So, she had no son. Dark chocolate appearance gosh! She had cleft lip palate! … … The full story is given below. This is one of the heart touching Nepalese story in the English language entitled ‘The Situation That Drips’. This story, of course, touches your heart.
The Situation That Drips!
“So, she had no son. Dark chocolate appearance gosh! She had cleft lip palate! How will she speak? How her employment will be without vocal clarity? Dark Future! “Will she got married who will take her hmm? Next blurted out, “Alas! It may be a sin you have done on previous time, Rosina. Now you are incarnated to bear this dead decay fruit?” She should have aborted that trash, child?
All relatives were blaring like a honk in the maternal ward, in front of bed number 64. Like bargaining for luscious apples in supermart! They were scrambling against mother hair as if they want to kill the lice of her pregnancy. That bed has no concern about the maternal pain of mother or shrill shriek of the baby.
She was sobbing. The new mother, she!
She iced! She was not even watching the parody of blaring relatives or her own baby who was willing to suck her maternal milky love of her own mother?
The weather was in her favor. The rain and her tears were so visibly palpable and so nourishing that it can touch any narcissist’s eye. Any clouds come in to surpass the raindrops but rain was unwilling to go from the envelope of the sky. That ink of rain was penning her fate on her dry land which was like a bridegroom.
She broke in like the added water as well. She had cheeks like a slate clean tiles of the hospital just wiped on and on.
Where is her mother in law? Her husband? Were they there smudging the path of their incoming child in their own home? Her thoughts cracked in through self-talk.
Bizarre! The world celebrates with balloons and sweet tooth tart like cupcakes of happiness when there is an entry of son with no any disability. But when there is an entry of daughter with any burns, people crease their lines of faces and started to add pepper in that pain. “That child that daughter whom I irrigated myself till nine months became sore for another’s eye? She was a pain for her lineage! But she was my pain why others are bothered?” she threaded her pipe of hope.
Rosina awake! Crammed relatives tried to brag their notion on her, consoled that give it a next try baby son. As she was still a fertile ground to cultivate more vegetables? She sighed. Throw that child Rosina! If can’t cave her in one room as she is nothing but solely a burden for you!
Was she starving of hunger getting advice from their relatives! And where are her one and an only better half and her mother in law? Her eyes latched on outside, wishing to see them. She laps her wailing child and struggled herself to pull the milk from the breast in a bowl and tried to spoon-fed her only child. Childlike Weatherly rain and child both peacefully collapse themselves into the lap of nourishing nature, bathing them on the green.
Relatives were scrolling new adjectives of tears from Rosina’s eye. But they failed. They couldn’t comprehend her silence and the way ease-off herself on the bed in front of them. They were amazed by her reaction. She no longer tears.
She groomed her child’s hair. She oiled her love with saliva and cherished her daughterly presence. She had had the pain of 9 hours of delivery of the child. She cannot mortgage that delivery time from others. She was that pearl of the oyster. So! Precious yet so Difficult. She seamlessly swam in her child’s cheeks planting a signature of the kiss. Yes, she is my beautiful child of stellar looks! She caresses her and slept in the milk of motherly affection. No dust of chaos unfortunate their bond.
Written by: Sunayana Kayastha