One Sunday morning, while cooking breakfast for her family, Isha was lost in her thoughts, planning the rest of her day. Suddenly, she was struck by a voice, her own voice echoing in her mind, saying, “I want to go home.” “Wow! What was that?” she exclaimed to herself.
Confused and intrigued, she sneaked a look at her family from a corner of the kitchen. Watching the life she had built for herself around her daughter and husband, she muttered to herself, “I have everything a woman can ask for: a supportive and appreciative husband, an amazing daughter, a top-notch career, a home built with love and passion, loved ones, respect in society, and all amenities at my disposal. But still, there is this sense of emptiness I can’t shake off.” She began to question the reasons behind this longing, despite having a seemingly perfect life.
As she started rolling back through her memories, her eyes saddened, and she realized how distant she was from Kamath, her husband. They hardly talked or shared anything. Being a working mom of such a young child, she always had something on her plate, and Kamath was always occupied with his job. Whatever time they had, they loved spending it with their daughter—watching her grow, walk, and dance with all her toddler moves. But as she walked down memory lane, she found that it wasn’t just the birth of her daughter that brought this gap between them. Perhaps it was because their marriage had no spark.
As she reflected on her expectations of romance, influenced by Bollywood movies, Isha realized the disparity between her fantasies and the reality of her relationship. Adjusting and holding onto the marriage were the basic conditionings with which a woman in India is brought up. She walked the same path as all the women in her ancestry had. Even though she stood by Kamath through thick and thin, the emotional gap between them loomed so large that she sometimes felt like an outsider in her own home and family. “I just don’t feel at home, as part of this family…” she reciprocated to herself.
Throughout the day, Isha’s mind continued to wander back to those echoing words, prompting her to reach out to her mother, her only friend. Unaware of the voice in her head, she sought solace in their conversations. Isha was entangled in a web of connections and obligations, chasing her ambitions, oblivious to her true self. She chased her fake desires relentlessly and ran away from her fears, bursting in anger when inflicted with pain.
