Khushi:My Girl Unborn – Social Short Story
Photo credit: clarita from morguefile.com
“Ish… Have you watched the smile on her face” – I asked with my eyes fixed on the recesses beyond the window?
“Hmm….”-Smita replied.
My better-half usually gives me the silent treatment whenever I talk about a girl child. She is a proud mother of two male kids.
“Your wife is truly Sita of Ramayana, who is blessed with two such brilliant sons” – I get such accolades often.
My wife stares at the little girls bicycling down the street clad in frocks. She tries to keep her face grave without expression as she watches the little angels.
“Look, that one must be the daughter of our Ganesh babu-the daughter of the head clerk in our office”- I point to one girl as she disappears out my sight.
In the afternoon, we sip tea sitting near the window. In the course of time, we have become accustomed to catch the sights of little cute girls bicycling and playing on the street. Smita manages to put her emotions on hold as she watches them in stony silence.
“Are not the clouds in the azure sky fluffy and beautiful today” – I ask deliberately to distract her?
“Sky must have the fairies and their magnificent wings” – She turns around to face me.
I watch the pent-up grief, surfacing from the bottom of her heart. Her face gets puckered as she begins weeping with a loud sob.
Years ago, while we walked down the aisle, she closed her eyes in blithe satisfaction as the marriage was consummated. She shoved her head in my bosom and then smiled in shame.
“This is our first union. We will name her Khushi. Our daughter will mark our happiness” – Smita whispered in my ear.
“Who? Ha… ha… ha…” -I roared in laughter like a king.
After three months of our marriage, she was found carrying. While our mother accompanied both of us for the ultrasound, Smita’s smile was the first sign of confirmation.
“She has come-your daughter and our Khusi” – She spoke softly as she snuggled up to me.
“Why do you know? It’s illegal to determine sex” – I queried?
“Touch wood…. Touch wood, my heart says so” – She spoke out as my mother turned towards us to cast a glance.
“Give a thousand bucks to the assistant of the doctor. He will tell you about the sex of the child” – My mother said, straightening up.
“No” – I said.
“Give it. Otherwise I will go and grease his palm” – My mother firmed up her voice.
My mother rose from her seat. She went and whispered something in the ear of the assistant. The assistant grinned as my mother offered him few hundred rupee notes. He stood up from his chair and disappeared in the doctor’s cabin.
My mother came back after half an hour. Her eyes saddened and face paled by a shadow of unhappiness, she looked in my eyes.
“It’s a girl” – She collapsed in the chair.
“I thought Lord Krishna would appear as my grandchild. I thought, it will be a boy. He will be the apple of my eye” -My mother’s voice was trembling.
“A daughter and you pay hundreds of thousands of rupees for her education. Then you pay one million for her dowries in the wedding. The law then compels you to give half of your property as she would stand as a legal heir with equal right. All these are the wastes…. Only sheer waste” – My mother threw up her hands in despair.
A month later, I lost my job. My company was tottering on the brink of a financial disaster. My parents nearly stopped speaking to me. In the hours of despair of searching for a livelihood, I took the decision to abort the female child of my wife.
It took almost one year to find out another job. I gained a job, promotion and two sons but lost Khusi for good.
My wife denies showing off her pent-up anguish and keeps donning the expression of sadness on her face.
I wish, Khusi is born in a different family and she must be crooning in the lap of a better father.
