From God, with Love

When your prayer is answered much before you could  imagine to pray....

I loved watching Liam Neeson's movie "The Grey" (and like typical Indian, I have the habit of giving the credit to the Actor, not to the Director). I learnt two things- first, you must fight. Second, the love of your life comes before your eyes in your last moments.

I questioned myself- what thing, which place, which person or what action will that be that I’d like to do as my final act. I slid the laptop back on the couch and closed my eyes, and instructed my mind to make a wish- what would you want in that last moment that will give you eternal peace. 

And without any second thought, this is what I saw-----

Snow white soft small palms stroking my face, innocent giggling in my ears, a supple smell of the skin and the warmth of love percolating my cheeks. Yes! it was my baby brother- the love of my life, my life actually.

I have never been a mother but am sure that the feeling won't be too different from what I have for him.

I was ten when he was born. I can't forget the day when my Aunt came home in the wee hours at home, and told me, "You have a baby brother". I couldn't imagine how suddenly I could have a brother, and that too when I hadn't ever met him. Grandma told me to distribute sweets in my school. I felt happy when everyone was congratulating me but it was somewhat difficult to be happy about something you knew you have, but you never saw.

The whole day I spent eating leftover sweets in school and waiting to go to hospital to see who he was. I had made plans. I'll share my pavilion bicycle seat with him and will let him ride only if I was sure he'd not let me fall. I'll also share my dolls but only if he promised that he wont lose her shoes (am wondering, was I, a lawyer since birth). And, I'd give him the 4 inch magnet that i found during school recess, as he was my brother.

I wore my new clothes and new shoes even though they were hurting my toes. Like a proud sister to be, I sat on Dad's Alfa scooter. I was holding Dad's hand and we went to maternity ward. Some villagers with shabby clothes were sitting on the floor, stuffing bread in crawling babies' mouths, while some others were running after the nurses in green sarees holding papers, asking details; the sweepers with the wet brooms, questioning and pushing off unwanted people out of the wards.

I peeped in all the wards on my left as we walked. There were inverted bottles with a transparent pipe attached, along almost all beds. Probably that was sugarcane juice, that the patient could have each time he/ she felt thirsty, I thought. We kept walking. I hadn't seen Dad so much happy as he was that day.

 Mom's ward was the last one in the array. As I entered, I saw six beds with six wooden cradles with all fat women on all beds. And, then I saw mom on bed no. 109. I ran towards her to show her my new dress. She smiled at me. I felt happy as she didnt ask me about my Maths homework, that means she was happy too. I looked at the black baby on her right. I couldn't believe- how could any baby be too small.

"Babu, here.  Not that one, this one is ours" called Dad, holding a small bundle of clothes. My jumped on mom's bed and sat there to see the much talked about 'brother' of mine. I couldn't feel anything when I saw his face. His face was too small to be recognised. His eyes were closed. Dad put his palm protecting his eyes from the light of the bulb. I saw tiny eyes without any eye lids opening up very slowly. Yes!! he looked at me with those micro starry twinkles, and I looked at him with a smile, and this was my brother! He was much smaller than I had imagined him to be.

I jumped from the bed out of joy. I offered him 2 sweets that I had saved. Mom laughed and said he only likes milk now. I gulped the sweets.   

I looked at him again. I saw his hands. Extremely tiny fingers and a white batch on his wrist-"Shukla-19 Nov". A similar batch, even mom was wearing.

While I looked back him. I had questions, from where he came and how come so suddenly he showed up. The only thing I knew that all babies come from hospitals.

The sardarni patient aunty next to mom smiled and said "kudi warga hi hai munda" (the boy looks like the daughter). I felt so proud. Like the elder and the responsible one. With his pink petal lips, he smiled at me, and in that moment of pleasure and thankfulness, God descended and said- this is my gift for you, my dear, for life. 

There I was, the motherly over protective sister. I looked at him again. Yes, he was my blood. My surname. My mate. My brother...