I Let Him ‘Make Love’ Again And Again Because I Was Horrified Of Him

By Oliva Das:

I am a woman. They say I come in diversified forms. I am a goddess. I am a creator. I am a lover, I love with passion, I love with devotion and I love selflessly. I am a mother, I sacrifice. I am a daughter, I obey without any question. I am a woman. I suffer.

Sometimes I feel like the world is whispering around me, “Equal rights!”, “Men and Women should be given the same priority”, “Why are women lagging behind?” and other meaningless, clichéd falsehoods.

marital rape

These sentiments are nothing but a web of deceit. The men say that a woman must get the “best place” everywhere. But I’m only relegated to the kitchen, working all day and watching my dreams burn into ashes. Or I find myself singing piteously for a drunken bachelor, bitter singles, a frustrated husband, or a jilted lover in the bar; or dancing naked around a slender metal, for a man’s bachelor party in the strip club.

Perhaps even from my mother’s womb, I knew I was about to take birth as the most cursed yet the most beautiful creature in the world. I knew behind every successful man, I will be there but will still be tortured, molested and beaten to death. I knew that every single time, my story would be hushed and disregarded. I had been immune to these slights and accustomed to marginalization, until now.

Here I, a woman, take matters in my own hands and present testimony for my own condition, one of my overshadowed identities:

“Hold me close and hold me fast
This magic spell you cast,
This is la vie en rose.
When you kiss me, heaven sighs,
And though I close my…”

And thus I tuned to my melody and sang what I loved, when he interrupted me.

“Sshhhhh!” my husband whispered gratingly. “Keep quiet, okay! It’s the most annoying song I have ever heard. Don’t know why you keep singing this all the time.” said my husband. “Aah! Stop crying my darling, stop crying. You don’t look like the most beautiful wife in the world, when you keep crying like this.” I couldn’t stop myself. He was hurting me.

“Don’t you understand what I am trying to explain you? I asked you something, care to answer me?” he shouted. He pressed my neck hard, hard enough to create a lump on my throat, I was unable to breathe and cry, unable to free myself from the nauseating, suffocating world I was living in.

My husband was a good guy. Humble, decent, caring and rich. At least that’s what I knew about him before I was pinned down in wedlock with him. Yes, it was an arranged marriage. But there was one thing though which will remain unbroken throughout the years we live and in the afterlife. We both loved each other. Every time we faced a sticky situation, I acquiesced without a complaint. All I wanted from him was to love me more and more with each passing day. It’s just that he gets a little angry too easily, you know. I tried to never mind it. After all, my dad had a temper too. They say it is the identity of manhood. But, my dad never used to beat my mother when she used to break a vase while cleaning the room, or when she used to forget sweetening the coffee. I mean I had always dreamt of my husband as a knight in a shining armor, staring at me like I am the most beautiful woman in the world, protecting my body with his arms, fusing with my skin and get engrossed like…like a child who had just found his favorite candy.

You know, the way he used to hold me while beating me till I screamed, I used to feel like it was the somber touch of a loving husband. For once I used to think we were making love and spending the eternity of our lives together. Little did I know that he hid this demon inside him, which silenced the most compelling human feeling- Love.

That day, I knew it was coming. I knew the day that I dreamt of, was that day. It was the first time he was exchanging glances with me. God, his eyes! I smiled. I was shy, you know. But he didn’t smile…it was bizarre the way he was looking at me. Not that I was too surprised, since it was the first time. I thought maybe this is the way he is indicating to me, ‘Come Darling, let’s make love to the moon and back.’ We did. Yes, we made love. Several times. Too much. I cried.

It was just that he never slowed down because I was his spring of pleasure. All he did was race up and down my living carcass, lashing against my pointless flesh and futile bones like a newborn thunderstorm. All I remember about myself was that I was screaming at the top of my lungs and trying to find a way to get out of the misery and the torture. And do you know what the best part was? I let him ‘make love’ again, and again, and again, not because I had dreamt of those moments, but because I was horrified of him.

