>”I seem to see my self from his eyes while i have always possessed theintelligence and politics to know or perhaps i should say interpretwho i am as a woman. But this knowledge i cannot assimilate in me, theexperience is of being in ruin, ………… “ mail from a dear friend to me, in response to an anguished mail sent to her. Says another vivacious, lively, intelligent, perceptive woman, to me, on her first meeting with me as a therapist: ” I am so sorry that I have cried…. I mean this is a first meeting with you and all that”. “Why the shame?” I ask her. “shouldn’t I be calm and composed and not really show my emotions at all? I mean isn’t this what the world wants from me, from you, from all of us?” she responds, albeit a bit surprised that i am even asking her this question. “well you are here to meet a therapist, and you are
>Amazing women in my life (part 3) – the story of J
>J was born into a trading community in undivided Bengal. She grew up with a unstable mother, a nervous father and five or six siblings. As was the custom in her community, she was married off quite early to a man twelve years older to her in the same community. Barely did she attain puberty, she was pregnant with a child and from this point on, her life took an altogether different turn. Her mother and her husband both died suddenly in an attack of small pox, which those days was endemic; J flabbergasted by this turn of events, lost her mind and was locked up in a room probably under advice from the local medico. She gave birth to her daughter but could not look after the daughter due to her illness and her mother in law looked after the infant. It is not known to me for how long J lived in that hazy, misty world of hers, for
read more >Amazing women in my life (part 3) – the story of J
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