Spinster Doctor / A story- 2nd part

I sat silently before the Doctor for a few minutes. A male cook brought the tea for both of us in an old style cups, bringing the memory of English people, subsequently the Anglo-indians.Though Auntie, an Angloindian in dress and maintaining etiquette, knows thoroughly the Indian roots and its culture. She lays far too much emphasis on 'life' and ' values', and too little on more and materialistic pursuits.
I in my low voice asked her 'Rose?' and took her hands in my hands, I could feel the rhythmic blood flow in her arteries and slow increase in her body heat. The skin very tender, nerves see extremely strong in her hands, and wondering, how many lives might have come to the earth through this hands of Gynecologist, that too through the hands of benevolence and blessing.
God selects some hands among billions of hands in the world to do some noble jobs, although many who are blessed so never realised the Power behind such nobleness.
I raised my face and looked at her face, which was looking down the earth, could feel the trembling and twitching of muscles in her face trying to stop the outburst of whimper.
She in her masked voice,although trying to conceal her emotions, said ' Devi, fifteen years passed since she left me'
I kept quiet looking at her, giving her time to recuperate and compose herself.
She started talking after a few minutes ' She became a Nun in a convent, looking after the orphans, I gave her love enough more than a mother could give, but she felt more alienated owing to her thinking that she had been left behind by her mother. She loved me more equally she moved away and became concerned about her mother's leaving her behind. And she developed the attitude of a mother to the orphans always ever since she was a child.'
Doctor continued' I wanted to make her a nurse which would have been more suitable for her nature towards the orphans and old alike, but she wanted and became a nun............. so.' she stopped awhile.
I looked down on the floor near her a few drops of tears turning into brown , may be the color of the floor showing the back ground of the floor or the love of tears becoming so ....... I don't know.
No wings of compassion can bring back Rose to the Doctor auntie, although I know Auntie expecting her any moment like a child expecting her mother.
I sat before her for a long time visualizing my friend in the robe of a nun, attending orphanage works and praying . That beautifully complexioned Rose , covered her body completely from her head to foot and showing only the face like a rose at the altar of God.
Here there is a child of 85 yrs old waiting for her mother to return.
Heart knows how to adjust to human emotions, now I could feel in her wrist heart rate is normal.
More than individuals heart knows how to adapt to a situation.When goes beyond , it s l o w s down................

Spinster Doctor / A story Part 1

When I walked in the road which I might have walked hundreds of times in my native town ,I stood stamped in front of a old building, no it is a bungalow with its portico .Once the same bungalow which my memory had gone back to the scenic beauty of the bungalow with its compound wall cleanly white-washed and the compound gate painted in green , though which always passers by could see the bungalow.
The trees both flowering and ornamental, shrubs,meadow with grass of alien variety and the carpet of colorful flowers of various hues like yellow,white,green, brown and combination of various colors blended by nature, which we could see when we passed by the street.I remember once when my father and I went by that street, I pulled my father's hand to stop and leaving his hand I ran towards the gate of the bungalow. I looked through the gate , gazing at the flowers, trees, fruits,like mango,jack fruit,coconut and other trees.
When an old man came near the gate and asked me ' child, who are you?"
I just blinked my eyes standing silently.
One small hand came from behind the old man with a red rose flower and I collected through the gate.That was the hand of a small girl with fair complexion who came forward and smiled at me.I smiled at her .
The bungalow had a name board Dr.Miss.Susan., Gynecologist, and the name of the hospital she was working.
Now again I am standing before the same bungalow .
No proper compound gate , but what remains as gate is opened and could any one walk through.No one manning the gate when I visited there when young.
I entered into the compound and dismayed to see the condition of the garden, no flowering trees or plants, only trees which stood there without being cared about.
I saw a calling bell switch but a plaster pasted on it showing it was not in use..I tapped the door............ silence continued .........again tapped , seeing no response ,I looked through the window which was opened, though that I could watch someone living there.
Again I called ' Is there anyone in ? Auntieeee ...are you there?'
After five minutes I could hear a rustling sound of someone coming to the door and unlocking from inside. I could see as though someone from the shadow walking out into the light .
My God ,' this is Doctor Aunt.'
She came closer and looked at me , I said ' Doctor aunt , I am Devi'
She moved inside to give way for me to move inside the house.We moved inside the hall with wooden furniture, she sat on one chair and showing me to sit on another chair nearby.
'Dr.do you remember me?'
She smiled at me .
'How are you Auntee?'
She looked at me patiently for a few minutes and moved to a closet and came back with a photo in black and white ......... that was the group photo of the final year of the school where Rose and me studied .
She had shown me where I stood in the row and near me that Rose , my close friend of school days till school final.
I know Rose was picked up by her in front of her Hospital left by someone , whom she adopted as a child and brought her up.
My memory started running like a horse backwards.
My mouth opened to ask the question where she was now.
But kept quiet, had she been there house would have been different , kept clean and the garden also.
Aunt sitting before me as a frozen painting of yesteryears .
What would have happened to Rose, my friend.

