Column | The wife who ‘quiet-quit’ after 60 years Premium

Love is not the most important thing in a relationship, says Phuphee, and explains why

‘In any relationship, there should always be more respect than there is love’ | Photo Credit: Illustration: Zainab Tambawalla

A long time ago, a situation most unusual arose. It was the beginning of autumn. On a smoky afternoon, an elderly gentleman arrived at Phuphee’s house. As soon as he saw her, he started weeping. Phuphee lit two cigarettes and asked him to tell her what misfortune had befallen him.

‘My dear sister, my wife is asking for a divorce. We are at death’s door and she has decided that she no longer wants to be my wife. I do not know what spirit has possessed her. Please, you must come with me and exorcise whatever demon has found its way into her soul,’ he wailed.

‘I will come and speak with her in the morning,’ Phuphee said.

‘No, you must come at once…’, he started, but she raised her hand to signal the end of the conversation.

The next morning, after breakfast, Phuphee got ready to go. I asked her if I could come, too. She said yes.

We walked into the heart of the village. As we walked, I noticed the villagers staring at us expectantly. Everyone knew that the old woman had asked for a divorce. They thought she was possessed because no sane woman would leave a marriage, especially after nearly 60 years. It worried the villagers greatly that this calamity might be contagious. Divorces were uncommon, and it was practically unheard of that a woman should ask for one.

Phuphee knocked on the door and was greeted by the elderly man. We were shown into a small kitchen where the old woman was cooking something on the dan. ‘Stop that and come and speak to the peer saab,’ he yelled at his wife, ‘She has come to cure you of your demons.’

‘I will speak to her alone,’ Phuphee informed him.

Once he left, Phuphee went and sat next to the woman. She put her arm around her shoulder. The woman stopped what she was doing and cried. Phuphee held her for what seemed like ages until she was done. She got up and splashed water on her face and came and sat down.

‘I have no demons inside of me,’ she said, looking at Phuphee.

‘I know,’ Phuphee replied. ‘Tell me what you need.’

‘I no longer wish to stay with this man. I was married off to him when I was 16, but with every passing year I have realised he has no respect for me. He says he loves me but not once has he shown me a grain of respect. While he earned for our family, I tended to the children, the home and the animals. But ever since I can remember, everything has always been about him. The mornings were about helping him get ready for work, the afternoons were spent in cooking for him, and cleaning, so that when he came home, everything would be exactly as he likes, and the evenings were spent serving him dinner and helping him relax. All I seem to have done for the past 60 years is make everyone else comfortable.

‘He has always treated his life, his personhood as far more important than mine. Somehow his eating habits were more important than mine, his daily needs were more important than mine. I understand now that he does not know what a marriage is. He doesn’t treat it as a partnership. He treats me like an employee. I may not be his equal, but he is definitely not my superior. There is nothing you can do to make me change my mind. However many years I have left, I will spend them unhurriedly trying to make myself comfortable.’

Phuphee sat there listening quietly. She hugged the old woman and we left.

Next day, the elderly man came to see her.

‘Nothing can be done,’ she told him. ‘You will have to let her go. No spell on Earth will help you make her stay and I think you already know that’.

The man didn’t say anything. He simply got up and left.

Later, I asked Phuphee why she hadn’t done anything to make her stay.

‘Sometimes it is more important to remove people from the demons than to remove demons from people,’ she replied. ‘But he loves her,’ I said.

‘Love is very important, but it is not the most important thing in a relationship. Respect is. Having only love is like eating only pastries and cakes. They taste good momentarily but they cannot sustain you. Respect is the nourishing food you cook at home, the tchatte ras [soup], the dal, the gogji maaz [turnip meat stew], the haakh [collard greens] — these are the things that strengthen your bones and your body. In any relationship, there should always be more respect than there is love. You are very young and the prospect of having pastries every day is an exciting one, but once you get older, you will start relishing the hearty home food,’ she replied, passing me a small pastry she had got for the elderly couple but had brought back home instead.

She was right, of course. At that age, I did enjoy pastries more than home cooked food, but as I got older, I understood that while love helps you fly, respect is what keeps you grounded.

Saba Mahjoor, a Kashmiri living in England, spends her scant free time contemplating life’s vagaries.