People say I murdered him. Really, did I? I want no sympathy, certainly not after years of being unheard. I just crave relief, to let my heart out screaming to people, “I couldn’t do it anymore, I couldn’t do it anymore!”

And for all the people who never heard me when I begged for help including the Women’s Help Society and the Nivedita Mental Asylum, I did not kill him, he killed me. He destroyed every living organ, every tiny piece of me. He destroyed my womb. And yes, he killed the baby inside it. But I still love him, like he said he loved me. After all, that should be the trait of a so-called Indian married women right, loyalty towards your husband?

I never forget to put sugar in the coffee now. I never break a vase either. I am sure, we’ll never stop loving each other, and the next time he takes birth, we will be made for each other.

This woman, confessing to the readers right now, is still searching for the light at the end of the tunnel. Light that eludes vision, vision that eludes pretense.

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional account

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41 Responses

  1. Abhijit

    Dear author,

    I hear you, and find your situation really heartbreaking. I will not doubt that you love each other, but will say that love is only one of many facets of life. And sometimes, one has to set the right balance by lowering the weight on love.

    My only advice or thought to you is this-
    Do what you’d want your daughter to do if she was in your situation.

    Thanks,
    Abhijit

    Reply
    • Oliva Das

      Thank you so much for appreciating this piece so much.
      But, I am a student currently pursuing B.Tech from KIIT University. The plain motive of this article was to make people come closer, and remember this woman, for she might be painting smiles in front of them, but her heart is screaming on the inside. She might seem accustomed to her pain, but she is angry, she is naked, hollow and vulnerable. And this is how, she screams to them, broken, collapsed and trying to find all the pieces of her heart. She isn’t there, but she is still there, trying.

      Reply
      • Preeti

        Hi Oliva,

        Very beautifully written, I cant express my words.
        Hard to believe that u r a student. Thanks sooo much for showing our emotions.
        I am Preeti did my MBA in HR through Andhra University and got placed in IBM as HR service administrator. I belongs to a family of four, born and bought up in Jamshedpur. I got married last year. I was very happy when I got married. As i got married at a very young age he meant everythng for me. My first love,,first date everything was with him. But then it never goes as per our vsh list. As u described each situation I can see myself there. I found myself there in your article. After all such things happened to me,I cudnot stop myself to come out of his place. And now I am staying with my parents. But I still love him.
        I believe love happens only once and for me it happened.
        I believe Marriage happens only once and for me it happened.
        I still want him to realize and come back. Thanks once again.

  2. Anubhav Shankar

    Ma’am this might sound a bit hollow especially from a guy given the ordeal you have been through, but, all I can say is I am HORRIFED and this confession will be something I would never let my future wife write.

    Thank You.

    Regards
    Anubhav

    Reply
    • Sukriti

      I think the fact that you think you should control what your future wife writes or not is horrifying.

      Reply
      • sia

        Really? And this is why people look down upon feminism. What he clearly meant was he would NOT cause grief to his wife that she ends up writing a post about what she suffered like the author above…Not frikking controlling what she writes or not… :|

      • Kartik

        What he meant was that he would never give his future wife any reason to feel that way and not control what she would or would not write.

      • Anubhav Shankar

        I only meant to say that I shall never give her a reason to write such a confession in the first place.

        Plz re-read my comment.

        Thank You.

    • D Gill

      Anubhav, then don’t give your future wife a reason to write such a thing then. What are people supposed to do? Not speak out when they are victims of violence?

      Reply
      • Anubhav Shankar

        What I meant was this is the kind of experience I wouldn’t want my future wife to have , that’s it I am not violating her fundamental right to express herself.

        Plz read my comment again.

        Thank You.

    • Oliva Das

      I would like to take that as a compliment, thank you.
      And Sir, it is not up to you whether you let your future wife write such kind of a confession or not, the point of writing this whole piece is not letting men put women in this petrifying situation, let alone write about it.

