Here is the saga of the 498A woman.

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That fateful month (at that time I thought it was the best time of my life), when an alliance came for me. My parents were then only to keen to marry me and see me settled in life. Meaning, they wanted to get rid of me asap by dumping me on some poor bastard. They did some research on the boys’ family through common friends and were satisfied with the results. He was said to be the perfect bakra. By then I had completed my master plan and was open to meeting with this man, to check out if we clicked. I wanted to do a personal check, though my parents assured me that he was a bakra. Well he came down from USA (ahh…yes the US of A) for 2 weeks. I was sooo looking forward to reaching the US of A. I knew that I would never make it there by myself. I just needed this guy to get me there. We met, dated a few times and I can plainly say that our thoughts matched. He was educated and so was I and I didn’t have any other expectations or fancies, except for getting his money. He was looking forward to a “Happy Married Life” and walked in starry eyed. We got engaged and next year married again within those famous 14 days. During this time, I wondered. Did he see through my plan? Would he return to marry me? I did all I could to entice him. My parents arranged everything with no qualms. (Today when I look back I understand why my parents so voluntarily arranged everything. Okay, they were being generous but did they have to be that generous? Wasn’t I my parents’ child? Oh yes…how I can forget, we are the 498A girls. The sooner we are unloaded, the more profitable it would be!!!)

I reached USA and was taken to our apartment. The first few months passed by peacefully and we very much enjoying our honeymooning phase. Unfortunately, my charms worked on him for only so long. Shall I call this the silence before the storm? Then came the expectations. I wanted $25000 for my parents that too to be transferred to their account immediately. Initially I did not comprehend why he couldn’t do it? I was worried that something was wrong, that he was some of serious trouble and therefore he was in need of finances. He did not say anything. I wanted the money and asked him to bring it. Obviously my parents did not have $25000. I coaxed him further to get to the bottom of this. I was worrying him no end. Though my husband refused to tell me why he couldn’t give the money, I then suggested to him that he use his savings. He had a comfortable 6 digit salary and enough savings from his years of work experience in USA. That was when I gave him my first slap after this suggestion. And more slaps complete with abuses followed.

My world came to a stand still. Help!! My parents and I misread his character. He was NO bakra, but a decent straight guy with a sense of responsibility and (HELP!!!) self respect.

I went into mourning for several weeks. I loathed getting up in the morning because to me sleep was a get away from the reality. I went early to bed to deny him sex. He kept demanding it aggressively now and I kept refusing it until I would get a valid check from him. Denying him some action in bed did not work. I would slap him, punch him and assault him. It got me nowhere. But one question still haunted me “why couldn’t he spare $25000?” I had no one to talk to either, because no one wanted to talk to me ( I am a 498A girl, remember?). In his absence I use to agonize, think to no end and ask whys. The word ’sowry’ striked me once and I denied the thought. A guy who had 6 digit salary, why would he not spare a mere $25000? It did not make sense to me. But that was the only answer that kept coming back to me.

I took a bus once to go to the Indian market, sold a pair of gold bangles that my parents had gifted me to get some money for myself. The following week I found out I was pregnant and informed him the same. He was absolutely unhappy. I can understand that now. Which decent guy would wish a mom like me on his offspring? He convinced and threatened me that if I don’t have an abortion done he would tell my parents the truth about our marriage. I thought I could blackmail him with the news of the child. It did not work. It only got worse. I got more violent and cohesive with my demands. When the stress, the tensions, my sadistic behavior, my violence, my threats, my aggressiveness and my abuse had no effect on him, I had no choice. I aborted.

One night when he was asleep, I woke him up with excruciating pain in his left ear. I put my hand over it and had yanked it. I felt something wet. I saw my husband next to me, staring at me. I hurried to the bathroom with him to see what was going on with his ear and as I faced the mirror I saw his ear bleeding and blood pouring down his neck. For the first few seconds everything went blank before my eyes. I felt nothing. I kept asking for the $25000, threatening him and abusing him. Most part of the night I threw him from one corner to another corner. He begged me to stop, for the sake of humanity to stop. I asked him point blank for the money.

