Divorce and high cost of leaving

A software engineer and his wife, between them, have filed 67 cases against each other, for separation – News Agencies.    Divorce cases are among the most bitterly fought in courts around the world. The United States, where married couples separate almost by rote, and sometimes the pre-nup even proscribes the number of years they would like to remain in wedded bliss, dubiously leads the way. Other countries in the western hemisphere are not exactly laggards when it comes to couples bidding ‘Adios Amigo’ to each other. We in India have traditionally been somewhat conservative when it comes to breaking one’s sacred wedded vows, but things are taking a turn, for better or for worse. The jury is still out. Gone are the days when an Indian couple, once they have grown weary of waking up every morning and seeing the same face on the other side of the bed, keep their counsels to themselves. That’s yesterday’s news. The times they are a-changin, in the immortal words of reluctant Nobel laureate, Bob Dylan.
Witness a recent case, where a software engineer from Bangalore, holding a US citizenship and his wife, have collectively filed a staggering 67 cases against each other. An appalled Supreme Court judge was trying to get his learned head around these astounding numbers – 58 cases filed by the husband against his wife, and 9 cases filed by the wife against the husband. Points of contention between the warring couple include dowry harassment, domestic violence, child custody and contempt of court. Quite a handful to be getting along with. Looks like a bad habit they have grown accustomed to, and are unable to get out of. (‘What do you want to do this morning darling? Why not take a pleasant drive to our lawyer’s and file another divorce case?’). Naturally the learned judges at the Supreme Court are appalled.

While your chronicler was not an actual eye witness to any of these dramatic proceedings, one can take an educated guess as to how some of these hearings might have unravelled. Judge – ‘Good grief! It’s the two of you again. For the 67th time. Make up your minds. I can only paraphrase Oscar Wilde, “To apply for divorce once may be considered a misfortune, to come up for the same thing 67 times seems to smack of carelessness”’.   Counsel for the Defence (COD) – ‘Very droll, your honour. But my client, the husband, has valid cause for these multiple applications for divorce. He is facing a most intransigent foe in the form of his wife, who refuses to back down on any of the demands, and won’t even meet my client half way’.

Judge – ‘That is self-evident, Counsel. How can they meet half way when the husband is holed up somewhere in Seattle and the wife is crying her eyes out into her pillow every night in Malleswaram? And the grandparents are suffering from nervous and physical exhaustion, playing hide and seek daily with their 4-year old granddaughter. To meet half way, they’ll have to land up in Qatar, Bahrain or some such arid stretch’. COD – ‘You are in prime form this morning, your honour. If nothing else, we should all be rolling in the aisles with mirth and merriment. A splendid time is guaranteed for all, to quote The Beatles.’ Judge – ‘Please stop quoting from ancient pop songs, even when complimenting me. Something from the Gita would be more appropriate in an Indian court. That’s enough of that. Shall we press on with the case? Would the Counsel for the Prosecution (COP) please tell us why his client, the wife, is unwilling to agree to a reasonable request that the father of the child be allowed weekend visits to spend quality time with his offspring?’

COP – ‘With due respect your honour, the mother of the child is not entirely convinced that these weekend visits will not be used by the father to brainwash the child. In fact, the last time they accidentally ran into each other in a mall, the father whispered something into the child’s ear, after which the little girl kept muttering things like “Mummy, Mummy, alimony, mental cruelty, physical incompatibility”, and so on’. Judge – ‘Counsel, are you trying to tell me that this sweet, little child can actually pronounce such words, leave alone understand them?’ COD – ‘Exactly, your honour. Excellent question. I demand that we call the child to the witness box to repeat those words and explain their meaning’. Judge – ‘Counsel for the Defence, are you conducting proceedings here, or am I? May I remind you this is my court, and I can have you evicted. When I want your advice, I’ll give it to you. We will leave the child out of this’. COD – ‘Apologies, your honour. Just trying to help’.

COP – ‘Thank you, your honour. This is the last time I will be representing my client in this case. I am completely fed up. May I request your lordship to ring the curtain down on this infructuous litigation?’ Judge – ‘Trying to impress me with big words, eh? But I do agree. I have a sneaky suspicion this couple has hatched a cunning conspiracy to keep filing cases against each other and get into the Guinness Book of Records. They pay good money for that sort of thing. I am passing a suo moto judgment. Both of them will be put under house arrest for a trial period of 3 months. They will live in separate bedrooms, and the child will alternate between the parents every other day. That should teach them a lesson’.
COD and COP (in unison) – ‘What about conjugal visits, your honour?’ Judge – ‘Naughty devils. The thought did occur to me. If that were to happen, I won’t stand in the way and the case can be closed. In any case, I heard the little girl snivelling and muttering something about wanting a little sister to play with. I hope the parents can take a hint. I do not wish to hear from any of you ever again. Case dismissed’.

(The author is a brand consultant with an interest in cricket, music and good humour)