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Bruised Sisters

 I saw Provoked only recently - by now almost 20 years after it was released. Aishwarya Rai carries the movie almost on her with Naveen Andrew doing his part (somewhat) as the menacing, abusive husband. Around the time that movie was made, I used to know a woman, V who I had met through a support group for single mothers from India trying to raise their kids alone in America. At first she did not want to share her real name or location with me and mostly talked about her struggles trying to get custody of her daughter while living in a women's shelter. At some point she trusted me enough to exchange phone numbers and sometimes she would call. 

The conversations were long and rambled through past and present in ways that it often left me confused. There were days when she recounted particularly traumatic events from the past that had lead to hospitalization and she still had lingering health issues from her husband's physical abuse. She was trying to rationalize her decision to leave her daughter with this man - he is a very good father, but a bad husband. I found it hard to fathom but realized that she was in no position to financially support her daughter - V had never worked in America. There were days when the conversations were lucid, when she asked me about what was going on in my life and offered me good advice. 

I enjoyed those conversations a lot more because it gave me a fleeting glimpse into the person V had once mean before the horrific abuse had destroyed her body and mind. We stayed in touch off and on for about three years. Last I spoke to her, V had managed to get her daughter away from the father - she had decided to send the child to India to live with her family. She remained disoriented about her own life, fighting on many fronts to earn her freedom give her daughter a better life, not be beholden to her relatives back home. The immigration woes were never ending given her separated pending divorce status. Watching Provoked brought back memories of those long ago phone conversations with V. 

Even as a woman with similarities in culture and background, I could not fully comprehend the depths of her suffering, how mortally afraid she was of the man she was married to, and how her mind raced infinitely hoping to find peace and quiet. I hope V and her daughter have ended up having a good life.  

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