\u2014\u201cOh, don\u2019t start. She just gave birth, she\u2019s not seriously ill. In the old days women ate plain food and survived.\u201d
\n\u2014\u201cYou\u2019re giving her spoiled food.\u201d
\n\u2014\u201cDon\u2019t exaggerate.\u201d
\nShe stepped closer, looked at the mess, and clicked her tongue.
\n\u2014\u201cThat\u2019s still fine. Your wife is too delicate.\u201d
\nI felt my blood rise.
\n\u2014\u201cI give you money to feed her.\u201d
\n\u2014\u201cAnd I feed the household.\u201d
\n\u2014\u201cWhich household? Mine or Arjun\u2019s?\u201d
\nMy mother paused for a second.
\nOnly one.
\nBut it was enough.
\n\u2014\u201cMeera is pregnant,\u201d she said, lifting her chin. \u201cShe actually needs care. And Arjun is struggling. You earn better. Don\u2019t be selfish.\u201d
\nThe word froze me.
\nSelfish.
\nMe.
\nThe one who worked overtime so my wife could eat properly.
\nThe one who trusted her.<\/p>\n
The one who was foolish enough to repeat my mother\u2019s judgments about Ananya.
\n\u2014\u201cYou used my wife\u2019s money to feed Arjun and Meera?\u201d
\n\u2014\u201cHe is your brother.\u201d
\n\u2014\u201cAnd what is Ananya to you?\u201d
\nMy mother looked at my wife.
\nWith disgust.
\n\u2014\u201cShe came into this house. She should learn to sacrifice.\u201d
\nAnanya lowered her head.
\nThat image broke something final inside me.
\nMy wife on the floor, thin, freshly postpartum, surrounded by rotten scraps, bowing her head to the woman destroying her.
\nI placed Aarav in Ananya\u2019s arms and walked out of the kitchen.
\nMy mother shouted behind me:
\n\u2014\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d
\nI didn\u2019t answer.
\nI went into the room and took the largest suitcase.
\nI packed Ananya\u2019s clothes. Diapers. Blankets. Documents. The baby\u2019s records. Formula. Vitamins. Everything I could find.
\nMy mother appeared at the door.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cRohan, don\u2019t be ridiculous.\u201d<\/p>\n
I kept packing.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cI\u2019m talking to you!\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed the suitcase.<\/p>\n
Then I looked at her.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cWe\u2019re leaving.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her face twisted.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cFor that woman?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cFor my wife. For my son. And for myself\u2014because I refuse to be the son who blindly defends his mother while she destroys his family.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother pressed a hand to her chest.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cI raised you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cAnd I loved you for it. But raising me doesn\u2019t give you the right to starve my family.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cThis is ridiculous. No one is dying.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at Aarav.<\/p>\n
Then at Ananya.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cThat\u2019s the worst part. You waited until they would.\u201d<\/p>\n
She raised her hand\u2014maybe to slap me, maybe to point at me. I don\u2019t know.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t give her the chance.<\/p>\n
I picked up the suitcase, helped Ananya stand, and walked out of the room.<\/p>\n
My mother kept shouting.<\/p>\n
That I was ungrateful.<\/p>\n
That Ananya had poisoned my mind.<\/p>\n
That a son should never abandon his mother.<\/p>\n
That I would regret this one day.<\/p>\n
At the door, I stopped.<\/p>\n
I turned back one last time.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cMa, if you ever want to see your grandson again, learn to see his mother as a human being first.\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t wait for a response.<\/p>\n
I opened the door.<\/p>\n
And I took my family out of that house.<\/p>\n
We went straight to the hospital.<\/p>\n
Not to a friend\u2019s house. Not to a hotel. Not to my wife\u2019s parents\u2019 home.<\/p>\n
To the hospital.<\/p>\n
Because while I was driving, with Ananya in the back seat holding Aarav, I understood for the first time the severity of what I had allowed to happen. My wife wasn\u2019t just sad. She was malnourished. Weak. In pain. Dizzy. With a postpartum wound that was barely healing and a body that everyone kept demanding milk from while denying her food.<\/p>\n
In the emergency ward, the doctor examined her and her expression hardened.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cWhat has she been eating?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ananya lowered her gaze.<\/p>\n
I answered for her, the shame stuck in my throat.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cLeftovers. Old food. Very little protein. Almost nothing fresh.\u201d<\/p>\n
The doctor looked at me.<\/p>\n
Not with anger.<\/p>\n
With a professional disappointment that somehow hurt more.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cA postpartum woman needs nourishment, rest, and support. Not pressure and starvation.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
I had no defense.<\/p>\n
Aarav was examined too. He was underweight, mildly dehydrated, and hungry. They gave him formula right there. I watched him drink desperately, his tiny hands clenched, his face slowly relaxing.<\/p>\n
Ananya watched him crying.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cI\u2019m sorry, my love,\u201d she whispered. \u201cI\u2019m sorry I couldn\u2019t\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
