Short Story
The little girl was standing at the threshold of the room, unable to understand the fuss around the two babies in the cribs beside her mother’s bed in the hospital.
The little girl was standing at the threshold of the room, unable to understand the fuss around the two babies in the cribs beside her mother’s bed in the hospital.
Her
mamaji, was standing at the only
window in the room, deep in his thoughts and her mother was sobbing with occasional hiccups.
The little girl waited for her father to take them home so that she can have
hot, soft and fluffy rotis, her
mother was famous for. Today was their third day in the hospital and she was fed
up of cold food coming from mamaji’s
house.
Mamaji
turned from the window. ‘What’s taking him so long, he should have been here by
now?’
‘He
will not come,’ her mother replied. One of the babies squirmed, her mother mechanically
rocked the crib.
‘What nonsense is this? Children are a gift from God, how can he not acknowledge them! It has been two days and no one from his family has come to see the babies!’ He started towards the door and said, ‘I will go and call him from the reception again.’
Were they talking
about her father? He wasn’t like that! He will come to take them home. He loved
them. The little girl frowned.
Her
mother started to sob again. She had been crying off and on since her two baby
sisters were born. Sure they looked red and squiggly and cried for milk at
times, but looked cute when they yawned or opened their eyes. She had been
helping her mother for the past two days and had got a little attached to them.
‘He
says, he is not going to take you and the girls home.’ Her mamaji came thundering inside the room. ‘He will send Neha also and
wants a divorce!’ Saying so, he sat heavily on the only chair in the room with
his head in his hands. Her mother stopped weeping and looked listlessly outside
the window.
The
little girl stood frozen at his words. That’s
impossible! Her father was sending Neha here and would not be taking them home?
But why? Her little eyebrows furrowed, she looked at her mother and then
back at her mamaji.
‘Ma?’
She called out. Her mother continued to look outside without any change in
expression. ‘Ma!’ she repeated, pleading now.
Her
mamaji beckoned her and cuddled her
in his lap. Her mother looked at her and started to cry again.
‘Papa
will not do that, he will take us home. He loves Neha, ma and me.’ She reasoned
trying to comfort her mother. To her chagrin, instead of smiling and agreeing
with her, her mother burst into another inconsolable bout of crying. The eight
year old could not understand anything and started to cry herself.
****
Night
came and still her husband had not sent any word or message. Her brother and his
wife had left, consoling her with the promise to talk to her husband the next
day. But she knew nothing will come out of any discussion. Her husband and
mother-in-law would not allow her to step inside the house. She was carrying
twins. They had made very clear that if she gave birth to daughters again; she
would have no place in the house. Her mother-in-law’s astrologer had predicted
that there are only daughters in her chart and they wanted a son.
Dry eyed, she
looked at Naina, sleeping on the couch and fingered the phial under her pillow.
If she was not there, at least he would keep the daughters, even if he married
again. Her daughters will have a roof on their head and food in their bellies.
Will he take care of them if she was not there? Who will feed and bathe them? What
if they fell sick? Who will look after them? She wasn’t sure? She wasn’t sure
of anything these days? Was this the end? The final journey and her destiny. A
tear escaped from her eyes and got soaked in the pillow. She took the phial
out.
‘Ma?’
She came back to present with a jolt.
‘Ma…’
Naina was awake and stood beside the bed. Naina wiped the tears with her little
fingers and said, ‘Don’t worry ma, don’t cry. It’s alright. I will take care of
you all. I will never leave you.’
The
phial slipped from her fingers and crashed on the floor.
She
pulled her joy… her pride on the bed, hugged her hard and started to cry. This
time the tears were of hope and courage!
****
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