Rainbow After Storm: Why Is Purnima Gangam Leaving A Heirloom For Son

Barely out of high school, Purnima is married to a mature gentleman from Scotland and is sent away with lots of gifts and blessings to live a beautiful life in lovely Edinburgh. Only to realize that there was hardly any space for her in the man’s life, and heart. She spent years to learn, work hard and mould herself, to find courage to endure her unimaginable circumstances and slowly build a life worth living.

This story reveals the heartbreaking details of her journey from being a voiceless sweet young girl to becoming a self-dependent woman in the face of hardships.

Here's an excerpt from Purnima Gangam's Rainbow After Storm

Abuse comes in many packages of different sizes; at times you don’t even realize it is abuse. It traps you into a vicious cycle of low self-esteem, paralyzing fear, mental block and the world against you. For me, the paralysis took 30 years to get out from and build my confidence. 

Wrong or right, good or bad behaviour, I never could hold ill feelings for Ved. So many days were sad, so many days were filled with pain, and I told myself the day will pass,  and tomorrow will be nicer, less sad, less painful. But while he was admitted, and I was visiting, tending to him every morning and evening, I did have a few hours to myself. And my friends were helping me, giving me so much attention and support. One late evening Ved called from the hospital and heard happy chatter in the background, he got wild. I  received a full lecture about sleeping in time every night, and what is good for my health, and understanding my priorities,  etc. Ved wanted to control me, even from the hospital. 

A few other friends came to help and ask after Ved. I was thankful to John and Faiza, who always offered to stay. While John was around at all hours, Faiza and Mahesh turned up after work. One evening after we all ate a meal together, I sent them away, because secretly I wanted to spend time with  Mahesh. In a few days Ved would be back, and I may not get this opportunity. 

I had never felt like this before. Every minute was beautiful.  He was inspiring in his subtle ways. For every problem, he would calmly explain the pros and cons, and tell me, ‘let’s find a way’. As compared to Ved, whose reaction was always like, ‘Oh my god, what did you do? Let’s fix it or else the  damages will be terrible.’ And of course, the fault was always mine.  

One time Mahesh had to go to Glasgow for some errands. I  asked if I could tag along. He agreed readily. No fuss. After he finished her work at some office, we hung out at a café.  I said I want to buy something and send for my sister. He smiled, ‘sure, let’s shop for your sister!’ It was a pleasure,  going in and out of shops, enjoying, discussing about items and prices, making a decision together. In the past 30 years,  Ved sneered at me whenever I wanted to send something back for my family. As if it was his money I was spending.  As if it was his time I was wasting by checking out things at a  store. He didn’t allow me to use a single pound on my own,  as I wanted. It wouldn’t be wrong to say, he didn’t like me to use a single minute on my own, as I wanted. 

Something was changing inside me; things were getting friendlier between us. I realized I was falling for a younger man.  Past twenty-five years I had met many people, decent men as well, developed friendships, but this? Feelings were being stirred up, which I didn’t even know will be reciprocated.  Forget reciprocation, why was I even thinking that way. Because all Mahesh was doing was caring for me like a friend, asking about my health. Nothing was ever suggestive from his side, not even a brush of hands. Was I making up stuff in my head for no reason? I was ashamed of this turmoil inside my heart.  

I called my sister, ‘whatever happened to my anger against men? About, not ever trusting a man? I am questioning my beliefs. I am falling in love.’ 

Pooja went berserk. She wanted to know more about him,  and the more I shared, she was like, ‘is he for real?’ In flesh and blood? Do such nice men exist?’ The ones we dream about in our romantic fairy tales. The knight in shining armour, who  I had come to understand by now, absolutely will not walk in from that door, leave alone come riding on a white horse.  Pooja and I were friends and confidantes and she was totally digging him, as young girls say nowadays. He shared honestly about his family, background, his father, his city Hyderabad, little incidents that made me feel closer to him. And I shared nuggets with my sister.  

I chewed on her brains, calling and pouring my emotions everyday - morning I would be dreamy, by afternoon anxious,  by evening doubtful, sighing at night, as any other heart brimming with love would. We argued, and we giggled.  

‘Maybe I’m not up to this game’, I told her one day.  

‘But he makes you happy! If you give up now, what else is there?’ she cajoled. 

Extracted with permission from Purnima Gangam's Rainbow After Storm; published by StoryMirror Infotech Pvt Ltd