I knelt beside her.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cNo. Don\u2019t ever say that again.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cBut I\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cYou did everything you could with what little you were given.\u201d<\/p>\n
And for the first time, I said it for myself too.<\/p>\n
Because I didn\u2019t do everything I could.<\/p>\n
I did what was easiest: believe my mother and blame my wife.<\/p>\n
That night we stayed under observation. I sat in a chair beside Ananya\u2019s bed, with Aarav sleeping in a small hospital crib. She could barely keep her eyes open.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cRohan,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cYour mother will be very angry.\u201d<\/p>\n
That sentence broke something in me again.<\/p>\n
Even in the hospital, after everything, she was still afraid of my mother\u2019s anger.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cLet her be angry,\u201d I said. \u201cShe doesn\u2019t control us anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ananya closed her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cI didn\u2019t want you to fight with her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cI didn\u2019t fight for you. I should have done it long before.\u201d<\/p>\n
She opened her eyes, confused.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cI\u2019m ashamed,\u201d I admitted. \u201cNot of you. Of myself. I watched you fade and blamed you. I heard my son cry and shouted at you. I gave my mother money and thought that meant care. But care isn\u2019t transferring money and walking away.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ananya cried silently.<\/p>\n
I took her hand.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cForgive me. You don\u2019t have to do it today. Or tomorrow. But I will prove to you I can be your husband, not another burden.\u201d<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t respond.<\/p>\n
But she didn\u2019t let go of my hand.<\/p>\n
The next day I rented a small apartment near my workplace. It wasn\u2019t beautiful. White walls, two rooms, a tiny kitchen, and a window facing a noisy road.<\/p>\n
But it was safe.<\/p>\n
No one would open the door to humiliate Ananya.<\/p>\n
No one would decide what she ate.<\/p>\n
No one would touch the money meant for my wife and son.<\/p>\n
I bought groceries like I was trying to undo every mistake at once: chicken, meat, fish, oats, fruits, vegetables, milk, bread, supplements, formula, diapers, vitamins.<\/p>\n
I also hired a postpartum nurse for a few days, even though I had to sell my watch and take an advance from work.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n
The first meal I cooked was chicken soup with vegetables.<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t perfect.<\/p>\n
The rice was overcooked.<\/p>\n
The carrots too soft.<\/p>\n
But when I placed the bowl in front of Ananya, she looked at it like it was something impossible.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cIt\u2019s too much,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cNo,\u201d I replied. \u201cIt\u2019s the bare minimum.\u201d<\/p>\n
She ate slowly, cautiously at first, as if someone might come and take the plate away.<\/p>\n
That image stayed with me.<\/p>\n
I promised myself she would never eat in fear again while I was there.<\/p>\n
The following days were difficult.<\/p>\n
Her milk didn\u2019t return immediately. Maybe it never would fully return the way it should have. The doctor explained that stress, hunger, and exhaustion can severely affect lactation. I bought formula without arguing, without hearing my mother\u2019s voice calling it unnecessary.<\/p>\n
Aarav started sleeping better.<\/p>\n
Ananya started regaining color.<\/p>\n
Very slowly.<\/p>\n
One day she finished a full bowl of oats with fruit and looked surprised at herself.<\/p>\n
Another day she laughed when Aarav made a strange noise while feeding.<\/p>\n
That laugh\u2014small, fragile\u2014was the first sign she was still there.<\/p>\n
My mother kept calling nonstop.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n
Then messages came.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour wife is separating you from your family.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was only trying to save money.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMeera also needed help.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are a bad son.\u201d\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026..<\/p>\n
\u2014\u201cOh, don\u2019t start. She just gave birth, she\u2019s not seriously ill. In the old days women ate plain food and survived.\u201d \u2014\u201cYou\u2019re giving her spoiled food.\u201d \u2014\u201cDon\u2019t exaggerate.\u201d She stepped … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1971,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1969","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1969","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1969"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1969\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1973,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1969\/revisions\/1973"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1971"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1969"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1969"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1969"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}