“I think God, in creating man, somewhat overestimated his ability.”
― Oscar Wilde

I still remember the day when I was put in front of the unknown like I was an exhibit for a show and some art appreciators had come to see me. It was the very day I was thrown into an incessant trial of my life. And then happened my big fake straight wedding. My brother knew, and so did my parents, but just to get the societal pressure off their backs and to appease their families, my family thrust me into this marriage because, as per them, if anyone gets to know my truth, I will be considered an aberration. In Indian culture, a wedding is an apex of family life, but this marriage was about hiding secrets. The secret of my truth, my identity; just to save themselves from the abolishment from that very society. With every ritual tearing me apart, killing me within; I remained shut as my parents were happy.

Within my heart, I was already married; married to the man I loved. Tied in a Gandharva Marriage*. While my body was there mouthing the fake vows; my soul remained where it was supposed to. The unbearable pain of something that I can’t even explain in words. I wish the gush of tears would have scrubbed everything at that very moment, but I guess, some fictions are never true.

*Gandharva Marriage (Sanskrit: गन्धर्व विवाह, pronounced gənd̪ʱərvə vɪvaːhə), according to Apastamba Grhyasutra – ancient Hindu literature, is one of the eight classical types of Hindu marriage. This ancient marriage tradition from the Indian subcontinent was based on mutual attraction between two individuals of not necessarily opposite genders, with no rituals, witnesses, or family participation. They meet each other of their own accord, consensually agree to live together, and their relationship is consummated in copulation born of passion. This form of marriage did not require the consent of parents or anyone else. According to Vedic records, this is one of the earliest and most common forms of marriage in Rig Vedic times. The marriage of Dushyanta and Shakuntala was a historically celebrated example of this class of marriage.

To keep my mock marriage viable, I was threatened with all means possible; from my parents leaving the house to their attempt of committing suicide. The constant mental harassment got me to a point where I will not think twice before ending this life now. In the whole scenario, my only fault is that I equally love my parents as much as I love my man. My greatest strength became my worst weakness. To truce the situation, we live together mocking the whole relationship, so that when the family comes to visit, we act like we are an actual couple living together peacefully. My fear is not about being disowned, as I don’t need anything from them, but about their well-being.

We are living in a challenging relationship, both suffocated for not being able to do what we want to, and it will surely take its toll one day. My house and my family were my biggest escapades, but now I escape from them every time. I hate that I get two leaves a week. I hate going back home because I know I will be going through this again and again.

She, the societally legitimate partner, is fully aware of my truth. Even if she can’t or doesn’t want to be in this agreement, neither will she move on. She will not make a career choice, or maybe she doesn’t want to. She probably never wanted to work. It was an illusion that she built around her and the world. She never wanted to, nor will she; that is the truth.

Since the first night of the wedding, on the bed, I had put pillows between us, but she removed them every time, trying to sleep next to me, touching me, even after I said “NO.”. I feel disgusted when she comes close to me. I’m not sorry for being what I am, but I feel sorry for her, who knowingly wants to get into something that is never going to work. When I said that I was in no state to make a physical relationship with her, she just said, “Let’s try it once, and it’s going to be fine.”. But I know the truth that I can’t. She slept early on many nights, but I couldn’t; because the disgust of sleeping next to her kills me.
When I requested a mutual annulment from this antipathy, all she said was “NO,” and here her “NO” is justified as she is being backed by the so-called society, and my “NO” had no value, even on the bed.

How can a man be raped? How can it be a rape when he is married? How can it be rape as she is her wife? How can a woman rape a man?
All these may sound so unreal, but that’s my life’s truth. With the consent of my parents, she has been mentally raping me for the last 5 months, every single night. She has to because that’s what her parents taught her. She has to because that is what my family told her. She has to because that’s what society wants from her. The society talks about the daughters who have been trained to fulfil their duties towards their spouse and their family, but no one talks about the sons who have been burning in the same pyre.

If society says marital rape isn’t an actual thing, ask me what I go through every day and night.