Tom and his fading sight / a story

An old man with white beard and sadness writ large all over the remaiining space of his face, sunken small eyes semi closed , hunched over his table, feverishly searching the papers scattered over his table and all over the room.
Many papers are letters either written by him or written to him, the swirling fan spreading further all the papers all over place as though all the pages torn from his daily life and years of his past life. Every paper has a meaning and mood and scene of his individual days. Sometimes these papers are like mirror reflecting his entire life as a painting in a single canvass. His face seems to suggest so. But still he is searching the papers as if trying to find out some thing more important than all the papers around him.
Still he is searching, sitting in his old wooden chair with handles to rest his hands, another chair next to him vacant.
'Tom ' a voice called.
Tom has not heard the voice or rather seemed not heard the voice.So concentrated he was in his papers.
' Tom ' again the voice called him.
' Tom , what happened to you ? what are you searching for?'
" Oh, nothing , nothing I am fine" Tom said.
' What are you searching ? his friend Susan asked, his only friend over decades.
" oh, sorry I am searching you , last night i lost you , so searching from last night to find you " Tom said.
" But Tom I am here in front of you . " I sat next to him in the vacant chair.
I could make out what did he mean when he said since last night he lost me. He has been suffering from progressive deterioration of his eye sight.
He knew many years before one day finally he might not be able to see.
I stood up held his hands and said ' I am here Tom"
I took his head in my bosom and held his head between my hands.
When i sat down i could see the eyes with out sight but filed with full tears.
In the tears I could see my face reflecting completely.

untold love / just passing cloud---- a story

I am in a beach alone unlike other times I came here , but the scenic painting of nature remains as usual with children of various age group, ladies ,men, old ,young and pairs of either loving or married .

I stood how long I don't know just seeing the waves coming towards the shore, some bring hopes and aspirations to some, some waves disappointments, some soothing the ruffled feelings, some calm down the emotional turbulence but waves do the nature's job ceaselessly to the shore and people..Animals like horses,dogs birds like mainly crow and other species either wander or fly about like human minds; do they also think like us or don't have any thinking like us. If so , are they liberated unlike us who bound down to Karmic wheel of sorrow and happiness.

Is there any change or is it possible to change the pace of Karmic wheel as we try to do everyday.? When helpless comes, how seriously or how concerned we are about ourselves. Why don't we accept as and when anything comes? Then why we take birth ........... is it only to suffer ? Well, if we know the fact as described by scholars and mythology alike, that life is an illusion , does it not prove that life is meaningless.

She came back to reality and started seeing people , one section with Pundits conducting the ritual of bringing peace to departed souls and after placing the cooked rice and other things on a banana leave , taking a dip in the sea and coming back to the shore with emotions writ large on the faces.

Seema also came for that ritual of giving the " Pindam" to the departed soul , one difference being she in no way related by any sense as known to the world .First she thought of the relationship she had with this man who passed away. He was a bachelor , name Sarath, hailed from a village, a journalist like her.

He neither behaves like any other journalist as if skulking on the ivory tower of knowledge not with a face with which they move with the society. He was a good man with manners , not showing any false mask to her.He was what to her --- she was thinking. , husband,lover, friend or what . He was not anything to her . They were both journalists, always talking on many issues including personal problems , but never talked anything of affection or love.

