Even Goddesses Have Their Limits: Learning to Walk Away

I’m a divorcee. I have been for many years now. I’ve never hidden this fact. But I also never imagined my marriage would end the way it did. Then again, who does?

We all grow up believing our marriages will last forever. I also used to think of myself as a tolerant person, so the idea of my marriage failing felt impossible. In my mind, this is something that others might have to go through, the ones with anger issues, those who couldn’t compromise. Not me.

I followed every piece of advice perfectly. The kind you might have seen relationship gurus meting out on social media nowadays, i.e., communicate respectfully, try to understand the other person’s perspective, etc. But over time, I realized communication isn’t a one-way effort; it takes two people to make it work. If only one partner keeps trying while the other sits back, believing they have nothing to change, it slowly chips away at your happiness.

With time, after observing other marriages around me, I understood that maybe I wasn’t as tolerant as I thought — at least not by Indian standards.

Different Levels of Tolerance in Relationships

My regrets in relationships are less about the ex and more about how I handled things. “Why did I let others influence my decisions? Why did I tolerate and compromise more than required?“

Of course, every relationship requires compromises. But each partner also has their own tolerance limits. For me, physical or emotional abuse is unacceptable. Yet, even I, someone who might appear intolerant of everything, tolerated it for a while before deciding I’d had enough. Many women, however, make peace with such situations in their marriages (and relationships in general) for their own reasons (dependency, fear, children, financial pressures, and more).

To cite an example of varying levels of tolerance: When I kept hearing cries of domestic violence in my building, I complained to the building association, even though people advised me not to. “It’s their family, their rules.” But I couldn’t just sit there doing nothing while hearing those cries. It was traumatizing. I took this step because there were times, even in my own relationship, that I wished my neighbors had intervened. Probably, ring the doorbell or knock on the door. It would have provided that much-needed relief.

After my complaint, it hasn’t happened since. But who’s to say the guy didn’t just find quieter ways to hurt his wife? I would’ve run away if such things had happened to me repeatedly, even if it meant begging on the streets for the rest of my life. But his wife might be thinking, “It’s okay. He’s doing it all out of love.” Who’s to know? You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.

Different levels of tolerance.

People also need to understand that no one files for divorce after just one instance of mistreatment. It happens when the same behavior repeats, even after requests, pleas, and calm conversations. Some choose to walk away, while others make peace with the idea that this is how their life will be. So the common advice of “give it one more chance” is mostly useless, and a bit insensitive, because the ones involved might have already given it multiple chances before deciding to let go.

Power of Faith During Tough Times

Even though I’m not a religious Hindu, having faith in some form has always helped me through tough times. It’s the one thing to hold onto when it feels like your world is falling apart. Even now, I rarely visit temples or follow rituals properly, but in moments of extreme heaviness, I still pray. Not to any specific god. I believe we’re all praying to the same divine force, just using different names and stories. What else could explain miracles happening in every community?

I remember, when I was married, our home had a lone idol of Goddess Kali, a deity I had rarely prayed to before. My parents usually had Lord Krishna at home. I still remember looking at the deity and crying. I asked if this was how it would be for the rest of my life – painful and broken on the inside, faking happiness on the outside (especially for social media).

I sometimes think I might have continued living that way if I hadn’t been pushed by some greater power to take a stand for myself. Probably it was Her. Must have been fed up with me always looking at Her, crying and whining. Even goddesses have their tolerance limits. Also, gods only help those who help themselves, right? Or as we Malayalees say, “Thaan paathi, dhaivam paathi” (you must put in your half of the effort, and God will take care of the rest). Maa Kali might have gone, “Bitch, why don’t you just leave the marriage, instead of troubling me all the bloody time?“

The day I walked out of my marriage was also the day I told my parents, “If you don’t help me, I’ll do it on my own.” Thankfully, they stood by me when I made that decision. I also had the confidence to stand on my own feet. I wasn’t employed then, but my freelance work brought in some income. I knew that if I left the marriage, I wouldn’t be a burden on anyone. That same freelance experience later helped me secure a job. It formed the bulk of my resume, and it convinced my employers that I could handle responsibilities independently, even while working from home, at a time when WFH wasn’t even common.

When I look back, I feel the universe was guiding me in small but meaningful ways toward a life that may be inadequate for someone else, but is absolutely correct for a homebody, introverted feminist like me.

