© The Indian Express Pvt Ltd
Tags:
Journalism of Courage
Rekha and Raghav Subramaniam were childhood sweethearts. They grew up in the same neighbourhood, attended the same school and their families, too, knew each other. Their love blossomed into marriage in their early 20s, after five years of courtship.
Their relationship was idyllic to outsiders but behind closed doors, it was far from perfect. Despite being devoted parents and deeply connected to their families — taking on the responsibility of raising the daughter of Raghav’s sister because of her untimely passing — they shared no intimacy. After spending nearly a quarter of a century together, they decided to separate, filing for divorce by mutual consent about four years ago.
“Once our daughters were ready for college, Raghav suggested we separate,” says Rekha, 50. This saddened her because she thought life would continue in this home even if they didn’t live like husband and wife. He moved out into a different apartment in the same complex and Rekha even helped him set up his new home. They continued to share the same domestic worker and driver, but when Raghav fell in love with a friend, she moved to Chennai and started life anew. Rekha now has a fulfilling career as a special educator and runs a sari business.
Reflecting on their relationship, Raghav, 52, says, “A courtship is like an interview where you put your best foot forward. You don’t get to see each other’s dark sides. Very early on, even before our first child was born, I had called off the marriage. But then the family stepped in and we decided to make an honest attempt, it didn’t work out. I wish we had gone for counselling, but back then you would go to a psychiatrist only if something was really wrong with you as a person.”
Rekha, however, struggles to pinpoint the cause of their marital discord. She ponders the emotional disconnect in their marriage. “There was no love or intimacy after the first few years. He is a good man; the only abuse, I would say, was emotional. It was challenging to live under the same roof and not have him there, for me, as my husband,” she says.
While she has nothing negative to say about him, there is a lot of anger within her now. “Why me? Why didn’t I get love? I am all alone in my life. And while I have a really fulfilling career, there is no one to hand me a glass of water when I am sick. I am grateful for everything but I don’t have love. Maybe I wasn’t meant to have it.”
Rekha and Raghav are not alone in their need to sever ties at a later age. Mumbai-based Bharti Maniar, too, decided to call it quits after nearly five decades of bearing with domestic violence in her marriage. Bharti was nearing her mid-20s when her family started looking for a suitable boy. So, when a colleague proposed marriage, they tied the knot after three years of courtship. She was 27 then. “I noticed his anger issues but never thought he could resort to violence,” says Bharti.
Things became worse after she quit work to be with the children. “My husband wasn’t happy with my decision. I was earning about Rs 1,000 a month, which was a lot of money in those days. The fights became worse,” she says. Soon Bharti, who had five years of experience working at a chartered accountancy firm, joined her husband and handled tasks like filing income tax returns and other accounting duties. “All my earnings went to him. Even earlier, I was giving all my salary at home. So even though I was working, there was no financial security,” she says.
She endured it, including years of domestic abuse and, later, infidelity, because “everybody advised me to stay put till my daughters got married.” However, it was her younger daughter who intervened, announcing that she wouldn’t get married until her mother ended the relationship. Bharti moved out in 2009 and the divorce came through in 2011. She relocated to another part of the city and started working again. “I now manage mutual fund accounts and trade in the stock market. Finally, my money is my own,” says Bharti, 72.
Bharti, Raghav and Rekha represent the generation that has knocked on the court’s doors asking for a dissolution of their marriage. Their experiences underscore the global trend of increased marital dissolution among older couples, typically after the age of 50, also referred to as ‘grey divorces’ or ‘silver splitters’.
In the US, the rate of grey divorce has doubled since 1990 for Americans aged 50 and older, and tripled for those aged 65 and older. According to a study published in The Journals of Gerontology, in 1970, about eight per cent of Americans who divorced were age 50 and older. By 2019, that share had jumped to 36 per cent. About one in 10 people who divorced in 2019 were at least 65 years old. According to a United Nations report titled “Progress of the World’s Women 2019-2020: Families in a Changing World”, divorce rates in India have doubled since 2000, rising from 0.6 per cent in 2005 to 1.1 per cent in 2019, with urban areas making up the largest proportion.
Besides domestic abuse and infidelity, the reasons for separation, both globally and in India, include differences in life goals post-retirement, empty nest syndrome, the desire for a fresh start, ending years of taunts, unresolved issues, neglect and a lack of emotional support and intimacy.