      Reply
      • Anubhav Shankar

        Yes Ma’am all I meant was that this is the kind of petrifying situation in which I would never put my future wife, so that she would never need to write about a horrible experience like this. I never once indicated that I have any desire to violate her fundamental right to express herself.

        Thank You.

  3. doc

    Hi..I am a survivor of domestic violence…and I know what you mean that every organ, every emotion inside you was killed…every tiny piece was killed… my pieces died too…I am still trying to reclaim them and I find they are long dead and I need to make new ones…the post traumatic shock and stress and depression are my friends now. Did he turn me insane…on one level yes….but like someone said…be crazy enough for your own sanity, appear sane enough for the world’s sanity. So what have I done…I have simply started talking about my story to anyone who listens…I don’t take his name or badmouth him….I am simply restating my story from my view….over and over again…to validate it and validate myself… and kudos to you for bringing it out in the open. You go sister…you go…you rock…

    Reply
  4. Shahid

    Madam your Story tore me apart. I had learnt and I believe that women is not less than Aristotle or Plato. Her heaven is not in feet of man nor does her life lie in pulsating tears. She is a tempest and she has to go at par with man.

    It shook me. I wonder was he a beast.

    Sympathies!

    Shahid

    Reply
    • Oliva Das

      Haha. :D I would think about that next time I write one such piece.

      Reply
  5. ritesh kr prasad

    tears rolled down my eyes while reading this, sometimes i really feel ashamed of being a man, i mean why this species is so hypocrite, emotionless,shameless.LAW and Women rights should be taught at secondary level,to help men evolve aa a good humanbeing.

    Reply
  6. DashS.

    Oh the plight of loyalty and Indian woman( P.S not every lady). But personally I have known people who didn’t split with their partners mostly in fear of ‘society’ and few others who couldn’t break up with their boyfriends as they weren’t ‘pure’ anymore for a second chance, marriage. there are a lot of girls and guys too who stay in a relationship only because its been too long to part and hurt their partner anymore. Its really sad to see humans killing their dreams and accepting abuse in the name of love, marriage and friendship. Olivia, i can feel every word of your heart rending experience . Its time you take a stand.
    I just hope you get a lot of love that you deserve totally. God bless you girl .

    Reply
  7. Rucha

    whoa……..the best thing ive probably ever read…and I’ve read a lot.

    Reply
  8. Oliva Das

    Thanking all for such kind comments and appreciation.
    Thanks a lot!

    Reply
  9. neha

    Tears was all I was left with after reading ur confession.
    I believe nobody can help you, but yourself.
    It will take time but you will come out of this..
    The miseries you went through I can just pray for you to heal..

    Reply
  10. Sadho

    Thank you for sharing, and for introducing to such a fantastic song. It wasn’t shocking to read an account of domestic violence so intimately written, rather it was an extremely heartwrenching experience.

    Reply
  11. Deepali Kundu

    I hope its not a realy story, i wish its a fiction becuz while reading it…i was feeling that its happening to me…but can never imagine to face such a situation…well done to the writer… A big salute

    Reply
  12. din

    well it happens everyday in most homes in india…coz an average indian is a hippocrite/racist/fundamentalist/judgemental…open eyes wide open its happenin to ur mom…and this woman who wrote this over here is is taught to seek a knight with armour ..herself as goddess….virtually a commodity to be cherished…and practically sold in the indian market ….and majority are comf being sold….wat kind of love can u expect from a buyer….not to exonerate any men off their will/want to buy,these men would buy anything..but just donot sell urself.This is not isolated to a man’s doings the entire system including the mothers r hell bent on the indian so called happy-family-system not withstanding the happiness of her girl herself.Well it took an hour of talking and logical questioning to convince my mom (who’s hell bent against love marriages) that her arranged marriage is kind of failed in terms of love but a perfect marriage with 2 NRI kids to the societies eyes.There are 2 kinds of analysis to assesss a disaster scientifically..immediate cause..root cause…wen root cause analysis puts the entire system in question at fault not to mention the devil of indian male who occupies the larger volume but its not isolated to just him, even she is a part of the system who has seen his “humble,decent,caring,rich” traits rather than actually date him and measure if he worths her.My argument doesn’t exonerate men off their primary responsibility for the plight.however shed these god forsaken retarded portion of the family values with bravery / die in pain dinesh- a not so sympathizer,but a good friend