Taking Marriage Advice from Society

But the point is, society will tell you not to take advice from a woman like me. Because I’m a divorcee. What would I know about marriage and relationships, right?

Yet it will encourage you to listen to the woman who keeps enduring it all, at the cost of her well-being, because that’s what a “good wife” does.

Society doesn’t really care about what a woman thinks or feels. It just wants you to stick to the rules.

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Photo by Monojit Dutta

Redefining What Success Means

I came across the following post online:

I think a lot about how we as a culture have turned “forever” into the only acceptable definition of success. Like… if you open a coffee shop and run it for a while and it makes you happy but then stuff gets too expensive and stressful and you want to do something else so you close it, it’s a “failed” business. If you write a book or two, then decide that you don’t actually want to keep doing that, you’re a “failed” writer. If you marry someone, and that marriage is good for a while, and then stops working and you get divorced, it’s a “failed” marriage.

The only acceptable “win condition” is “you keep doing that thing forever”. A friendship that lasts for a few years but then its time is done and you move on is considered less valuable or not a “real” friendship. A hobby that you do for a while and then are done with is a “phase” – or, alternatively, a “pity” that you don’t do that thing any more. A fandom is “dying” because people have had a lot of fun with it but are now moving on to other things.

I just think that something can be good, and also end, and that thing was still good. And it’s okay to be sad that it ended, too. But the idea that anything that ends is automatically less than this hypothetical eternal state of success… I don’t think that’s doing us any good at all.

It’s never “the person successfully got out of a bad marriage or bad friendship,” which, in my opinion, is one of the toughest things to do, at least in India. There are always a hundred people telling you to save the marriage or friendship, even if it sucks your soul. They go all out to make you feel guilty. When you do manage to get out of it eventually, it’s labelled a “failed” relationship.

Have we got our definition of success all wrong? The way it stands today, it often makes us cling to things that are no longer healthy, just for the sake of appearances. We try to make them work, even when we know they’re a lost cause, because society’s approval depends on it. We want people to look at us from afar and say, “Yes, they’re doing well in life.” This happened to me when I was trying to get out of my bad marriage. Society did not see my anguish; they simply wanted me to save the marriage.

Over time, I’ve grown less dependent on that kind of validation. Experience teaches you that to find true happiness, you need to first understand what happiness is to you, not others. I no longer feel the need to prove anything to anyone. There’s a calmness that comes with stepping out of the race. But it does not come without effort. In a world that constantly pushes you to do more, choosing to stay still and steady is often misunderstood. Living a life that balances financial independence (not luxury) with peace of mind rarely gets branded as “success.” However, luxury and fame without peace of mind are often labelled as the ultimate life.

Success takes on different meanings, even outside personal or professional life. Take politics, for instance. Many Indians see Modi’s stance against Trump’s tariffs and his refusal to bow down to demands (such as where India should purchase their oil from) as a mark of success. Others, however, view it as a diplomatic setback for India. And then there are those who believe it was actually a diplomatic failure for the U.S., considering India is among the fastest-growing economies in the world.

Of course, success looks different for everyone. We judge others by our own yardsticks. But clarity comes when you start asking yourself:

What do I actually want? Do I want wealth in heaps, or do I want balance?
What are the trade-offs, and am I okay with them?
How long am I willing to sacrifice? Am I truly passionate enough to give up other things I hold dear for this one pursuit?

When you have that honest conversation with yourself, defining success on your own terms rather than society’s, life feels lighter. And you stop depending on others for validation and how you should live your life. This does not apply to kids and young adults, though, who still need guidance on how to navigate life. A child cannot simply say, “Screw studies, it makes me upset,” and get away with it in the name of freedom of choice.

Effort is important, but so is knowing when to hold on and when to let go. True freedom comes only after achieving some level of financial independence. So that should be the first pursuit, regardless of gender.

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Photo by Gerd Altmann

Interracial Romance and the Indian Mindset

I recently watched a thoughtful discussion by Zarna Garg on interracial romance, featuring her own family. Based in the US, their candid conversation offers a refreshing glimpse into how Indian-American families are navigating such topics. It was heartening to see everyone, parents and kids, engage so openly. In many Indian households, these conversations either happen too late or not at all, often wrapped in hesitation or silence. But here was a family talking honestly about dating, identity, and interracial relationships. A big shoutout to them for their openness and clarity. It’s these dialogues that make a real difference.

