Even so, I behaved as if everything was fine and I had no problems. I used to tell my husband every day, “Go, find some work, it’ll be better.” My in-laws would get very upset about this and would say, “Look at her, she’s telling her husband to go earn money,” and they would scold me harshly. Life became such that I felt I wasn’t even like a living corpse—because even a corpse eventually ends, it’s cremated. But I was stuck in between, with death on my mind all the time. My family back home also said, “What’s done is done, now this is your whole life.” When I’d remember those words, I would think, “What do I do now? The situation at my in-laws’ is like this, and at my parents’ is that.”
I never pinned my hopes on my parents because my mother is a bit different, and by then, I’d placed all my faith in God—only He would do what had to be done. I trusted Him deeply—so much so that when I first went out to work, I earned very little and my children used to fall ill. Before leaving for my job, I would leave my children under God’s care—placing a picture of Him with some medicine—and tell my daughter, “Take this medicine, give it to your sibling if needed; I’ll come back in the evening.” I did my job at the company, but spent the whole day remembering God—Durga Ma—saying, “Mother, she’s not really my daughter, she’s yours, so please watch over her until I return.” I’d say this and go to work without worry, confident that my daughter would be fine.
When I returned home in the evenings, I always brought something with me—my kids would eat it. That was part of my daily routine. Even to this day, my children have never asked for anything or thrown a tantrum. If I handed them 10 rupees, they would just keep it aside and wouldn’t buy anything themselves. I’d say, “Go buy something,” but they wouldn’t. Other kids eat various things from shops all day, and I’d think maybe my children would want to as well, but they didn’t. Until now, they’ve had this habit that if I bring something, they’ll eat it, otherwise they won’t go to the shop on their own. My daughter is in 12th grade now and still does the same—she only eats what’s at home, doesn’t go out, doesn’t roam around, and doesn’t overthink. She just eats, goes to school, sleeps—that’s how it has been until now.
These days, I pray to God, saying: “Oh God, I don’t have big dreams, but please make something good happen,” because I’ve raised her through a lot of hard work, taught her well. I’ve faced many hardships myself but never let my daughter suffer because of it. Yes, maybe she had some small discomforts, but given my own conditions, I protected her from much of it, especially ensuring she ate well and studied.
When my daughter’s first birthday came around, I wanted to buy her new clothes and asked my father-in-law to bring them from a shop in the village (a bit far). I saved every little bit of money myself but realized that if I went, I’d have to pay for transportation, so I asked my father-in-law to bring them. I wrote a short note for the shopkeeper, thinking, “My father-in-law will provide some clothes for my daughter, so why not give him a note explaining her size and which outfit to get,” since we didn’t have phones at that time. I handed him the note, saying it had the dress measurements and which dress I wanted. My father-in-law brought it. They never let my husband go anywhere, saying, “Where would he go? We’ll bring it.” My father-in-law’s mindset is odd—even now he’s that way. He doesn’t let his older son do any work; I don’t know what kind of parents they are.
I was very stressed living in the village under those conditions and kept telling my husband, “Go find work outside,” but he couldn’t manage it and would come back. That’s how 20 years passed—my childhood and youth went by without me even realizing it. In that span, I had two children, and then I left on my own to find work. At the time, I was still quite young and not very mature. Yes, I avoided getting too close to men or being interested in them, though I did talk to them. My friends would say, “You should have a friend you can chat with, to pass the time—you’re so different.” But I’d say, “No, everyone should do their duty, but don’t waste time hanging out pointlessly. I’m not interested in men.” They would reply, “Not all men are the same; at least talk to them,” but I wouldn’t.
Some guys would ask for my mother’s phone number, saying: “You always get angry, you answer back sharply, but we still like you.” I never dressed up for work—just went simply—because I believed if you dress up too much, it might attract attention, and I didn’t want that. So I stayed the way I was.
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