Nine months of care, love, affection, stressful hours on bed all comes down to this very day, this very minute crunching teeth, tightly held fist, face turning more and more red, screaming and shouting due to contraction, how you wish you could just get rid of it. Oh god! How peaceful it was a year ago, when you agreed to spend the rest of your life with your man, your love, passion, comfort, and of course your alter ego. Then the night of intimacy, the time of your life you adore the most, even the tiniest of those memories chills your spine, widens your eyes and your heart starts to beat as if you are lost!
It was moments of inexplicable happiness for you, but an actual fight for life, inside you. Millions rush in, to pave their way and win. It’s a race, most important of them all; they live if they have the fastest pace, inching forward beating the rest, sliding past every nook and corner to get to be the best.
After the fight for survival, hardly a couple gets in safely dislodge themselves and wait for a while, it’s been a tiring journey, swimming for a mile.
Then the process starts, growing, separating, squashing, and breaking. Unknown to the poor little you, as you wake up tired and pretend to be ready for cooking!
Then a trimester passes, your womb becomes a size of a lemon, there’s an inevitable smile in your face every time you touch it, although you are tired, weak and nauseated, you’ll never regret it.
Subsequently things turn complicated, back pain, heart burn, edema and varicose vain, unstoppable mood swings to worsen the situation. Never have you felt this before, and nothing you can do except maybe fast forward to imagine the elation.
Irregular female cycle, irresistible cravings for food, intermittent contractions, irreconcilable differences hours of fears and moments of tears, life’s just not how you imagined it to be.
Then second trimester goes on, you put on weight, be super energetic and the morning sickness slowly fades away.
Wearing those maternity clothes and feeling the movement of fetus, there’s this slight but sturdy feeling of being a “mother”, a dream that you’ve have been having since your childhood, the thought makes you smile so much though your hands are stiffly holding your lower back and you begin to cry.
Then the final few months, contractions increase multiple folds, so does your weight. You feel you are ready, at the same time feel to give up, a dilemma that exists for long, of course not many understand you, pleading you to shut up!
Life slowly starting to become meaningful and you hold hopes tight on to your back, making you into a shape of a question mark, body full of questions and time with answers.
Finally, the moment, just pain, screaming and crying. Just want to end it soon. Now there you lie, hospital bed holding hands with your soul mate, every second seeming like an hour, tolerance decreasing.
Suddenly, it’s done, the pain, breath in air like you’ve never before. You could listen now to the baby’s cry, tears of love. The only time you’ll be happy when she cries, oh! you always wanted a girl too. They give you, you touch, feel all the nine months of life that grew inside you is in your hands, still crying. You smile, with all your heart that faced nothing but pain when you decided boldly to run away with a Muslim. Religion difference didn’t stop you from giving a new life to the world, you knew, it never will. The baby has no religion. Yet.
Pure soul of tender palms and quiet mind. It has no differences, cry in the hands of a white or black. It’ll listen to anyone, go towards people it loves, truly and not based on their gender, caste, color. It knows nothing of the outside world and maybe that’s why it cries, surrounded my comfort and ignorance within you, it now must learn to love with differences. Partial, biased life. It doesn’t even know its rights in some country are worse than the other gender, it doesn’t even know what gender means. Knows nothing, may be that’s the key to happiness, sometimes better to know nothing and live from within, not following the crowd, go on your own. Alone, feeling empty, sitting on the park-benches thinking on your own, sometimes is fine. Well just don’t stay after 7PM, it is not fine then, unfortunately.