That reminded me of one more gruesome and despicable face of society which I have come to loath in a way or another. Not long after my marriage in a usual busy evening I got a call from my parents and the voice behind the telephone, of the receiver was in a tone we call grief-stricken as words seem to be unable to born in the throat of the speaker. I was silent, not being able to gather courage to ask why such sorrowful voice and ended up standing with the phone in hand. Finally the speakers from opposite, my father, gathered up his scattered shreds of courage, as I was able to sense, and spoke "She is dead… your sister….. is no longer…. alive."
With those words the puzzle formed in my head out of guessing his thought, came to fit in pieces as a satisfaction of quenching the curiosity came but the overwhelming tsunami of unimaginable sorrow came in uncharacteristically fast that the satisfaction of before of size of a drop, got lost in immense tsunami as the phone is my hand fall hard on floor making a shattering voice but I am not certain whether it was voice of that phone or my heart.
I loved my big sister just as I loved my mother but there was something more to it that I was closer to my sister than mother, given how we shared every little things in our common life and that day I lost my biggest support to drag on with my daily life. The news was shocking and the grief was heart breaking but what happened after that killed me, not physically but mentally, it sure did. My sister's husband had a second marriage not long after her death under the name of his two kids yet till this date my sister's both kids have lived and cared after by my parents or the kids' grandparents, on the other hand their father was enjoying his new married life.
I knew how my sister treasured her husband and his family but was gifted with unfaithfulness and immense contempt in return, which made me unable to put faith in someone else and slapped me into realising how pathetic it is to look at someone else for precious things such as love and commitment and gave me an unshakable ability to close myself off of the world.
That horrible story of my sister's life had also shown me the sick mentality of society where a women who is called 'Laxmi' of a house, who pours all her life and energy in her own world, her family, while sacrificing all her time and burning all her wishes until even her soul rips apart in pieces, such great figure is just so easy to replace that even her death didn't looked mournful.
Also nothing changes in the man's life even after his wife's death except for a presence in a less which he can easily fill even in his 70s, if rich.
But on the other hand a widow women has nothing left after her husband, everything changes in just one second, she has no right left to wear bright shining clothes and jewelries or no right of getting doled up, has to live in quarantine on any auspicious occasion, not even spicy or decorated foods are for her and the worst ritual of all 'Sati pratha' was also related to this situation where a woman gets burn with her dead husband yet husband has never left anything for her, dying with her is a far off from expectation. I can't understand of the need of such great discrimination. And how come women can't see these mountain high facts of them being wronged on every step of their life.