    Reply
  13. Rachita

    Wow..every word touched me and I was in a trance as if all this took place in front of me .Great soul touching style of writing. One of the best pieces here!! Congratulations for putting up this article. Keep up the good work ! Keep writing .. Best of luck :)

    Reply
  14. Anindita

    It is heart wrenching. There lies a piece of us in there.

    How do we stop this? By economic liberation? Sure that is one step in the right direction. But also by finding oneself. By not looking for “love” from outside. When is no need for someone to love you to make you complete, to make you worthy. When you are no longer ashamed at what is happening to you. When you love and accept yourself, you will stop the violence fearlessly, for no longer are you fearful of the man or the society you live in. You will then tell the story and stop the violence.

    Women can continue to fight for their rights. But men will give it to you, only when they themselves are free, free of their demons. This happens only in a peaceful progressive society. When women don’t have to fight for it no more, you are living in one. Till that time, we have to cry, not in silence.

    Reply
  15. Monistaf

    Quote “I am a woman. They say I come in diversified forms. I am a goddess. I am a creator. I am a lover, I love with passion, I love with devotion and I love selflessly. I am a mother, I sacrifice. I am a daughter, I obey without any question. I am a woman. I suffer.”.

    How does this sound?

    I am a man, they tell me that I too come in many forms, I am a God, without me, there is no creation, I am also capable of loving selflessly with equal passion, and devotion. I am a father, I too sacrifice for my family. I am a son and obey without question. I am a man, I too suffer.

    So, what is new?

    Reply
  16. Shubham Singh

    A beautifully crafted piece! I must say when it comes to writing. Well done Oliva…The situation portrayed is very disquieting yet accustomed.

    Reply
  17. Suresh Arya

    I dont find it a fiction at all. The real story with all hard truth of Indian society.

    Reply
  18. abhinav kaushal

    dear u jst made me understand what women is and for wht wwe shld fight for and also u made me emotional although i dint cry but u made my tears trickle down my cheeks bt anyways dis is beautifully crafted

    Reply
  19. Arunava Chatterjee

    Perfectly written, and hits the nail on the head. Marital rape is the social norm in the lion’s share of the developing world, and the incredulity and shock with which people have responded in this very thread is testament to our wide-eyed blindness to the cesspit we live in, and build and rebuild for ourselves.

    To the people defending the person who wrote something along the lines of not letting his prospective wife write such a confession, here is my advice: when someone puts something down in print, it is their responsibility to not LET themselves be misunderstood (funny how the word let comes in here, eh). People over a written medium can’t judge your tone of voice, they can’t see your unspeakably sad face. Watch what you write. Watch what you think.

    No, I’m not a militant feminist. I’m a man who sees the reality and is sufficiently disgusted by it.

    Reply
  20. Anisa Gouher

    This is what I call 21thC crude reality . It’s wt today’s society is made of where women’s are reduced to machines , silenced and muted… It’s a masterpiece.. I appreciate you for doing justice to writing. Very truthful n I was feeling every bit of it.. It’s the time !! India needs feminism..

    Reply
  21. Shweta Sachdeva

    The saddest part is the Indian Judiciary itself not being able to be brave enough to add a provision against marital rape because they fear it would “tear marriages apart”. It indeed is saddening to see how despite having the power to change so many lives, they choose to apparently “maintain the sanctity of marriage” by not criminalizing marital rape.

    Reply