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

From India-Pakistan to Gaza: Exploring the Duality of War

Personal observation: In almost every war, there’s always someone who doesn’t want it to end.

In the India–Pakistan war, many in India didn’t want the fighting to stop because they felt Pakistan hadn’t learned its lesson yet. Some even wanted the government to reclaim PoK (Pakistan-occupied Kashmir) during this time (which I strongly oppose).

When Israel attacked Iran’s nuclear sites, many anti-regime Iranians wanted the war to continue because they hoped the regime would fall.

The Israel–Gaza conflict is even more unusual. Many who kept calling for a ceasefire suddenly went quiet or were openly against it when finally announced. Maybe they had expected Israel to be driven out and a new Palestinian state to rise “from the river to the sea.” But that idea is unrealistic and only calls for more violence. Just like India will never give up Kashmir, Israel will never give up its land. Both countries get a lot of criticism for putting their own interests first. But, over the years, Jews and Indians have learned an important lesson: if they want their interests protected, they can’t rely on anyone else. When Indians get murdered in America, there’s next to no backlash. It’s the same case with Jews. History is also proof that when Hindus face persecution or genocide (Kashmiri Pandits, Sandeshkhali, Bangladeshi, and Pakistani Hindus), the world stays silent. In a world shaped by selective activism, these two communities have gradually learned to shed their passivity and docile nature, standing up for themselves without guilt. Indians, in my view, are still learning. Our tendency to stay silent runs deep. But since 2014, that’s starting to change, much to the annoyance of some. Apparently, a “good” Indian is still largely expected to be a silent one in the face of persecution and bigotry.

Anyway, the point is that in any war, there’s always duality. Those who push for the conflict to continue aren’t always on the “far-right.” Sometimes, they are far-left or far-right figures from other communities, disguised as leftist liberals. Take, for example, the India-Pakistan war. Many leftists in India wanted it to end and for peace to prevail. Yet recently, some of those same voices wanted Hamas to reject the peace deal, even at the cost of many lives.

I’ve often felt that the far-left and far-right are just two sides of the same coin. The recent wars and reactions to them over the years only validate this claim.

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Photo by Pixabay

An Ode to This American Woman

Zarna Garga's This American Woman Book Cover

As someone living in India, I enjoy hearing the stories of the Indian-American diaspora. In many ways, we are alike, yet also very different. While India itself holds a wide diversity of thoughts, the experiences of Indian-origin people abroad offer something unique – they make you see your own country from a fresh perspective. Zarna Garg’s This American Woman was one such story that offered me a deep dive into that view.

I have to admit, at first, I was put off by Zarna’s description of India in the few Instagram reels I came across. My patriotism made me defensive. But over time, she grew on me, and I realized that everyone sees a country through their own lens. As an ex-NRI myself, my perspective on India is very different from Zarna’s and her family’s. They see the USA as the best, while I believe India is the best – and that’s okay. Different views deserve respect. It was this curiosity about Zarna’s unique journey that ultimately led me to buy her book.

I loved this book. It made me both laugh and cry. Zarna’s life reads like a movie. Born in Mumbai, she ran away to the US as a teenager after her father tried to force her into an arranged marriage following her mother’s death. From there, she stayed with her sister and slowly built her life in America. Her journey has been tough, leaving her with mental blocks about returning to India. Yet she tells it all with such lightness, as if life itself is a comedy not meant to be taken too seriously.

Pain is my destiny and my company and my affinity. Embracing pain and not wasting time wondering “Why me?” will put you on the fast track to success.

What truly brought me to tears was the chapter her daughter dedicated to her. Even now, writing about it makes my eyes well up (though, to be fair, it might also be that time of the month – we women never really know what’s behind the tears). It’s a chapter worth reading. Everyone faces moments of self-doubt, especially women who’ve had to set aside their careers for family. But when that same family becomes your greatest support system, it’s a blessing. Zarna has that blessing in Zoya.

“For many parents, their children’s careers are their greatest accomplishment, but for me my mom’s is mine” – Zoya

The final part with Zarna’s brother was truly heart-warming. The speech she delivers on stage is pure heart.

I would strongly recommend reading This American Woman. It’s inspirational, funny, and heartwarming, capturing life in its own uniquely Indian-American way.

Netflix Movie Review: Saiyaara

Saiyaara poster with Aneet Padda and Ahaan Panday

I’ll start by saying I’m in my 40s, so I’m not exactly the target audience for this film. Still, I enjoyed seeing fresh faces on screen. Actors who look natural, expressive, and free from the usual heavy Botox work.

What’s It About?

Saiyaara opens with the female lead at the registrar’s office, ready to formalize her marriage. She’s a dreamer and a poet, someone who finds inspiration in life’s fleeting moments. Even in the office, she pulls out her diary to capture the beauty of what she believes is the start of a new chapter. But life takes an unexpected turn.

She soon crosses paths with the male lead, an angst-ridden singer determined to make it big. The film traces their love story and the way they navigate the highs and lows of their relationship.

Thoughts

The story felt like a mix of Aashiqui 2 and Rockstar. As I’m not drawn to melancholy, tragic romances, it didn’t resonate with me as much as I’d hoped. That said, it was refreshing to see young, expressive talent on screen.

Director Mohit Suri specifically sought an actress without cosmetic enhancements (a “botox-free beauty”), and I think that was a brilliant choice. As an audience member, I’ve found lip jobs and other obvious procedures very distracting, so the natural look was a welcome change.

The lead actress (Aneet Padda) is adorable, and the actor (Ahaan Panday) is quite charming, too. Their chemistry was lovely. Personally, I would have loved to watch this pair in a light-hearted romcom instead. Hopefully soon. We need more youthful, happy, meet-cute romantic stories in Bollywood.

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