Fallen into a Pattern

If not a trap..

An incident that has happened very recently has taken me back to a memory lane that I had never imagined I would walk again. I was all of 17. It has scarred my life permanently. Even if the wounds heal; memories remain, scars last- sometimes forever. These scar then becomes the tell tale signs.

My cooking gas cylinder had gone empty a few days back. I didn’t tell him that I needed a refill. I am tired of asking for even the basic things. It’s not booked in my name so I couldn’t call up the agency to do that either. I am still leading a nomadic life. At times I do feel sorry about this. This is exactly what happens when you are forced to lead a life of an illegal orphan from childhood onwards. Without a parental name or permanent address; it’s difficult to file for government department related papers. You tend to lead a life being dependent on others.

Often on man!

Isn’t that how our present day Society designed? It’s considered natural and traditional to paste a label of that of a man. Doesn’t matter how much you may be getting abused; it’s always respected to be with a man. Or else; you are a high flying street walker.

Instance 1

I was being forced out of my home after my had mom died. My dad had abandoned our family way back when I was 12. My uncle was cousin maternal uncle who was helped by my mom n dad both to plan out his career; when they themselves were struggling to survive. There were 2 gas cylinders booked in my dad’s name. My uncle had booked one in his name much later. The brands were different. Why I am telling you this is because the day I was to move out of my uncle’s house, I was allowed to take only 1 cylinder. The 2^nd one was of a different brand. I quite didn’t understand how!

It was a set- up well planned by my uncle. He had pretended that when my neighbors had borrowed a filled one in exchange of an empty one and money, I had given them a different brand! Farce. My uncle had arranged to place a different cylinder so I could not pick up both the cylinders. But why did I have to think of that now?

Instance 2

The blotch I had stayed with had never arranged for the cylinder to be refilled. He had made me cook on a kerosene stove for over a year. It was only after I had completed my college, so I could save what I would earn that that cylinder was refilled. Is there any relevance to think of him anymore?

Instance 3

My ex was not at all interested to be my man. He was busy playing his role as his mother’s boy! I was not allowed to step inside their kitchen so I had my cylinder operating in small pantry like area upstairs- at the 2^nd floor where I stayed. Since that was a metro city; it wasn’t difficult to get that refilled at a higher rate though. All through the years that I have stayed on my own till I committed a mistake of marrying Hemant, I used to get that cylinder refilled. My landlord would help me whenever I needed a refill.

Today

After 3 days of no gas to cook; a small cylinder that is used by the slum dwellers or by the people who don’t live a decent life style for want of money was brought in. Using a different regulator than the usual one, it has been fitted so I prepare my food. The place I stay is not like a regular metro. There’s no mode of transport that’s available locally. You only step out of your house if you drive or call for a taxi.

The man who had wanted to play my provider’s part has reduced me to my domestic maid’s level.

She is watching everything closely. The lady who has been looking upto me for her things so far; now finds me standing next to her. So do I. She could today tell me a thing or two I need to know about this one. This man has succeeded where all other men have failed- caging me domesticated and helpless.

It doesn’t really matter what age a man is- most certainly he will shy away from his duties. He could have very well arranged to place an extra cylinder at my house; he hasn’t, not that I haven’t ever suggested that to him. He may have not asked for one to his extended family either. My question is; if he has problems talking about me to his folks, why the hell should he be talking about or meeting my friends? The idea sounds ridiculous to him- not that I care anymore.

Plucking the marigolds to show those off to his dad from my garden last year- just what was the big fun really? It’s been since August 2007; and he couldn’t take this “arrangement” any forward! It’s a shame to call this a relationship. It’s a mess that I am stuck into. The transition made me see things and appreciate the depth or the lack of it. I am completely detached now- mentally. It’s not love I am referring to here; my priority is to survive and with dignity.

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