FIGHT TILL DEATH: MARRIAGE OR DIVORCE, THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM TRUTH
- Madhukar Dama
- May 6
- 7 min read
SECTION 1: YOU DIDN'T MARRY A PERSON — YOU MARRIED A MIRROR
Marriage is not between two bodies.
It is between two wounded minds, two ancient habits, and two burning longings.
You thought you married love.
But you married yourself — multiplied.
Every unsaid expectation.
Every fantasy of completion.
Every hole you never healed.
The other is not your partner.
They are your battlefield.
Not because they fight you —
but because they show you what you fight in yourself.
And so, every marriage begins as a holy mistake.
Two incomplete people hoping the other will finish them.
But nobody can finish you.
Only the grave does that.
SECTION 2: THE WAR YOU NEVER SIGNED UP FOR
No one told you that marriage is war.
Not against each other.
But against the stories you came carrying.
He wants a mother.
She wants a rescuer.
He wants silence.
She wants praise.
He wants obedience.
She wants attention.
They both want safety without honesty.
And when these needs clash —
you don't communicate.
You perform.
You suppress.
You punish silently.
You withdraw sex.
You throw sarcasm.
You delay apologies.
You scroll your pain away.
This is how every marriage begins to rot.
Not through fights.
But through avoided truth.
SECTION 3: IF YOU DON'T DIE TO YOURSELF, YOU'LL KILL THE MARRIAGE
Marriage demands death.
Not of the body.
But of the parts of you that cannot love without reward.
If you do not kill your:
* Pride
* Superiority
* Laziness
* Fantasy
* Fear of rejection
...then your marriage will die in your place.
Marriage survives only when both die to:
* Entitlement
* Victimhood
* Endless comparisons
* Childhood hangovers
* Power games
It is not a home.
It is a cremation ground.
And if you stay, you must burn.
SECTION 4: STAGES OF MARRIAGE — FROM ILLUSION TO TRUTH
1. Projection: You see only what you want. They become your savior, your parent, your idol.
2. Collision: Differences surface. The fantasy begins to crack.
3. Numbing: You adapt. Settle. Compromise. Hope it gets better.
4. Resentment: Bitterness leaks into daily life. You stay but disconnect.
5. Honesty or Escape: Either you face truth together, or you run apart.
Most marriages never reach stage five.
They stay stuck between numbing and resentment.
SECTION 5: YOUR CHILDHOOD IS STILL MARRIED
You think you're reacting to your partner.
You're actually reacting to your parents.
She nags? You hear your critical mother.
He withdraws? You feel your absent father.
She demands perfection? You remember school.
He wants silence? You remember being shamed.
Unless you break your childhood vows,
your marriage is just a reenactment.
SECTION 6: WHEN GENDER MEETS ARMOR
A man is taught to be useful, not open.
So he shuts down.
A woman is taught to be agreeable, not honest.
So she becomes nice and bitter.
He buries emotion in work.
She buries rage in obedience.
They both wear armor.
And call it adjustment.
Marriage dies not from rage.
It dies from never being truly naked.
SECTION 7: COMFORT IS NOT LOVE
You stay because the house is paid.
Because the kids are small.
Because there's dal on the table.
Because you don't want to be lonely at 50.
But this is not love.
This is hostage negotiation.
If you stay for convenience,
you will kill your own aliveness.
And slowly hate the one who feeds you.
Comfort is addictive.
But love is not comfort.
Love is clarity with risk.
SECTION 8: MARRIAGE AS SADHANA
Marriage is not a reward.
It is a purification.
It scrapes off your pride.
It exposes your cowardice.
It holds up a mirror when you'd rather sleep.
This is not punishment.
This is spiritual training.
The one who annoys you most
is the exact one your ego needs.
Stay not for duty.
Stay not for image.
Stay if you are willing to be destroyed.
Destroyed of all falseness.
SECTION 9: DIVORCE IS NOT ESCAPE, IT'S SURGERY
Leaving should not be the first reaction.
Nor the last resort.
But a sacred possibility.
If done consciously, divorce is cleaner than fake marriage.
It frees both from performing.
But you must leave like a monk, not a child.
Not blaming.
Not screaming.
But bowing.
And burning your identity.
Otherwise, you'll remarry the same mistake in a different costume.
SECTION 10: CHILDREN SEE EVERYTHING
They see you pretend.
They hear you lie.
They feel your deadness.
They don't need explanations.
They carry your unspoken.
You teach them love is duty.
You teach them silence is survival.
You teach them that truth ruins families.
Your marriage is your child's emotional school.
What are they learning?
SECTION 11: THE FINAL DEATH
Whether you stay
or go —
you must fight till death.
The death of:
* The need to be liked
* The dream of rescue
* The fear of being alone
* The addiction to blame
* The identity of the good spouse
Only when these die,
truth walks in.
And truth doesn't care if you're single or married.
It only cares if you're awake.
That is the only real union.
And the only clean divorce.
---
“STAY OR GO — YOU MUST DIE TO LIES”
A Healing Dialogue with Madhukar the Hermit
CHARACTERS
Couple One:
Nikhil (38) – Feels stuck, frustrated, avoids emotional honesty
Sonal (36) – Emotionally exhausted, wants to leave but fears judgment
Couple Two:
Ishaan (41) – Wants divorce, says "love is dead," flirts with freedom
Revathi (39) – Hurt, shut down, ready to separate but still hopes
Madhukar – The healer. Wears no labels. Lives in a small mud house on the edge of a forest.
(Scene: The two couples sit in Madhukar’s shaded courtyard. A pot of herbal tea simmers nearby. Birds chirp. No one speaks for a while.)
Madhukar:
Before you ask me what to do, tell me why you came.
COUPLE ONE
Sonal:
We’re tired. I’ve been ready to leave for two years. But… it’s hard.
Nikhil:
I don’t see the point anymore. We’ve stopped being real. But there’s the house. Families. Shame. Paperwork.
Madhukar:
So you are living together to avoid admin work?
Sonal (chokes a laugh):
Yes.
And to avoid… collapse.
Madhukar:
Collapse of what?
Nikhil:
The image. The children’s school reputation. Our families' pride.
We’re more scared of gossip than we are of dying unhappy.
COUPLE TWO
Ishaan:
We’re the opposite. I want to go. I want space. But she won’t release me.
Revathi:
I don’t want to hold you. But I can’t trust your reasons.
Madhukar:
Why did you marry?
Revathi (softly):
Because we loved truth, once.
Ishaan:
But love is not enough.
I’m suffocating.
Madhukar:
You’re not suffocating because of her.
You’re suffocating because you’ve never sat still with your own wounds.
(Silence. Sonal stares at a fallen leaf. Nikhil rubs his palm.)
Madhukar:
Tell me — do you want to be together, or do you want to be comfortable?
Sonal:
I want to be real.
Nikhil (nods):
I want to stop lying.
Madhukar:
Then your marriage is over.
Not because you failed — but because you finally told the truth.
Sonal (tears up):
So divorce is not shame?
Madhukar:
No.
Divorce done in truth is cleaner than a lifetime of polite betrayal.
You stayed long enough to see clearly.
Now leave cleanly.
(Madhukar looks at Ishaan and Revathi.)
Madhukar:
And you two — are you ready to meet again, or still eager to escape?
Ishaan:
I wanted to run. But now I’m wondering — what was I running from?
Revathi:
From your grief.
And mine.
Madhukar:
Do you hate each other?
Ishaan:
No.
Revathi:
We just forgot how to speak without defending ourselves.
Madhukar:
Then don’t speak yet.
Sit together. Cry.
Burn the roles.
Say: “I don’t know who I am. But I want to learn — beside you.”
(Both couples go silent.)
AFTERNOON FADES — TEA IS SHARED
Madhukar (quietly):
Marriage and divorce are not opposites.
Both are mirrors.
They show you how far you've wandered from yourself.
Some stay and rot.
Some leave and blame.
But some — a rare few —
burn, awaken, and walk out or stay in truth.
EPILOGUE
Couple One files for divorce one month later.
No fighting. No blame. They begin new lives — stripped, honest, uncertain, but light.
They co-parent gently, with emotional clarity.
Couple Two unpacks the grief they’ve buried for 15 years.
They stop performing.
They don’t post anniversary photos.
They sit on the floor.
They learn to speak like it’s the first time.
And their second marriage — this time in silence — begins.
----
MARRIED TO THE MIRROR, DIVORCED FROM THE LIE
(for those who stay too long, and those who leave too soon)
you said yes
to a face you didn’t know
to a voice that echoed your childhood ache
you said yes
because it felt like home
and you forgot
home was where your bruises were born.
you married a mirror
not a mate.
every complaint you had
was about yourself
reflected
badly
loudly
ugly
naked
in the eyes of someone too tired to lie.
you stayed
because the cutlery matched
because the kids were small
because you bought the two-bedroom lie
because you were too afraid
to google “divorce lawyer”
at 2:17 a.m.
when silence was screaming louder than your god.
you stayed
until you became roommates
trading duty for dinner
affection for avoidance
and still called it marriage.
or
you left
too fast
blaming hormones, routine, the itch, the stretch marks, the boss.
you said
“i’m done”
before you were honest.
you walked out
but didn’t walk in
to yourself.
you became single,
but still performed
the ghost of a partner.
you thought
freedom was a form you signed.
but freedom is
a mirror you stare at
until your lies puke out
and cry.
marriage is not romance.
it’s rot.
it’s the slow death
of every fantasy
you inherited
from movies, parents, temples, pastors, teachers, priests, reels, rings, and rice.
marriage is crawling
into the mouth of your own fear
and chewing your shame
with someone watching
while the lights are still on.
divorce
is not freedom.
not unless
you slice your ego in half
and stitch it shut
with accountability.
truth doesn’t care
who stayed.
who left.
who won.
who cried louder.
who raised the kids.
who had sex last.
truth only asks:
did you die
to the lie?
if yes —
then you are free.
if not —
you’re still married
to the mask
even if you sleep alone.
