Shilpa Suraj on Love, Marriage, and Other Disasters
(a guest post)
‘Divorced,’ ‘Ice Queen,’ ‘Snob,’ ‘Homewrecker,’ ‘Damaged’ – These are just some of the labels applied to Alisha, the heroine of Love, Marriage, and Other Disasters. Whether they are deserved, true or even just required, labels are less about who the person truly is and more about how people wish to slot them.
When I was growing up, relatives would often tell my parents to stop giving me ‘ideas.’ Because a girl having actual ideas would be the worst thing in the world, wouldn’t it? And my parents telling me that I could study as much as I want and grow up to be whoever and whatever I want were the worst possible ideas they could give me.
What society called giving me ideas, my parents called allowing me to dream. To reach higher, to aim further and to aspire for the world, if that’s what I wanted. No matter how far fetched my goal, their answer to every ambition I espoused was ‘Why not?’
And so, I grew up without worrying about societal prejudices and familial judgements. Unfortunately, I also grew up. And when you step out of the comfortable cocoon of your childhood and your parents home, you realise just how difficult it is to escape, to ignore or to deny the rest of the world’s opinion on you and how you should live your life.
Difficult but not impossible. And that’s why I faced the world with the same bravado that Alisha does in Love, Marriage, and Other Disasters. For when your loved ones have your back, it’s easy to face forward with confidence.
When my protagonist, Alisha, walks out on an abusive relationship, she doesn’t feel the need to justify her decisions to the world. And for that, she is labeled arrogant, snooty and in the eyes of men ‘available.’
Labels – Not true, not required, not deserved.
If only, we could learn to be humans first, to view others as humans first. People often say, “Children are a blank slate. It’s what the world writes on them that then defines who they become.”
I think it’s true of each one of us. We are a blank slate. And we should write our own stories. Not the stories that the others would like us to script.
Just like Alisha eventually did. It’s only then that we truly own our happy-ever-afters.