Women also feel that they were in unequal partnerships where they solely took over the domestic load and child-rearing while also experiencing a lack of support, respect and appreciation from their partners. Equally telling is a 2015 research study conducted by the American Sociological Association that highlighted that 69 per cent of all divorce petitions in the US were initiated by women.Lawyers in India also note a significant rise among senior couples. Mumbai-based lawyers Kranti Sathe and Mrinalini Deshmukh, with decades of experience in family court, shed light on the complexities. “Domestic violence, unless frequent, is often downplayed,” says Kranti, “Other forms of neglect and emotional abuse like silent treatment still occur.”
Mrinalini lists compatibility as the biggest reason. “Many people have teething issues in their marriage but since they have a child within the first few years, they concentrate on raising the child,” she says. Other reasons include mid-life crises and a desire for personal freedom or another chance at love.
Both highlight a shift in attitudes towards divorce, stating that earlier there was a hesitation, especially among women, to ask for a divorce. But financial insecurity and concern for children, once significant barriers, are now less prohibitive factors.
Zirak Marker, a Mumbai-based family psychiatrist, sees a rise in grey divorces, particularly after the Covid pandemic. He attributes it to prolonged periods of close proximity. Cultural factors often coerce individuals into marriages without their choice, leading to years of duty-bound relationships. As couples reach their 50s, they yearn for personal fulfilment and purpose, especially after experiencing loss and realising life’s brevity. Zirak elaborates how people sometimes seek companionship outside their marriages, leading to emotional and sexual affairs.
While most lawyers say that in the metros divorce doesn’t carry the stigma it did earlier, the reality is far from it. Shasvathi Siva, an advertisement professional and author of Divorce Is Normal (Penguin Random House, 2023), says, “I have seen highly educated families sever ties with their children and relatives without providing them support.” Siva, who helms a support group for people going through separation, notes that the main challenge for grey divorces is the fear that they will be alone if they fall ill. “They don’t want to be a burden on their children but at the same time, they are not sure of living alone,” she says.
Financial management is an oft-repeated concern, too. Agrees Manju Sara Rajan, a Bengaluru-based content and communication consultant with diverse editorial experience. “In the classic structure of Indian marriage, there are a lot of parts that you are not concerned about as a woman, you kind of ignore finances and investments,” says the 45-year-old, “Now I have become cognisant of the fact that money is independence.” Today, after two years of being divorced, she finds joy in her ability to support herself and her children. Her parents, who weren’t initially happy with her decision, too, didn’t stand in her way.
She rebuilt her world, brick by brick. New traditions replaced old ones and supportive friends filled the void. Her biggest discovery has been her resilience. “One day you are at the top of everything and the second day you are not. But the idea that you can find solutions as problems come up, I think that has given me a great deal of reassurance in myself,” says Manju.
But divorce is not a struggle for women alone. Men, too, feel they get the short end of the stick. In her book, Shasvathi highlights the male perspective. “Most often, men face issues with child custody. It is a difficult thing because while they might have been bad husbands, they aren’t necessarily bad fathers. That differentiation comes in for a few good men also,” she says.
For 48-year-old Yogesh Jain, for instance, not just managing finances but also rebuilding his life as a father has been a struggle. His arranged marriage at the age of 22 had fundamental issues early on. Even the six months of counselling didn’t help. “Children are predominantly biased towards their mothers. You have to ensure that your children feel secure and you take care of your wife, keeping your ego aside. It is financially challenging, I am taking care of the foreign education for both my children while also running two homes,” says Mumbai-based Yogesh.
Like many other men, he feels unheard and marginalised, and laments the lack of avenues for men to voice their grievances, including inside the court. Zirak adds, “Often, men come to me saying they don’t know how to be an effective husband.”
Ashish Vidyarthi, actor, motivational speaker and now a stand-up comedian, decided to part ways with his wife Rajoshi (Piloo) in 2021, after being married for 22 years. Ashish maintained how the couple, who never fought with one another, found themselves at a crossroads when it came to their visions for the future.
“I had two choices — either to drag it (the marriage) and complain about what wasn’t there and slowly let the feelings become vicious to the point that we begin to hate each other or to have a conversation about it.”
Even this stage, he says, was preceded by hours, days, weeks and months of going back and making their marriage work, including seeking relationship counselling for a couple of months. “It was a long process and a difficult decision. Who doesn’t want to have a regular home where your child can return? But the relationship has changed and while pain is inevitable, suffering is a choice,” he says.
The couple was clear on not bringing any animosity between them. “Till a few days before the court granted us divorce, Piloo was handling my bank accounts, and I made sure that she is well taken care of after our divorce,” says Ashish, 58, who tied the knot again in 2023.
“Society has a way of looking at divorce as a failure, but it is actually an act of immense bravery because you are completely walking out into the unknown. It’s not a failure but a declaration of hope in your own self, in your own abilities, in your own future. It’s difficult but not a failure,” says Manju.
