Ankita's Song

By Damien Basumatary

It was at noon, on January 10, 2002. Malika lies on her bed, with sweat and anxious feeling. "It's the fourth time I'm trying, and it shall be the last." She murmured to herself, as her mother holds her hand for comfort. She questions, "Ma, will I make it this time? Or am I simply incapable of making it happen? My husband has been expecting a baby boy- will his wish come true? I have never been so nervous about anything than this." Her mother provides reassurance with a smile, "Stay strong my girl, a child being born is what matters, whether it's a girl or a boy. It will always be your blood and so your responsibility in it's upbringing. Do not live to fulfill what people want or expect from you. Destiny makes the choice, and it's for the best- it's the will of the one who creates. We are not to discriminate a newborn based on societal bias."

"Mother is right!" Exclaims Sunita, Malika's younger sister. She adds, "You are 35, now stop blabbering like a teenager and stay put! The doctor will be here any moment, and so will the baby. Do not worry about what people will say. They say anything and everything anyway. My advice? All you have to do is divert your concentration elsewhere when they start talking. Listening to a bunch of useless gossip will only give you a very bad headache. I will take care of the child if you don't want to. I neither talk nonsense nor have time for such!"

Soon, the obstetrician arrives. "Doctor, is my sister doing okay? And how about the baby?" Sunita questions Dr. Sharma as she was monitoring the heartbeat and blood pressure of Malika. The doctor turns to her and says, "She is in normal 

condition. Do not worry. The child looks normal too, preparing to enter a new world, outside of the womb."

The doctor prepares for Malika's childbirth and keeps on monitoring the mother and the child who's about to be born. "It will be any moment now!" Exclaims Dr. Sharma with exhalation. She then reassures Malika, "Everything will be alright! This is your fourth time, you don't have to panic." Malika then replies her with series of statements, "No Dr. Sharma, I'm not worried about that. What I'm weary about is my inability of bearing a baby boy. I already had three girls. And my husband didn't seem to be satisfied with the results. What I'm wishing for is his wish coming true. He will look down on me if I fail this time again."

Dr Sharma takes a deep breath and exhales. She caresses Malika's face and responds, "My dear, I am not here to judge the will of the creator. The child who's about to be born has a purpose of life. Accept it, even if others won't. Decide for yourself. Girls are as capable as boys. Look at me, I am a Doctor, and I am not a man. They are not just tools for marriage and household work. The heaven shall bless her with everything she'll ever need, to be that one capable woman you'll be proud of. Do not be weary of the hate speech. Life is a gift from above. We cannot throw it into darkness just because it's going to be a woman when it grows."

There's silence in the room. None uttering a word. Malika, lost in her worries. Her Mother, trying to comfort her with 

series of active gestures, like massaging the palm of her hands, her legs and her feet, caressing her head and her face. The doctor, getting ready with her gloves on, observing Malika closely, looking for any vital signs. Sunita, looking outside the window and praying by herself for her sister's safety and the child's sucessful entry into the new world, "Father in heaven, the all- knowing, I beseech you, shower upon them, my sister and her child, your unending love and grace, that they can, with your light, pierce right through the darkness they may face. Amen."

"Behold, here comes the most awaited time, here comes the baby!" Exclaims Dr. Sharma, breaking their silence. She adds," Now Malika, listen to me and stay calm. It shouldn't be too difficult. I'll count to three and you push, okay?" Malika nods, as her fear and anxiety grows. "1... 2... 3... Push! Push Malika!" Instructs the doctor. Malika tries to push for several minutes, giving it all she could. Trying to catch her breath due to exaustion and tears flowing through the ears due to pain, she says "Oh, I feel tired." The doctor asks her to rest for a minute and she says, "On the count of three. 1... 2... 3... Push! Yes, I can see the baby, push! Push harder, Malika!" Several minutes passed and it went on for several more. And finally, at five past six in the evening, Malika felt a sense of relief when she heard the baby's first cry. There was a radiant smile on her face, despite the insecurities she kept locked in.

"Where is my wife?" Questions Mr. Satish to one of his servants. The maid politely responds with her head bowed down, "Madam and her sister are both upstairs, sir. They are 

expecting to see you." Mr. Satish hurriedly took the steps to go see the baby with his prideful attitude. He was happy for a moment, thinking, "Finally, I'll have a son... I'll have a son!" But as he reached for the door, he discovers something that he didn't wish for. He learns from his wife and sister's conversation that the child born was a girl. He got furious. He changed his mind. He turns around, hurried the steps back to his car, and drives to where he came from, a stripclub in town- a hangout place for a multitude of men- where his so- called best friend await the news about the newborn.

"My wife is but an uniquely useless woman!" States Mr. Satish to his friend, Bonny, as he takes a shot of tequila. Mr. Bonny who's already intoxicated, places his hand on Mr. Satish's shoulder and responds, "I already told you a thousand times, your wife cannot bear a boy. But you wanted to believe in her, didn't you?" Mr. Satish exhales his heated air and replies, "You know what? You're right! I should have listened to you. I must have gotten another wife after the third girl was born. I have been a fool believing in her. There's nobody now, to carry my legacy, or to look after all the land I own. I feel burdened, knowing that my daughters will be gone after few years, married to their loved ones."