Watch the video below:

Thoughts

I’ve spent most of my life abroad before choosing to return to India. Yet even while living overseas, I always knew my relationships would be with Indian men. Perhaps it’s because I studied in an Indian school and mostly socialized within the Indian community, even outside the country. I look Indian, dress Indian, and speak with an Indian accent. So it was natural to feel more comfortable with Indian men.

However, in today’s globalized world, with increasing interracial mingling, millennials like me must come to terms with the fact that more non-Indians are likely to become part of our families. Someone recently remarked how the world is blending in such a way that you can no longer easily tell someone’s ethnicity. Even appearances are getting “globalized.” It was an eye-opener. I’ve come to realize this holds especially true in the Indian context. Today’s new-generation kids often no longer look or sound traditionally Indian, especially the kids in Indian metros. Their accents, fashion, and even body language reflect a more global identity.

A few months ago, a relative married a Spanish man, the first white partner in our family. Surprisingly, everyone, including the older generation, was welcoming. No drama. No resistance. That in itself feels like progress. Our extended family no longer fusses over caste or religion in love marriages. Marrying someone from a “lower caste” has become normal (though I personally reject terms like “lower” and “upper” caste, which are inherently divisive). Only a few super-senior relatives seem to hold on to rigid views, but even that seems to be fading.

I wonder if this shift is due to the older generation’s growing access to YouTube and social media. Many now watch global discussions on love, identity, and acceptance. One moment really stood out: a senior aunt watched Kaathal, a Malayalam film about same-sex love, and casually remarked, “Being gay or lesbian is fine. It’s not a disease.” That kind of acceptance would’ve been unthinkable even a decade ago. But it’s happening now, and that matters.

More recently, one of my nieces fell in love with a white guy. It’s a bit more delicate because it hits closer to home. While I’m happy she found someone, I can’t help but feel a bit anxious. Our cultures are worlds apart, and it’s not just the couple that has to adjust, but the families too. At this age, do I or her parents have the patience? I’m unsure. On second thought, it doesn’t concern me or her family, as the relationship is hers to navigate. Still, as Zarna Garg wisely said in her family discussion, any relationship can thrive if the core values align: education, family, career, loyalty, and health. Everything else is secondary and can be worked around.

One comment from Zarna’s husband lingered with me. He mentioned that their eldest daughter has only dated white men, and he took it personally. He had read somewhere that girls whose fathers aren’t ideal husbands are more likely to do this. That struck a chord. My niece also has a pattern of dating white men, and to be honest, her father isn’t exactly the perfect partner either. Could there be a subconscious link? I wouldn’t dare bring it up now, especially since she lives abroad, but maybe someday in person.

There’s so much our generation is still figuring out. As millennials in our 40s, we stand between tradition and transition. We want to be open-minded and inclusive, but also grounded. At times, it worries us to see the younger generation drifting away from tradition. There’s a quiet fear: will our culture someday fade into oblivion? But these are changing times, and change demands a degree of acceptance. We may not always agree, but we must learn to adapt. I also see a growing trend among young parents today: trying too hard to be politically correct, often avoiding difficult conversations just to stay in their children’s good books. This might be a measure to ensure they don’t repeat their parents’ mistakes of being too restrictive. But experience teaches us that hard truths, spoken with love, are just as necessary today as it was yesterday.

Some of the advice I dismissed in my 20s now makes perfect sense. You only begin to understand your parents once you reach their age. That’s how life unfolds. You gain clarity with time. Until then, all we can do is trust, adapt, and hope it all works out in the end.

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Photo by Bhavitya Indora

Godless Yet Hindu: How Hinduism Welcomes Every Kind of Belief

For a major part of my life, I considered Hinduism just a religion. But as you grow older, you enter a stage when you wish to know more. That’s when I realized Hinduism is more than a religion. It’s a broad philosophical framework that accepts a wide range of beliefs, including atheism.

Did you know Hindus can believe in multiple gods or a single god if they wish, but they are also free not to believe in any god if they wish not to? Non-believers are still considered Hindu. They are not ostracized or excluded from the community. This openness is reflected in ancient Hindu schools of thought, such as the Carvaka and Samkhya schools. These schools, although lesser known, even among Hindus, are testaments to Hindu philosophy’s pluralistic nature.

Carvaka: The Atheist School of Hinduism

Carvaka is an ancient Indian philosophy that openly rejects belief in God, the soul, karma, reincarnation, and life after death.