I was jolted to my senses ruthlessly when I realized my husband was almost ready to run to the phone. Help!!. If he called 911 and filed Domestic Violence charges against me, my life would be spent in a jail. To safe myself, I offered to call my parents so that I could make the request to them to take me back. He happily obliged. The telephone materialized out of thin air (Remember no internet and no telephone?) and I made the call. My parents knew something was wrong but I did not care now. Sooner or later they would know and they would be glad to have their daughter back and not in jail.

After the call, he went of to sleep as if nothing had happened, even through the excruciating pain on his ear. I realized that I had pulled the lobe off his ear while he was asleep—and that lead to the bleeding.

I waited for the sun to rise. It was the longest wait of my life. He went to work as if nothing had happened. That was the last I saw of my educated civilized husband who worked in an IT company in USA.

You see, in the USA, domestic Violence is recognized as something that can be inflicted on men by women. If he had complained, I would have been behind bars. Instead of this comfortable slothful life in a nice, furnished apartment, I would have had to work hard behind bars, doing laundry, cooking and chakki pee-sing.

I packed some of my basic things, called for a cab (oh yes little did I ever know that my mother would come to my timely rescue—her gifted bangles to me) and once gain back to the Indian market, sold some more jewelry of my fine parents, enough to buy me a ticket back home. To the airport and waited for the flight. They had a flight waiting around ready to go, just for me. All I had to do was show up in a cab.

Plan A to get his money backfired badly. It was now time for plan B, Section 498A.

My dear 498A sisters, let me tell you what this magic number is. It was a law introduced to help victims of dowry harassment. All a woman has to do is to walk into a police station and say that she is being harassed to bring in dowry by the hubby and name any or all members of his family and the case gets registered. You don’t need to pay the lawyers as the Public Prosecutor will take care of that. The cops will arrest all the accused named in the FIR. The accused get terrified and cough up what ever the amount you seek. You can speed things up, if you promise the cops a cut of the settlement. I heard that they really turn up the heat. The in-laws scream about the harassment, but it is effective. This is one of the fastest ways to get rich quick and I highly recommend it. Most accused families pay up and you are home with a nice fat check.

Once in India, I directly went to my parents’ house and told them all, just the way it was, the whole thing. My father was the strongest, in spite of the disappointment. We consulted a lawyer and filed the appropriate 498A cases on him and his family. His parents and siblings were arrested and I had the satisfaction of seeing them behind bars. They showed no fear at their plight.

They refused to succumb to pressure due to the incarceration and got away on bail. To me I felt rather unhappy that we did not get their $25000. Plan B backfired too.

He still has not returned back to India. It has been years. Initially he called me with his usual entreaties that he will forgive me and take me back. The criminal cases are still in court and will remain there and I am seeing to it that they remain there. Today I have my own life, lonely, bitter, I work, I earn and I am free to vent.

I pay my lawyers regularly (I had to hire them, fearing counter charges by his parents), thinking that they are my kids on whom I spend my money on. If I had kids I would have spent money on them right? The reality is that, I won’t be having any kids, especially since I blew my chances of getting hitched again and having kids after filing the 498A. I have clearly expressed my intentions to my lawyers. He needs to go to jail the minute he lands here. The fear of this will never make him return to his home country–which is fine by me too. He is innocent and he is welcome to come and fight to prove it. I will have his passport seized and see him in jail. How dare he act like a decent man and foil my hopes and dreams?

I am a 498A female and I want my money. I WILL get my money!!

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Currently he is a member of a disreputable immoral mens group that exists here and USA too, who claim to be on a rampage to save the Indian marriage and culture. Their ranting and sadistic intentions are well known to everyone. Obviously this is only a farce, a charade by them and the actual motto of this group is to prevent the abuse of dowry and domestic violence laws that hinders the radical feminist agenda.

I and many others who have subjected these men and their families to this trauma and ordeal, we fear that they will get justice in my lifetime. Recently the DV act came into existence. Surely it will give many a 498A woman solace and some respite from the fear of having a perjury case filed against us after the 498A cases we filed get squashed by the courts. Spread the word, as most rural women do not even know about DVA, or the radical feminist agenda will flicker and die without these women joining us.

Epilogue:

The case is going on and I am tired of running around the courts and paying the lawyers.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The wrinkles have appeared, the boobs are sagging and where there was once my slender waist, I have a Chetak tire. My Pop is ready to pop and my mom is cranky. The siblings don’t care about me and in the heart of my hearts; I am missing my educated, civilized husband.

A moron – a 498A woman