considered her own. Cash object - she took everything which was rightfully hers.she put them in the suitcase with what enthusiasm she had bought everything in his companionship. Her cupboard was now empty. At whose cost this emptiness? Her's or Ravi's

She took a sheet to write a farewell letter. She wanted to say everything, clarify everything and then go. She had come by right
and will leave by right. Not because Ravi doesn't desire it, but because she doesn't desire it. One can't do everything in life because of the desire of others, even if that other person is one's husband. To live with such a man -
A man like this! . . ... .
The word hurt her and a little blood oozed out. She flopped down. The house looked lonely as if she had taken leave a long time back. Suddenly those early lovely days came and sat by her to tell everything from the beginning. Shyam had brought the lovely light-coloured writing pad saying: 'Take, draw your Rangoli on this, which she now took out to write.
Why spoil such lovely paper?'
'Nothing gets spoilt. Whatever you touch becomes beautiful.'. . . . . . .
She turned the sheet around. She smelt it a little. There was still some perfume in it. It was Ravi's habit; he would put a wad of perfumed cotton wool in the gifts he gave her. There would be a fragrance all around. Once Isha had said : 'Why.don't you put a peacock feather?'
Ravi had left Isha and gone away. Our love will live eternally
'Yes, just like this star, like this sky, like this night, like this sun.
Ravi had so many special ways. 'He would finger Isha 's hair and say: Find out my middle finger from this heap.'
When he fell ill he would get emaciated. His smile would wither even if he had a slight headache. Isha would give him ! strength. He would sit up with her support..

At the office, the promotion which was his due went to someone else. His pride was hurt. He was dejected. Isha had supported him then, . .
Who will support him now?. Ravi will no doubt be unhappy because of her going away.
Who will pacify him? . His pride is his limitation. But then no one is perfect.. Shouldn't I remove his limitations with patience? Shouldn't one endure one's own whatever he is?
He had formed the habit of getting angry lately. At heart he is nice. he hasn't given a place in his heart to anyone except me. How will he live alone without me? Who will collect his scattered things and arrange them carefully? Who will he be angry with?" And whose hand will he hold on a moonlit night and sit quietly.
This was probably not good. Going away like this. Ravi could be made to understand. Possibly he did not even realize that the traditional belief of ownership had crept into his behaviour unconsciously.
She stood holding pen and paper. She looked at the two packed suitcases. Her heart sobbed. Ravi - I had loved you very much...
The bell, rang. Oh - she had forgotten that it was time for Ravi's return. She kept the pen and paper aside and quickly. opened the door. Ravi walked in. Looking at Isha dressed up, he said without smiling : What, are you going out? Haven't I told you often that you should finish your outings before I come back home?' And he went in.
So he didn't even remember last night's incident. . Isha cast a dejected look at his back. 'Some people are not worth forgiving and loving...', she thought painfully and then she stepped out of the open door and shouted : 'Taxi!'.

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