I ran away from home

I ran away from home.

It was 2 am. Barefoot. Blood dripping from my feet. In tears. Hurting, unbearably.

I was 25 when my Maa and Baba died. My relatives got me married one week after I turned 26 to the guy I was seeing then.

Initially, it was all magical and wonderful, as they almost always are.

He was my lifeline.

He became my one last chance at having a normal family again.

However within a few months things started changing drastically.

It began with the little things. He was rude. Irritated. Busy with work. He needed personal space.

Never wanted to be around me. Wanted to go on trips with his friends/colleagues and I was always barred from meeting them or talking to them. He came home whenever he wanted.

Would lie to me about going to his office and disappear. Anxious whenever I'd be around his phone.

This was just the beginning -- the beginning of the sad, miserable, and heartbreaking tale that was to follow.

Then came the blame game.

I was not pretty enough. My sense of style wasn't good enough. I wasn't able to satisfy him as and when he wanted. Be what he wanted.

Then, he crushed my soul as I was barely getting by.

He said that he didn't even want to get married.

Sympathy was the reason for our union. He felt suffocated. He wanted to be alone. He didn't want a family.

Finally, emotional torture. Mental abuse. I wasn't worthy. He was doing me a favour. I needed to stop crying for my parents.

I was weak because I couldn't get over my parents’ death quick enough and pretended to be sad because I wanted attention.

By this time I was completely broken.

I wanted to kill myself.

I could neither eat nor sleep. I was declared clinically depressed and was on therapy and heavy medication for 5-6 months.

Since this is India, relatives and in-laws got involved.

Everyone advising me to be patient --

A wife's duty is to be patient and adjusting. No one would want a divorced woman. Again and again and again until I started to question my sanity.

Then one fateful night, he lost it completely.

He hit me -- he hit me again and again and again and again.

I started to bleed. I thought he was going to kill me. In one final act of desperation, I ran.

Barefoot and bleeding. He took away my phone and purse so I couldn't contact anyone.

I ran over pebbles and mud with my bleeding foot. My survival instinct had kicked in.

I did not feel pain. Just blinding rage and determination to leave this godforsaken "holy" matrimony.

I was taken to a hospital and had 10 sutures on my right foot.

I was bedridden for a month. Everybody came to know about the incident.

I had had enough.

I applied for divorce and now I live alone with my pets.

My relatives have abandoned me. I'm shamed. Mocked. Talked about. Laughed at.

But, I'm happy.

I've found peace. I'm independent. Earning. Whole. Full and enough.

My life, this chapter in this long and heartbreaking story has taught me something.

Something, that took years and months and days and hours and minutes for me to learn and understand.

If you can't save yourself, no one else will.

-Pratiti Guha

Public Relations Department at South Eastern Railway (2017–present)