Musings on a Super Saturday

Anuradha comes in exclaiming about the super Saturday she spent with her daughter. Why does everything about you have to be super? I ask annoyed at her obvious glee. It is what it is , is her cheeky reply.

Anu loves going out with her daughter.She tells me often about the rare soul connect, they share. I change the topic to something more general.It’s not something I like to listen to, mothers raving about their children. Their children, as if the child is a personal achievement, not an individual, a showcase, a trophy.

After 4 unsuccessful attempts at birthing a child,my tolerance of mothers’ paeans to their children, has worn out. You how it is, every tom and jerry in town who does not know me is very concerned about my childless state and is willing to dole out advises aplenty. From offering of a cradle to Lord Krishna, to feeding orphans, to visiting a litany of holy places and holy men…the list is endless.

For the past 6 years,me and my partner in crime have practiced almost every trick in the book and consulted every  known specialist to no avail. It was especially painful when the first time, I gave birth to a still born in my 9th month. Answering phone calls and  listening to woes of a greater intensity  was all that I did until we finally decided to keep the ‘good news’ to ourselves.

There after the struggle has been there but it somehow brought me and my spouse closer. Today we accept the situation. In fact, he has suggested adopting a child. I have agreed too.

Maybe now, I will have more patience to listen to Anu’s stories….


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