“I
am at the hospital, they want me to stay back. Will keep you posted” Read the
message on the screen of his phone.
For
the first time in his life, he had begun to panic; he could even hear his heart
beat as he booked himself into the first flight to Bombay. But it was hard not
to be excited; he was going to be a father.
Father,
the word sounded so alien, yet so familiar. Although he adored children, both
he and his wife had consciously chosen not to have any: they did not want any
distraction in their flourishing careers. But today, he realised why the world,
or most of it, wants children. He sometimes wondered how did he, the self-confessed
pragmatic; manage to turn into such an emotional fool. But then, love can make
you do anything.
Ria
and him were not supposed to fall in love. They were not even supposed to meet.
But a flight that they boarded together changed the course of their lives. Although
as different as chalk and cheese, they took an instant liking for each other;
it was hard to tell when the liking transformed into love. Or if it was love at
all, or just comfort – the comfort of sharing their roots. Their comfort was
evident that day too, in his bed; when he had made love to her all through the
afternoon, well into the night. It seemed as if they had always known—and loved—one
another. As they lay together afterwards, she had casually mentioned how he was
only the second man to have touched her; he could not say the same though.
A
few weeks later she had called to inform him of the baby, “let me keep it
please, I assure you, it will never be a hindrance to you” she had pleaded. It
took him no time to give in; he suddenly wanted to be a father too. True to her
word, Ria had never complained about being on her own. She managed everything,
from the morning sickness, to the check-ups and now she was alone in the labour
room struggling to birth their dream.
It
was raining when he landed in Bombay, the traffic and the rain had made a mess
of the roads and it took him almost two hours to reach the hospital. He paced
to the labour room only to be told that Ria had already been shifted into a
room, excitedly he ran towards the ward; he was just about to enter, when, from
the large window, he spotted Amit, sitting by Ria, holding the little girl in his
arms.
In
his excitement of becoming a father, he had completely forgotten about Amit,
Ria’s husband. Together they made a pretty picture – Ria, Amit and the baby – a
picture that had no space for an outsider like him. He hurriedly turned away
and walked home.
Anubhuti, I follow ur write ups through ur FB posts.R u a professional writer? The week, The Hindu. and other big names. How do u get time to travel with kids at home.Were u into it before or just started recently ? As a woman, I' m impressed I must say.
ReplyDeleteRgds and best wishes
Dear Anonymous,
DeleteFor a person still struggling to make her place, your appreciation is a huge motivation. Especially because I don't even know how many people read what I write.
To answer your question: No, I am not a professional writer yet, but intend to become one eventually. I have started writing only last year and as for my travels, I sometimes lug the kids along and sometimes leave them with family.
Keep reading and keep in touch, at times the only motivation a writer has is the knowledge that there are some people who like his/her work.
Cheers!
Cheers :)
Delete