Skip to main content

Many Odds

Watching Mrs. Chatterjee vs Norway was heartbreaking. But the movie tells only half her story. She says the rest in her own words: 

“The story of the movie ends with me winning my children’s custody. People leave theatre halls thinking my triumph makes me live a comfortable life after that. Far from it. My struggle over the last decade has been at times tougher than the times I spent in Norway. Amid all that I achieved, I took care of my ailing parents and my children, especially my son who has a mental condition and would have to remain on meds all his life. But I was determined to win that battle and this is where I have now reached, I think I have been a good mother to my children even though I have stayed away from them for the last two years,”

The fight this mother put up for her children is absolutely heroic. Given the odds against her, it is nothing short of a miracle that she prevailed. I recall reading about this in the news a few years ago and but the details were scarce. Reading the Telegraph article and also while watching Rani Mukherjee play Mrs. Chatterjee, I could not help thinking about the wasted potential. This woman is an absolute powerhouse - she has the courage to take on the world. 

Such a shame that all the potential was wasted fighting to keep a family in a terrible marriage to a man who was unfit both as a father and a husband - the root cause of many of her troubles in Norway. Imagine, she was given the chances to thrive and be her own person - the could have changed the world against all odds just like she saved her children.

No words for the connivance and racism of the Norwegian authorities - dumbfounding stuff.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques