Meghna Pant on new book Boys Don’t Cry: ‘Women are not rehabilitation centers for men’

Author Meghna Pant’s new novel Boys Don’t Cry is no regular read. Born of her own experiences, it’s a graphic, distressing account of what an abusive marriage can do to you.

It is not an easy read. As I was leafing through its pages, it triggered trauma that I’d carefully, painstakingly buried deep within me. Trauma that I thought I’d summited. Trauma that I believed was now history. But that’s the thing with trauma. It is never past us.

Irish writer, theologian, and philosopher Peter Rollins, in  an episode  with The Minimalists, talks in detail about desire and trauma. He says, “Trauma is the idea that the past is never past. Trauma, in essence, is what you never forget. Or you try to forget it but you remember it in your body. Trauma steps out of time. When you have trauma, it jumps out of temporality and stays just as young and nasty as ever.”

That’s why, trauma, even if experienced decades ago, or as a child, stays as fresh as yesterday, continues to resurface and haunt in ways unexpected. It shapes who we become, guides the choices we make. That’s why despite it being 14 years since it all happened with her, Pant is still able to recount it with such immediacy, urgency.

A story of domestic violence, emotional and financial abuse, gross neglect, and the insidious ways in which patriarchy works to break a woman, this one’s a must-read. Here, Pant discusses the book, the courage and time it took her to write it, the mistakes not to make when choosing a life partner, divorce, what helped her heal, and the novel’s upcoming film adaptation.

Why the title Boys Don’t Cry?

Boys are taught very early in life what it means to be men. Their primary caregivers, caretakers, and peers shape this attitude. If a boy wears pink, plays with dolls, or wants to become a kathak dancer, we tell him that it’s wrong. We tell boys that they cannot be vulnerable, or fearful, or––God forbid––sensitive. They cannot cry. We do a great disservice to boys if at homes, classrooms, and playgrounds we develop their notions of what it means to be a man in such a narrow way. As Nigerian novelist Adichie says, “Masculinity is a hard, small cage, and we put boys inside this cage.”

When we stifle the humanity of boys, we raise them to be inhumane men. Abusive men. That’s what has inspired the title of the book. We have to pay careful attention to the gender roles being prescribed to boys, as we are to girls. As Gloria Steinem said, “It’s not about biology but consciousness.”

Since a lot of it is autobiographical, writing this book must have been anything but easy. What was the most difficult about writing Boys Don’t Cry?

Anyone who follows my work knows that I write fast and furiously. But it was different with Boys Don’t Cry. It was the story of 15 years of my life. A story that took eight years for me to gather the courage to write. Because I would often break down while writing it. Because I knew that somehow I had to finish it, for women everywhere, for the 200 million abused women in our country alone.

Therefore, the most difficult task with Boys Don’t Cry was completing it. It is more than a book to me. It’s a true story with a clincher of an ending that every woman deserves. It’s a rule book that guides girls on matters of heart and head. It’s a peek into the closed doors of a modern Indian marriage, of the kind of husband no man should become. It’s a beacon to acknowledge your illness and seek help, and not drag an innocent partner into your dark world. It’s a conversation on mental health that every family should have.

Where do you think one should draw the line in a relationship? What are your major red flags?

If a guy hits you once, diminishes you once, makes you feel small about yourself, even once, it is a major red flag. Don’t make excuses for someone treating you badly. Don’t second-guess your gut feeling. Trust your instinct. Remember, women are not rehabilitation centers for men. I know because I was one for seven years.

I finally left my abuser the night I launched my novel One & A Half Wife in Dubai in 2012. I had got my periods and he didn’t let me access my sanitary pads that were in his room. I could no longer deny that he was a barbarian. This was a small incident in the history of many incidents, but that clarity, which had been many years in the making, finally came to me. It was as if a veil had been lifted. I could no longer lie to myself.

I had known for a long time that he didn’t treat me right, but I finally realized that he would never treat me right. The abuse and mistreatment would continue until he had totally ruined me. After years of confusion and break-ups, and reconciliation with my abuser, I left him. It wasn’t easy. I faced new problems and many issues. But none of them matched up to the abuse I had faced with him. He had made me strong enough to deal with anything that life threw my way. I was truly, as David Guetta would say, bulletproof. I was titanium. You are too.

Do you think there is a way to find out if one’s making the wrong choice when choosing a partner?

Yes, if you remember that people will love you the way you think you deserve to be loved. In the India that I grew up in, women were taught to be givers. Because of that, we let men take too much from us. Even in matters of abuse. When a man hits a woman, he wounds her physiologically, psychologically, and emotionally.

What happened when the man I loved hit me? All my dignity, respect, and self-worth went away. It didn’t matter how educated, independent, or successful I was, how many friends I had, or how close I was to my family. I started feeling like there was something fundamentally wrong with me. Why else would a man hit me?

You see, he told me that I deserved to be hit. That I’d asked for it, like a rape victim. I felt helpless. I started getting nightmares of being murdered. He told me I didn’t deserve to be loved, that I was a terrible person, dumb, useless, not worthy of happiness, and could do nothing right. I started believing the things he said about me. I stopped laughing. I started crying. For months, I cried. I’d walk on the streets, weeping. I’d weep in front of strangers. My friends told me I looked miserable. I was. I’d gone from being a happy person to a terribly sad one. I didn’t even want to live anymore. No person, especially a man, deserves to do that to you. So, when choosing a partner, be careful whom you pour yourself into. Always seek the love you deserve.

One of the major reasons why Maneka continues to stay married is her fear of divorce and the social stigma attached to it. Do you think things have changed in the last 10 years?

It was when I began to sleep with a knife under my pillow that I finally acknowledged that I was living with an abuser. This was 14 years ago, when the man I loved, the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, was abusing me––physically, emotionally, and financially. One of the reasons I was in denial was because I didn’t think I “deserved” to get divorced. It was a stigma back then.

Though divorce no longer has the stigma it used to, it still has the sting. But, sadly, abuse hasn’t changed. It is still prevalent everywhere. It is still considered taboo. It is still treated as a private matter, something that society assumes a wide distance from. That’s why most people today, despite our awareness, exposure, and conversations, don’t even know what constitutes abuse. How can we speak of change when we refuse to be the change we want to see in this world?

Maneka’s education and financial independence helped her stay put even when she was at her lowest. But what can women, who are not monetarily independent, do to get out of an abusive marriage?

No matter what, you must speak about this to someone you trust. I didn’t tell my family or friends about my abuse out of a misplaced sense of loyalty. I knew what they would say and I knew I wouldn’t like it. Despite everything, I didn’t want them to hate the man I loved. Yes, I still loved him. Call it naivety, hope, stupidity, but I did. I was convinced that I was not in an abusive relationship. Why? Because he told me so.

He told me violence sent women to hospitals. Was I ever sent to the hospital? No. He told me abuse led to bruises and broken bones. Did I have any of that? No. I believed him because I wanted to. A part of me held on to this misplaced notion that he would see my love and change, that he would stop hurting me, that my love was stronger than our pain.

My love came with blinders. Don’t do that to yourself. Learn from my mistakes. Whatever you do, get the opinion and help of someone outside your situation. They will lead you to your truth. The truth will set you free.

One thing you wish you knew when you were getting married?

When you marry a man, you marry his family. So if you date someone, don’t forget to date their family. Take your time. Only then will you know exactly what you’re getting into. Be smart.

What I really like about Boys Don’t Cry is how descriptive some of the chapters are. You’ve detailed not just the actions but the psyche behind gender-based violence. It will help readers identify abuse and make better sense of words like gaslighting. Was this a conscious choice?     

Absolutely. Humans are visceral creatures. The way to talk about abuse is to show people how it works, not to tell them how it works.

The end of the book is quite abrupt. I wanted to know more.

Let me help you there. Utopia has two meanings. One is the good place and the other is the place that cannot be. I had no reason to believe in romantic love since I’d never been handed a fairy tale. Then, in 2015, I met my future husband. He is the kindest, sanest, and most sensitive man who broke through my wall of hurt and cynicism with generosity and tenderness. I’ve spent years of beauty, love, and wonder with him. Today, we have two beautiful baby girls. Today, I’m in a healthy and happy relationship with a man who believes in me, values me, and respects me. I went from being with a man who hated even the best in me, to a man who loves even the worst in me. That’s utopia. When love finds you in the way that you truly deserve.

What helped you heal, crawl out of the dark hole?

Writing did. I found my calling as a writer when I was being abused. Writing helped me put distance with my reality while immersing me in life’s reality. It helped me cope with a wound that just wouldn’t heal while healing the wound. In the time I was with my abuser, I wrote one novel One & A Half Wife, and a short story collection Happy Birthday, both of which went on to be published and receive critical acclaim, even winning awards.

When I moved back to India, I continued writing. I published more books. I hosted my own shows. I became a public speaker. I began taking up the cause for abused women in my country. Two years after I left him, I was happy again. Leaving my abuser turned out to be the best decision I ever took in my life. And now, 10 years after I left him, I finally published a novel about my abuse, which instantly hit the bestseller list and is being made into a movie. It’s taught me that there is always beauty in tragedy. That’s healing.

When not reading books or watching films, Sneha Bengani writes about them. She tweets at @benganiwrites.