I did not leave my marriage in a hysteria or a whim. I left it because it was perfect.

I had lived a sheltered life. I had lived a life without risks and mistakes. I had lived a flawless life – the one with no false moves. Always timidly looking at life and never through the wrong end of the telescope.

And to think that I was living life – I think I had sufficiently ridiculed myself.

It was the certitude of that life that bored me. The day-to-day humdrum did. The routine of 9-to-5 wore me out.  The mundane lulled me into stupor. I became stoic like a falling corpse. I lost curiosity. I fumbled. I became restless…

Finally – the vanity of that faultless life left me maimed:

“…perhaps like a dead-skull tattoo on your skin and a vulture that soars above the arid desert where the dead lie half-buried in the sand – those agitated and unsung heroes from a past everyone wanted to forget.”

(Excerpt from The Wife Who Left a Perfect Marriage)

But one fortunate day, the crushing jolt of  a thunder-bolt woke me up …and it saved me from the slow but certain death:  

 “That was when she knew that everything had gone wrong with their lives. Only she could not tell what went wrong…they pierced the crust of her fallow heart and unfurled in her the most furious rage of a woman; long suppressed inside her.

A large impatient caged bird had sprung from sleep. Her immense comatose wings grew and as they stretched, they crowded the cage and obscured the kitchen’s light.

She shut her eyes and closed her ears as the big bird thrashed inside her, and she screamed.”

(Excerpt from The Wife Who Left a Perfect Marriage)

Radhika Mia