Upon realising that the only man in the family will be him, Mr. Satish drinks more and more, in his inevitable agony. He drinks so much that he passes out in the bar; alcohol spilled all over the table where he laid his head to rest. He doesn't return home for the night. On the other hand, Malika rejoice over the birth of a beautiful and healthy baby girl. She names 

her Ankita, as she's born despite the society norms, and that she'd be marked by her Father and the neighbours, for being born a girl. She is happy that a new life is being gifted to her and at the same time, she is sad that Ankita won't be having an easy life.

The husband returns home in the morning, hungover from the previous night. He enters the room and abruptly yells at his wife, "So is this what you call a promise? Well you said, you'd give me a boy, who would then grow to be a strong man and take my place! What the hell do I do with this weak, inferior creature? All of my daughters will be married, one by one, turn by turn, following the same path! What do I expect from them- a handsome husband? I cannot risk my faith in them and expect them to be better than men! You, of all people, failed me to such an extent that I feel devastated! I feel betrayed!"

Malika stays quiet for a moment, tending to the baby and humming while she rocks the child softly in her arms. After a long pause, she lays the baby onto the bed, goes to her husband and talks in a gentle voice, "Darling, I know you are mad that I couldn't keep my promise to you. But then again, it's not upto us. Her birth has a purpose, and that's why she was born. Please do not look down on our daughter and abandon her. She is a gift from above, and it's our duty to take care of her, so that she grows up to be a strong capable woman, like any man would."

Mr. Satish doesn't respond, as he drowns in devastation of 

being unfortunate of a male child. He doesn't even look at the newborn. 

He doesn't want to talk to his wife. He is feels lost and invaded by intrusive thoughts as he leans by the bedside:

"Legacy breached out by the storm so strong

How boring, melancholic these songs are

That all life did was not right, feels so wrong

Denied of my wishes, my heart it scar

For nothing but a little man to grow

In my arms, love of mine I've got to show

I'd tell my son, which boat he mustn't row

I'd teach him the fruits of the seeds he sow

I'd give him the weapon to fight his foe

I'm sure, even the dark would flee his glow

This a dream I woke up from, hurts my toe

Words can't tell the misery I'm in though

Defeated and let down, feeling so low

Withering like the rock in time, you know?"

Few hours turn to days, and days to a week, Mr. Satish wouldn't say a word to his wife. He would rather go out by the sunrise to his friend, Bonny, and hangout at the bar, like they always do. As he was pouring an aged Scotch for themselves, Bonny interrupted, "So how are you holding up?" Mr. Satish didn't respond. He didn't realise his friend was talking due to his ongoing despair. He took few shots and went for work, while his friend stayed at the bar for a little longer. Bonny murmers to himself, "Satish, I will one day destroy you, and your family so much so that you wouldn't be able to forgive 

yourself. Then I shall watch you burn with these very eyes!"

Mr. Satish is the manager at SPDL (State Power Distribution Limited). His wife is the co-manager at the same. She is on leave because of her pregnancy. They used to work together, to make ends meet for the family. Bonny, on the other hand, doesn't work. He sticks on Mr. Smith like a parasite for his personal needs. He doesn't have a wife, or so- called responsibilities.

Day by day, the child grew older and older. At 10 months, her first word was, "da...da". She used to say 'dada' with a long stress in between. The father, despite unwelcoming at first, seemed to have grown a liking to her daughter. He would carry her around in his arms. And when the couple went off for work, Lily would take care of her. She was 11 by then. 

3 years passed in this endless cycle. It was then the time to admit Ankita to Kindergarten. Her Parents looked for best possible institution for their child, and got a seat for her. Ankita was dropped off for class by her Father daily, at 8 AM. And since both of her parents would be working, Sunita would pick her up when the classes got over. She would usually take her niece to the office where her parents were at. But most of the times, she would have to stay with her aunt because of the shift instability in her parents' jobs. And since Sunita was an Evangelist of the Church, she'd usually be free, except on Sundays and other Church programs.  Her aunt cared for her deeply, like her own daughter. Sunita would spoil her with sweets, dresses, food, fragrant flowers 

and her time, as she had plentiful in store for her niece. She bought everything her niece could possibly point at as a child. 

Ankita seemed happy as a child, as proud as an eagle flying high above the sky. Her Kindergarten years filled with mirth and joy. Playing around with fellow students. Dancing around like a butterfly. Talking about everything with her like a buzzing bee. Her radiance made everyone around her smile. People who got glimpses of her, used to say to her aunt, "Oh, look how cute little happy girl she is, like a lark singing of joyance. She will surely grow up to be one beautiful woman!"

By Damien Basumatary