Am I loving him now? No , I don't...... or did I love him when we were friends, when he was alive. I am not clear..... never talked anything beyond the boundary of decency, neither of us went into the private domain of another.Did he love me in anyway?....... I could not make out neither he ever broached the subject of love .

Then why is it I am here to conduct the ritual when he passed away , when no one is interested to do this ?

Is is some unknown feeling or untold love which pushes me to do this.? Does his soul know this in this sea shore. We visited here so many times and talked. Is he here now looking, observing me , my thoughts ?

If he right now observes , is it that he becomes one with me - the observer becomes one with the one observed? Am I thinking in the right direction? Or he will misunderstand me now, spoiling the image of friendship. Why does not someone with true attachment , or whatever give this last rite to one departed among us.

I feel nothing wrong in doing this.Pandit or priest asked the star , name , my name and the relationship....... relationship I keep mum......... thinking I have not heard what he asked me, he asked me again , I said ' Friend' ........still under confusion , but he conducted the rite , uttering all the mantras and asked me to give it to crows and take a dip in the sea.

I am standing in the sea knee deep after taking the dip, I looked up , one shadow passing over my head , it is a big cloud.

Is that cloud him ....... is that face I see belongs to him or is that he?

The cloud moved away. I don't know how long I stood there.

I do remember once he told me " how can I see you if suddenly I pass away. no body knows."

When turned back people crowd had become thin .

But world is always with people , never crowd becomes less.

Love and affection are always remaining things in this world.

Rest are not permanent.

Wings

He is sleeping in his small boat with oars tied to the ground. Somehow he feels land is some place where he does not belong to, but a place to take rest and ruminate on the accumulation of memories he stored in life . He always feels he is safe in sea.

His boat is stationed always on one side of the river where the river meets the sea as if a lady meets her lover - this estuary is a place where he thinks he belongs to whenever he takes rest in his boat.Lonely boat with a man alone always, but talking to his lover. His lover is calm and gentle always flowing into the sea and the salty water takes her into his fold always , his memories fade into the emotional turbulence and calmness of the lover and the loved.

His lover is the river gentle and calm when he takes rest ,never demanding anything from him. But always blows gentle breeze in his direction making him comfortable. The coconut , neem and other trees are her friends besides many twiners,tendrils,shrubs,herbs and small insects are her children whose needs are taken care by her.And he is the lover .

The vast expanse of the sand and sand dunes are dear to him since he hardly sees humans as close as these creatures of God; does God visit them every day or He is always there whom he is not bale to feel and see.No although does not feel he talks to Him like the way he talks to his lover.

No interruptions in their talks.......... even while fishing he talks to her and she directs where to go and when to come back to shores. He is feeling so ....... may be so .

He comes to think of his friend, he alights from the boat starts walking looking at his lover , plunging his feet one by one into the sagging sand of this vast expanse.

Does this walking makes any strain to him............. no he never walks on streets or laid road..... no need he never goes into the town or the village . He does not have anyone to go and meet or talk to except his lover - the river which is here.

When walking he looks at the sky with the hot sun blazing down on earth but to him the sun is always cool .This is what one friend from abroad told him when he took him into the sea to show him how he works in the sea, his fishing.

The foreigner told him ' when you become a friend to the nature, nothing disturbs you since you in no way disturb the nature owing to your friendship'

The sun, the water,the sea, the sand dunes , the river the centipedes , millipedes,snakes....... nothing disturbs him , sometimes happen to see at him but walks away as if saying hello to a friend ,looks at him for sometime and says bye.

Now Peter, oh that is the name of the boatman, reaches near a hut; this is the hut of his friend for more than 50 or 60 yrs , he does not know exactly how many years. His friend name is Lawrance.

He is able to see Lawrance from a distance of ten feet , as a hunched figure sitting in front of his hut .

Lawrance waved his hand towards Peter.

Both are sitting before the hut and chatting something as if two speak the unknown language.Both understand each other by looks and gestures.

A voice from inside the hut said 'Lawrance, give him a cup of black tea' The voice belongs to Lawrance wife Margaret bedridden.

Both ignored as if hearing bird's sound from somewhere.This is routine and no one moves.Again calmness inside and outside the hut.

Peter stands up puts his left hand inside the worn- out coat and brings out a small cloth bundle contained coins and hands over to Lawrance. Peter saved this over a few days.

