{"id":72,"date":"2008-12-01T22:50:11","date_gmt":"2008-12-01T22:50:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/?p=72"},"modified":"2010-07-13T01:49:21","modified_gmt":"2010-07-13T01:49:21","slug":"helping-hand","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/?p=72","title":{"rendered":"Helping Hand"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"P323\"<\/h4>\n

\u00a0A survivor\u2019s story\u00a0 <\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0<\/h4>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>I was in America less than three years and was filling up the pages in my diary with my secret tortured life. At the age thirty-five, I left my own business in India and came here to join this new family with many dreams. But in this house I was treated as a slave. I was expected to serve my husband, mother-in-law and teenager stepson with the<\/h4>\n

preset rules of when, where, how and which way.\u00a0 <\/span>I kept on doing all that happily, from 5am to 10pm, with the longing that my husband shows some care for me. I was called stupid because my English was not good and I was humble. I was not allowed to know any thing about household finances or his income. I was giving him all my earnings and in return I was given a small allowance.\u00a0 <\/span>The verbal abuse was constant from husband and mother-in-law. My diary was soaked with my lonely tears.<\/h4>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>All the people I knew were my husband\u2019s friends and relatives. Whom can I tell and who will believe me?\u00a0 <\/span>I cannot write to my family in India because, my in-laws were extremely sensitive about their reputation in\u00a0society. My husband moved out of our bedroom and told lies to his mother and to the casual, so called, friends. My Ex and his mother started telling me to \u201cpack your bag and get lost\u201d.\u00a0 <\/span>They wanted me to leave penniless and humiliated so they can look good in the society. He threatened me with legal consequences.<\/h4>\n

\u00a0<\/h4>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Finally, I mustered up my courage and talked to one of his friends, who is a Domestic Violence\u00a0Volunteer. First, I told her very little and waited for her reaction. After a few days I felt that I could trust her. Once I had her support, my self-confidence and strength slowly came back. I had to relearn to be strong. My advocate was my lifesaver. I no longer felt helpless.\u00a0The Organization\u00a0helped me with the lawyer\u2019s fees and my advocate spent countless hours with me and accompanied me to get through the legal and emotional web. I moved out of that house with good settlement, with good friends and with dignity. I cannot imagine where I would have been without\u00a0their help. My mentor expressed my feelings in her poem.\u00a0 <\/span><\/h4>\n

A Survivor<\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span><\/h4>\n

\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014-\u00a0<\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0\u00a0Working with the victims of domestic violance,poems like this has been written. <\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>Saryu Parikh<\/span><\/h4>\n

<\/a>\u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Painting By: Dilip Parikh\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Helping Hand<\/em><\/span><\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0<\/h4>\n

sis, I accepted strangers as my own<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

my heart was full of hopes and dreams<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

I came trusting the thread of love<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

I enjoyed the bliss of marriage<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/span>He was center of my universe<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

he was staying in my inner most trust<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

he was the purpose of my breath<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

now miserable cry in my sigh<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

that tender string broke in the midst<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

couldn\u2019t mend it with\u00a0 all\u00a0 the\u00a0 efforts<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

he cut it with\u00a0a jerk, left me sad and helpless<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

now all alone, who\u2019s support will I have!<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

let the tears flow today due to the sudden burn<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

but my soul lamp is shining with the inner strength<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0promise,\u00a0I will find my lost self respect<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

with the help of your\u00a0sweet smile,\u00a0o\u2019sis<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

with the help of your\u00a0sweet smile\u00a0
\n————–<\/p>\n

\u00a0When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.
\n….And what is to work with love? It is to weave the cloth threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth………\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 __Khalil Gibran, The Prophet.<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0A survivor\u2019s story\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I was in America less than three years and was filling up the pages in my diary with my secret tortured life. At the age thirty-five, I left my own business in India and came here to join this new family with many dreams. But in this house I was […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":11,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[71],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-72","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-71"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/72","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/11"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=72"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/72\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=72"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=72"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/saryuparikh.gujaratisahityasarita.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=72"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}