OF BIRTH AND RE BIRTH

The children were not created out of love. They would be born out of necessity. They would be born because of her selfishness. The thoughts resonated in her head as she turned off the lights and lay looking at the ceiling lit with the mellow light of the golden night lamp. The thought resonated in her head as she idly looked out at the busy street from the window of her bedroom. People were busy. They had some destination to reach, some work to do. She had neither.

She was not lovesick, but she was romantic. She found love in most things. She loved the birds, she loved black and white photographs, she loved a good cup of coffee with her friends and she loved walking- alone or with companions. She felt there had to be goodness in everything, and she found love in everything. She romanticized. He told her though, that life was not that simple. He told her that not all people were good and could be trusted at face value. Some people proceeded only with an ulterior motive. He tried to make her worldly wise. She had trusted him too and had inextricably intertwined her life with this practical person.

Why were the children being born? So that people would stop harassing her? So that people would stop doubting that she was infertile? A more pressing force was, she realized, it would make him stop mouthing all the blatant accusations, he uttered every time it was that time of the month which announced yet another failure for him. No. there was an even more strong force. It was her desire to live. There was no love in anything anymore. The surrounding was quiet as a graveyard, the weather was dry, the heat was scorching, and the friends were no longer there. The trust was betrayed. It had become a game of power play that she did not wish to be a part of. A purposeless life had driven her to end it. She had confessed it to him. He did not pay attention. She died. But somehow some power kept her alive. Some people had prayed, while others had ignored. The prayers proved stronger. People called it a miracle. He called her a selfish fool with erratic, unexplained behaviour. She died again. But this time no one saw. So no one came to save her. Yet in the rebirth of her body, she felt she had to live. She had to have someone for whom she could not afford to die.

And they had kept on making crude jokes. He kept on being frustrated. And then there was a solution. Tailor made, that would solve all the purpose. And the children were created with immaculate precision.

She felt a sudden surge of embarrassment. And here they are… haven’t seen the light of day, yet already fulfilling the selfish desire of the only person who is supposed to give them the perfect sanctum against the raging world outside.