Lawrance is also equally old but not able to work. Totally a weak individual.

Friendliness continues ........ between Lawrance and Peter.

Peter waves his hand to the direction of Lawrance and starts walking looking at his lover flowing at a far off distance.

She is calm, gentle always flowing helping others always , she will live on but he....... is time bound.

She never dries up he knows........ well he is a friend of nature.......... he knows when he has to stop and where.

But he also follows her trait of helping without knowing the meaning of the word.

" Oh, she smiles at me " he says to himself and walks........................................

My mother and me / A story

Class attendance was taken and one by one said yes and when the name came to Babu Saraswathy teacher looked up to the place where babu usually sat and did not call again .She knew he could not come on time ,his mother was admitted in Government Hospital and he would be there attending his mother since no one there in his family to look after her .He and mother only and father passed away one day when he was pulling his cart with load and a speeding lorry hit him and he passed away in a pool of blood - whatever the quantity he had in his body.

Babu sitting in Hospital beside his mother and his mother's eyes looking at him passionately.Nurse brought gruel of rice to the patient asking babu whether he would manage giving it to mother.

"yes sister, I will give..but she is not able to take anything '

Don't worry Babu, try to give as much as possible, we are managing with infusion also'

'Sister, she is not able to talk to me'

She is weak Babu, you see, she will talk to you tomorrow'

'o.k.sister'

Mother showed her hand below her pillo and he knew she meant money to be taken by me to eat for lunch.I don't use the money for my lunch , I know I need money for her other needs , so I come back by evening after school and take the remnant of the rice gruel and I don't take anything else in school or anywhere .I manage with water from school and no one knew I am hungry in school.

I said to mother ' I am going to school'

Mother , I know cant speak since she is week.I could read her eyes , she is saying yes and again showing her fingers below her pillow.I knew what she conveyed ,but said no .I said I had enough to maintain.

I started running to school through the by lanes ,I know going through the main road would take more time , and by the time I reach would be lunch time.Despite my hungry I could run fast so I reached school by 11.30.

I stood out side the class room.Saraswthy teacher asked me to come in and called me near her and asked in whispering tone 'How is your mom'

'she is weak not able to speak.sister said she would talk to me tomorrow and they give treatment.'

Night where do you stay?'

' I lie down on the floor'

'food'

'My mom not able to take complete, I say I already taken,I would take the remnant of the food after she closed her eyes'

'Go and sit down Babu'

Interval came and when all the classmates went to open their food packets I went to a corner near a tree and sat down , started reading my lesions.I must study well so I will pass in three years time my school final , if possible by doing part time job I will study further.

I must help my mother , when she comes out of the hospital I will ask her not to go for work[ she goes for house work like cleaning the kitchen vessels and mopping the floor in three houses and comes back by evening 7 o' clock.She brings home the old and remnant food given by the owners of the house which my mom and I take .That is only only meal we take a day.If there is anything remaining she would give for me in the morning.Money is used for paying the rent to our hut and some essentials.

School bell ringing , now 4o'clock

If start running by the by lanes I could reach the hospital in one hour , for I have to run fast without stopping , no slowing down.

While running I saw a small shop where near the cash counter they keep many things in the jars, like toffes , pickles,lolly pops and salted and soaked amla fruits.I stopped running and went into the shop.

This amla he can give to mother so that she will take more gruel and can bit amla in between.Her mouth has become tasteless , she is very week.sure one day I will become someone and take care of my mother well.

Now I saw a temple, near the shop , very small roadside Vignesh temple.I stood there ..........I don't know how to pray.

I stood before Lord Vigneshwara and prayed as follows

My Vignesh ,I have a friend in your name in my class.

When he knows as a friend about me and my mom

You must also be knowing my mom

She is poor and I am poor

Pl help to raise up from the bed

Let her take rest

I will do part time while studying

Swami, sorry , I have to run.

i will come back.

Thanks.

Then he started running and reached Hospital , running inside the ward.

Bed number 101.

Bed is covered on four sides with screen......... must be giving some treatment

I neared the bed lifting the screen

Sister was closing my mother head to foot with a white sheet.

My mom..............

Mother / A Story

Rohini is pregnant a few months and could feel so. Is child birth going to be painful although pleasurable to know a newborn is going to come and live with us .The child is born out of my own blood and flesh. How wonderful is the feeling of having a child !! .It is a wonderful feeling and mystery to see one's own as a full entity going to be seen by me.I could feel something mysterious and immeasurable playing a role in every creation in this world and mother is the first previleged one to understand in her own limited capacity.
Something always immediate to us which we don't really comprehend all these years is rubbing us to make us perceive that 'something'.
No one neglects anything which he or judges to be good, except with the hope of gaining a greater one.
'Rohini' my husband called.
'Yes'
How do you feel?
'I am ok' although I know I am tired owing to general debility.
He came to me and hugged and kissed in the head,put his hand on my hip and rubbed my stomach and pressed my back and could understand his affection and love.
He was laying with me in bed for few minutes and said ' bye , I am going our office"
'ok'
Bye see you in the afternoon'
I could hear the sound of the door locked from outside the house , since I could not go and lock.The car was started and going away.I was laying in the bed thinking of the sequences happening since marriage and how expected this moment of child bearing and new arrival.Hmmm six years passed.
No kid came to share the family and make a fulfillment in our house.Only now............. Ravi feels happy , knowing he is going to get a son .
Six years of a marriage without a child is traumatic in anybody's life and disillusionment of reality wich if pursued would lead to untoward consequences.Human instinct is forced to survive owing to the circumstances one is in,and so in such a brief time,one in his or her feeble moment is inexplicably forced to give a go by the morals which we othewise normally accept.
But our awakened memory would disturb our mind for having taken certain steps for survival--which is the tragedy gnawing at our conscience.
I went out of the house to see whether the compound gate was closed by our maid; yes closed and on coming back my house voluntarily , however best I avoided,went to see the garage of our car where Mathew , our driver lived.
Having come to know I am pregnant , I asked my husband, for survival and maintaining the dignity and status, I said to my husband Ravi to send off the driver since we two know driving, why a driver separately.
What to do ........... life is with many hidden things burried down deep.......... and everyone is to survive.
Ravi said 'ok , I will fix him somewhere in the office, poor chap'
Now problem is I feel guilty and this guilty feeling is really killing me mentally.One option being terminating the pregnancy and continue living without remorse. If wanting to keep Ravi happy and the family as full entity,I have to beget the baby. Am I guilty of having the baby the way i selected?.
I dont know.
But Ravi's happiness is more important.......... What to do........terminating or seeing the face of the baby and living the family life of our own.Let Nature decide.Nature is the greatest living force .
Nature will not kill anyone I am sure

Venu and Seema / A Story

Seema enjoying the speeding bike and wind blowing on her face and hair flying as if she is acting in a movie, her pillion riding is comfortable clutching her husband thigh in the front and pressing her youthful front on his back.Venu seems pleased and happy and I know Venu is always happy when driving and I sitting and pressing against him.If my thoughts waver and naturally my grip becoming loose , he would remind me partly to caution me and partly to get reassured he is clutched with grip - a sort of enjoyment for him always.
He is proud of his wife's beauty, complexion and style although I know he is dark, big and bulky , may be this is the reason why he always feels happy going out with me in bike and if another couple stare at us, he is happy thinking we are a good pair a sort of reassurance for him.
Venu asked me ' Hey , what are you thinking' may be my grip is losing due to my thinking about my past when i was a student in a college.
Seema's mind was travelling back and forth back to college days forth to the present travelling.
When I was in college, like thousands of girls, I had also a dream of my would be prince .I had a vision of a young,tall,and better complexioned , if not like me , at least a complexion coming near my imagination.This dream was lingering in my mind till the fateful day when my mother happened to take away a letter from one of my books ........ that is a love letter .
My mother looked at me without asking a question , I was ready to answer.But everything misfired, she never asked , neither I felt like telling.
The tragedy is , that letter was written to my friend by her boy friend giving a proposal to her which in turn she gave to me asking me my idea.
Life is unpredictable , so at the particular day when my mum came for cleaning and arranging the books , that fell down and mother saw the letter.
From next day onwards marriage broker came and exchanged photos and horoscopes and one day my father called me.
'Seema , see the photo of this boy, name venu,engineer, good position, propertied'
I did not say anything , things gained speed and marriage was over .My prince in the dream slowly vanished from my memory like a water colour painting shown in the rain.Only wet paper remained like me.
Suddenly bike stopped.
'what happened' I asked
'Nothing, I will make it alight'
I happened to look around........ surprise the college I studied , opposite that our bike stopped.All girls in colourful dress with their colourful dreams walking with usual glee and chit chat.
I felt as if everyone is looking at us.No they are in their own world.
I am adjusting to my world.
Venu asked me ' Shall we go?'
Yeah' I said.
He is intense .
We are exploring every night each other he in me , and I in him.
I think life will go on like thousands and thousands of couple.
Love is the intensity of feeling at the same level by two people at the same time , where as marriage is a convenience adjusting each other.I am right or no , I dont know.
I am reminded of a poem read somewhere:
A wind that
Searched for life
Pushed me from behind
And escaped
Not showing its face.

We humans like dried leaves thrown around by the wind creating a graphic of its own and at one point of time we realise we cant do anything of our own except being the instruments in the hands of powers not known to us.
Somehow we will be fine while I am burying my dreams, going to him like a twiner around a pole and he burying in the cave.

Pangs of Hunger / A story

Old mat,old clothes,old bed sheet and old sarees - these are put together is the bed both for me and my mother.Mother makes money by stringing together the jasmine and other flowers of daily use by ladies and for worshiping Gods and Goddesses ,almost a full time job except what we cook in the corner of the room.

Food normally is rice gruel , tapioca boiled , if fish found to be cheap once in a while in a month.

A small house,tiled .One room where everything is kept .Our working ,cooking all get finished in the room One veranda outside where we both sit for sometime to cool ourselves.No electricity.We both know what poverty means and we fight against all odds to live a life.

Flowers kept in a basket partly tied in string of cotton by our own hands and the rest is kept for doing it early morning.Ladies who sell will come and get it who are employed by the flower shop owners from whom we get our wages every week.

My mother and I were sleeping together on that old mat and whenever I feel for her I put my hand on her stomach and sleep.It is raining today and lightening also .Sound of thunder made me wake up around 12 O' clock and my hands as usual seeking my mother by my side but could feel only the saree and other clothes .

As I have been instructed by mother never to raise the voice and always maintain calmness, I kept quiet for sometime.

I felt some whispering noise feebly and I thought may be, the neighbor's house TV being watched and that house is away from us around more than 1000 feet , typical houses outside the town limit with little garden and a bamboo and shrubs separating the next house from us.

Again lightning with thunders , I am a bit afraid. I have come out to see whether my mother has come out for using the toilet which away outside the house near the compound.

I could hear whispering sound and thought mother talking herself for not getting sleep.

When lightning struck I found mother laying on the mat and another one voice in the same whispering with giggles and moaning which I could not recognize.

I slowly opened the door of my room and kept ajar for sometime........

Next lightning came and in the flash of light I could see four legs on the mat twining.I am just 11 years old girl.

Before the next lightning came I closed the door without locking and came back to the bed clutching the old clothes.

I tried to sleep..........

Shadow / A small story

She could barely see and if at all as if looking though mist what is happening around her.She has not come out of the influence of the Anesthesia given to her for a Caesarian delivery of her baby and her mother said she delivered a boy child though premature.She was assured by her mother that baby would be aright, Doctors said so and everything was taken care of.

She goes back to the anesthetic influence like a trance , she walks with him , her lover , in the narrow path of the garden as if made for the lovers hand in hand trampling the flowers strewn around by the trees on the both sides of the path.Quite a dreamy atmosphere walking with one , who she liked and loved and his fingers gripping her fingers and she felt secure in his fingers , as her future would be safe with him . He was tall,intelligent,smiling fit to the profession doing his Post graduation in Pediatrics.

Now when opened her eyes slowly with the post operative tiredness and anesthetic state, she could see her babe in the next room in an incubator and she could see the babe , her mother said a boy,through the glass separation .

Her mother is happy to look at , the exuberance shows she is a proud grand mother and she is smiling down at her daughter.

'How is the boy?'

'Doctors say fine , one young doc taking care of the baby "

'Oh , did you talk to the doc?'

'No, he smiled and I feel confident he is a good doc'

After drinking a glass of some hot drink, she slipped back into sleep .Her lover's fingers are soft and sweet to feel the memory even now. How wonderful those days , meeting , walking , the feeling of elation.Like all lovers we moved our fingers on each other showing our affection . His fingers touching my chin, nose and my lips.....hmm what a feeling it was !! The college campus was full of students in their white coats,some just carrying as if walking a kid, some putting folded on one side of the shoulder , some carrying cleanly folded and hung either left or right hand.

When she came back to consciousness she could see a Doctor attending her babe through the glass separation , baby in the incubator.Nurse said ' He is a good neonatalogist , very good doc"

She could see the back of the doctor attending the baby,but fingers of the doctor even from the distance a bit familiar, her feelings?......... or really so.

Mother was standing before the Doc , just watching as an observer.She came back and said 'Doctor says baby can be taken home in a few days"

Two days passed , and she could move around and went to see the boy in the incubator. While looking down the face, fingers,and the eyes, she was thrilled as a mother and some feeling inexplicable happening inside her .Oh this is called the love of mother , she thought.

Rustling of soft sponge shoes and Nurses made her to stand aside Doctor came with juniors and trainees.One trainee carrying the clinical report and showing the Doc and he was seeing all the parameters recorded in the report. Form behind my mother , I was watching closely .Doctor was seeing the babe touching with his fingers and talked to the juniors. Without turning around to see us he asked 'Who is the mother of this babe?'

I went to the front from behind my mother and he turned around to see me face to face.......

Oh My God!!!! this is him , my former lover, now neonatalogist .A flash came to his face which I have seen thousand times, now I standing dazed. He maintained his composure and said 'Baby is alright you can take him home tomorrow and a Paediatrician's name will be given to you , You can have your consultation with him for your baby. ok.' He passed quickly with his fellow juniors.

When I went back in the memory lane , how circumstances made around me got me married to another one and now in hospital for delivery.

My mother said 'What a good Doctor, how careful he was while taking care of the baby'

Yes' I said.My mother stood perplexed looking at my face.

Is my son resembling him in any way , face, fingers,.......... or my sedatives play a haphazard role in my thinking pattern.

Does mind instigate genetic mutation or simple genetics is purely a medical science?

Genetics is a proof of Medical Science but mind..............?

Hereditary Property - A Story

She is sitting in the Verandah of the Government Hospital ,discharged a few hours ago ,with a baby of three days old, for she was admitted herself in that Hospital one week back.The baby was kept in an old saree of her ,only tiny hands and legs were visible.She looked at the face of the child ,he opened the eyes and the lips , while looking at , seemed like smiling at her.She got courage from the new born face.The sort of courage she got seemed to have come to her owing to being a mother.Motherhood gives courage indescribable to any mother although many a time such young mothers when came into Hospital for delivery are afraid , especially the mother of her category.No one to look after her.

She looked again the face of the child which has no resemblance of her face, may be so because the child is a boy.

She did not have the strength of going out , could not shout and call an Auto-rikcha.

She looked around and saw an Aayah, who is scavenger in the Hospital whose face became familiar to her during this one week, was coming in her direction.

She called her 'Amma, could you do me a help?'

'What?' the scavenger asked in return.

'Would you please call an Auto for me , so that I can go home'

The scavenger knew no body came with her while admitting her in Hospital and she was alone and now sitting alone with the baby.She out of her experience could perceive what kind of pregnancy this must be , if no male comes , she knows what is the status of the baby.She felt something churning inside her since she is also a woman who certainly knows what would be plight of this girls .

Without answering she went out and brought an Auto.

When helping her go to the Auto , the lady carried the cloth bag containing some old clothes and a flask.Then she said to the Auto driver ' please be careful son,she is new mother, weak, take care while travelling and drop her in her house'

'Don't worry mother , I will take care the sister and drop her wherever she goes'

Then the scavenger started murmuring something partly heard partly unheard ' When these kind of things will stop, one is suffering and one responsible for this never bothers even to come to the hospital.......... when this all stop......... poor ladies.... no one in home .' and went back into the Hospital.

Auto driver turned back and asked 'Sister, where you want to go ?'

On hearing the place she wanted to go , he started driving and simultaneously talking to her .

All the way he was talking facing the road and she could hear only the voice.

' Sister, don't worry , I was also born like this in a Government Hospital 20 years back and my mother brought me up. Now I am an auto driver before you.I understand the plight of your mind and what you think about.. My mother was working I heard her say, in a big bungalow and she was a helper and cleaner in the house.Even I know my father who he is.But I dont have the right of any, since my mother accepted him owing to her age at that time.And you know I am the end result now as an Auto driver.You must know I am fortunate that my mother did not decide to end my life then , so I am a bastard now. It is ok sister, this is my fate..

One funny think , I may be wrong to say this to you , although I know right now 90% what is your status now, well funny thing is , my father , that big fellow with all the riches,came to see my mother in the hospital and inserted a ten rupee note under the pillow of my mother and walked away. That was the last time she had seen him , she worked in various houses and brought me up...........'

While he is talking I looked at the baby , trying to find any resemblance of the Watchman of the house she is employed 'Dhamu'......... may be, but will be visible only when this boy grows up.Again I started concentrating on the talk of the Auto driver.

'Sister , that thankless fellow, my father you know is a big land lord , despite that he did not help my mother financially ever.Very hard ways we lived, she is a tireless worker , still working in houses, cleaning the vessels, house etc . My income by driving this Auto is not enough since I drive this Auto , not my own'

Meanwhile while listening the story , my mind went to compare myself with the mother of this Auto driver.

' His hereditary property is ten rupees , may be not even that for me, Dhamu is living with his wife and children, already poor. So I must start working as soon as possible to work . I must tell my fellow girls to find some job, house job of cleaning etc, so I can take the baby along with me to my working place and make him grow into a youth.Somehow motherhood gives courage to fight against.I dont know, but I think it is natural for all women.'

My hereditary property is poverty , Auto driver's is ten rupees, for my son not even ten rupees.

FACES / A STORY

Many faces we come across in every day's life and never give thought to how they live or what they do, this is one of those faces which if followed would reveal the realities behind this kind of face.Her name is Meenakshi.
The place where she lives is near a Railway station where only passenger trains stop a few minutes and proceed , but two parallel of railway tracks one near the platform , another on the offside , beyond that track lives hundreds of families live in huts, hovels and hut-like structures only nights. Rest of the time is platform and train . Just begging in the running trains between the stations and come back to the station , nearby their huts are.
Meenakshi has one saari, which she uses so deftly to prevent the ogling eyes, night as a cover from the cold and giving warmth to her two kids; she has seven kids, five of them gone somewhere , where she does not know , but happy at least they will be eating and living somewhere, these two kids are too young , and a husband Ayyaavoo, who is a leper with only stubs as fingers.
Morning sun slowly spreading the rays equally to one and all without discrimination, and the clock of this shanties is one Pappan, who is an handicap , blind but good at singing; once he starts rehearsal means , next train is about to arrive at the platform within few minutes.Hundreds of beggars, both handicapped and able bodied living there, getting ready for their daily chore that is begging.Among them are some dancing girls, who are comparatively 'richer' since night time they are busy......... but kind enough to help others in times when someone ill and not able to go for begging.
Meenakshi's life is like parallel tracks , she knows, one is happiness another one is lifeless living never meeting each other.
Meenakshi starts getting ready, getting ready means sprinkling water and tidying the hair, take a few drops of oil from the lamp ,rubbing between the palms and apply on her face and hands; that is all , she is ready now for begging. She has seen both her young kids sleeping since the time is early morning.One end of the hut she as seen her husband slightly shaking his head and hands.......Oh, he has got up and shouting her to give something to eat. She has gone inside and brought a pot containing the last night's gruel, into which he dipped his stubs [fingers] to find out , whether any rice remaining. She has gone near him and put the pot near his mouth making him drink whatever remained yesterday.
Suddenly he spat the entire gruel on her face , castigating with all words not deserved to be written.
Meenakshi washed her face and swabbed her face with the end of her saari, started to run to catch the train for begging.
Sun is coming up to see her running towards the station.