The core idea of Carvaka is that only tangible things, such as those we can see, touch, or directly experience, are real. The rest is fluff. Its thinkers believe that Gods and heavens are man-made concepts designed to control people.

The main focus of the Carvaka school is to live a happy life in the present, without tying your actions to living a good afterlife, because there’s none. The Carvaka philosophy endorses materialism, which is good news for those who are all about living the good life.

In short, Carvaka says, “Enjoy your life here and now, because that’s all there is.”

Samkhya: A Spiritual but God-Free Philosophy

Samkhya is a Hindu school of philosophy that is spiritual but does not rely on the concept of a creator god. Its core idea is that the universe consists of two things: Purusha (pure consciousness) and Prakriti (nature). The goal is to free yourself from suffering by understanding that your true self is not your body or mind, but pure awareness.

Samkhya does not completely deny the existence of God, but rather states that belief in God is not necessary for achieving spiritual liberation. You must have seen this philosophy being practiced through methods such as Yoga.

Personal Beliefs & Their Acceptance in Hinduism

I’m not religious. However, I’m not an atheist either. I’m someone who ardently believes we are all praying to the same universal energy, just under different names, with different rules.

If there’s only one true religion, how does one explain miracles occurring in every faith?

I have had my prayers answered when I was a traditional Hindu believer, praying to Goddess Durga. My prayers were also answered when I prayed to the universe. This has shaped my impression that God is universal, one divine energy known by many names. Each path may look different, but they all lead to the same source. The only thing that matters when you pray is the depth of your emotions.

Hinduism accommodates thoughts like mine. I’m not judged or ostracized for holding such views. The religion does not demand that I conform to rigid principles. Instead, it allows space to question and for my beliefs to evolve. This openness and freedom are what make Hinduism deeply meaningful to me. I can still call myself a Hindu, even without being traditionally religious.

This openness in Hinduism extends beyond individual beliefs to matters like gender and sexuality. Ancient texts and temple sculptures across India depict a spectrum of gender identities, showing that Hinduism has historically acknowledged and embraced LGBTQ individuals. Few traditional religions offer this level of acceptance. That is what makes Hinduism not just a religion, but an inclusive way of life.

A Message to Hindu Youth: Your Religion Is More Open Than You Think

Despite its pluralistic, “modern” nature, many Hindu youth today feel that Hinduism isn’t “cool” enough. Perhaps because its rich philosophy is rarely taught during childhood. Outside India, Hinduism isn’t widely practiced or represented on global platforms, and the Western media often reduces it to stereotypes. There is also a lot of misinformation spread about Hinduism by people who know very little about the religion.

What many don’t realize is that Hinduism is one of the most liberal and inclusive systems of thought in the world. It is secular in spirit, embracing all forms of belief, including atheism. Hindus are free to question religious leaders and traditions without fear of punishment, reflecting the openness and reformative spirit that lies at the core of their faith. This is why you see many Hindus questioning even our religious leaders.

Conclusion

While some Hindu hardliners insist on rigid practices, such views do not represent the true essence of Hinduism. There is no single rulebook. Instead, there are diverse schools of thought that uphold intellectual freedom and individual choice. That is something to be proud of. I hope Hindus remember this when they encounter misrepresentation, hate, and misinformation about our religion and culture online or offline. Rather than accepting distorted narratives, we should take pride in the fact that Hinduism offers space for everyone: believers, skeptics, and reformers alike.

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Photo by Sujit Hirapara

An Ode to Calming My Monkey Mind Through Meditation

There’s so much bad news everywhere. Wars, riots, terror attacks, persecution, and discrimination. I don’t know about you, but I’ve started to feel helpless, knowing I hold no power to fix these problems. As individuals, there’s only so much we can do. What is in our control is how we express our views, calmly and with clarity. But even that becomes difficult when those around us try to silence any perspective that doesn’t match their own. They get aggressive. We get perplexed. It becomes a vicious cycle. One that’s hard to escape. It drains our time, disturbs our emotional balance, and pushes away those who genuinely want to understand us.

In the midst of all this, I recently attended an online yoga session on International Yoga Day. We meditated together as a group, and it turned out to be one of the most peaceful and calming experiences I’ve had in a while. The meditation lasted only 7 minutes, but it had a noticeable, immediate impact. I felt centred. It helped me go about the rest of my day with a calm focus, even while handling everyday chores or reading the news. This is new for me. For the past few years, my mind has been troubled by witnessing the coldness with which society operates. There was a lingering sense of doom that had become hard to manage. So when meditation helped soften that heaviness, even slightly, it came as a welcome relief. I allowed myself to sit with that emotion and savour it.

The guide assured us that the control over our minds would improve even further with consistent practice. He said that even just 7 minutes of daily meditation can make a noticeable difference over time. I’m still new to the practice, so it’s too early for me to say how lasting the effects are. But one thing I can say for sure: you feel noticeably better after just the first session.

What made those few minutes so calming was the simple act of focusing only on the breath and the space between the eyebrows. In that short span, there were no screens, no distractions. Just stillness. It felt like a small step toward making peace with myself. This is what I experienced in my first few days of meditation. I’m not sure yet if I can commit to doing it every single day, but it’s something I genuinely want to try.

I’m not the body, I’m not the mind

As we meditated, this chant of “I’m not the body, I’m not the mind” by Sadhguru played in the background, accompanied by soothing flute music. It felt like an invitation to disconnect from the body and mind, to simply let yourself be. You don’t have to react to everything. You can observe your experiences as an outsider, from a third-person perspective. Feel your emotions, acknowledge them, but don’t let them consume you beyond control so that you lose sight of logic.

If you’re interested in trying the same meditation, you can do it at home by downloading the “Miracle of Mind by Sadhguru” app on your phone. The session includes the same calming chant and ends with a short 1-minute video from Sadhguru, offering simple insights on daily practice.

Now, I understand some may have reservations about Sadhguru due to political or personal views, or unverified claims. But I’d encourage you to look past that and focus instead on what this practice can offer you personally.

I’ve tried other meditation apps too, but they often felt too Western in their approach. This one, however, feels grounded in Indian sensibilities, with gentle flute music and guided instructions that actually help you stay focused. In a culture where complete silence isn’t always easy to adapt to, this format works well. It’s thoughtfully designed for an Indian audience, making meditation more accessible and less intimidating.

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Photo by Yogendra Singh

Pakistan, Let Kashmir Live in Peace!

As I write this, an Indian news channel is broadcasting peaceful protests by Kashmiris condemning the recent Pakistani terrorist attack on tourists in Pahalgam. One protester says, “Pakistan doesn’t want us to live in peace. They’re destroying our livelihood by constantly sending terror into our land.”

After years, Kashmir was finally seeing progress. Businesses were recovering, and for the first time in ages, children completed a full academic year, attending school instead of being pulled into stone pelting and street violence funded by Pakistan’s terrorist groups.

So, who exactly are these Pakistani terrorists fighting for? Themselves? Their religion? What does Pakistan gain by funding terrorism or sheltering terrorists on its soil, other than being rebranded year after year globally as a “terrorist state”?

Where are the voices of Pakistani celebrities, many of whom have large Indian fan bases, when it comes to condemning this violence?

A quick scroll through Pakistani Reddit forums shows users justifying the attack as “resistance.” When will ordinary Pakistanis tell their government and military to stop sponsoring terrorism in Indian Kashmir?

When will they let Kashmir breathe in peace?

So many grievances. And yet, silence ensues.

When Indians express anger toward Pakistan, many Pakistanis act surprised. They are unable to understand why Indians harbour so much hatred for Pakistan (or they may be feigning ignorance). The answer lies in the reactions, the deafening silence that follows whenever India gets attacked. It’s easy to speak of peace and brotherhood when you’re not the one burying your loved ones. How many Indians, soldiers and civilians, Hindus and Muslims alike, have lost their lives to Pakistan-sponsored terrorism? And yet, we’re expected to keep our borders open, welcome Pakistani artists, and pretend everything is normal. Most of these artists haven’t even spoken a word against the radicals who spill Indian blood. They want our money and admiration, while their country fuels terror against us.

Every time Kashmiris speak out against Pakistan or wave the Indian flag, Islamabad spins the same tired excuse: “They’re being forced by the Hindutva government.” Really? Was the Kashmiri Muslim man who died trying to save Hindu tourists in Pahalgam doing it under pressure from the Indian government? Make it make sense.

Pakistan is to India what Hamas is to Israel. Friendship is a fantasy. We may share history, but there’s no future unless Pakistan first cleans up the terrorism it breeds. Until then, no dialogue, no gesture, no cultural exchange can bridge this gap. The course correction has to begin on Pakistan’s side. Let Kashmir live in peace.

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Photo by Imad Clicks