Whispers Of The Wombs!

By Sonia Arora

As I lay in the delivery room, clutching my mother’s hand amid unbearable labour pain, anger welled up within me. She had never prepared me for this—never told me just how excruciating it would be to go through this pain. I noticed the unspoken guilt in her eyes, her helplessness stemming from a struggle to articulate something she herself had faced. "If I told you how painful it is, you’d have been frightened," she whispered softly in those vulnerable moments.

My life, at that point, had collided with two enormous forces—motherhood and a turbulent work situation, leading me to give up a newly found career overseas. 

This chapter dwells on the challenging choices women face between professional ambitions and personal responsibilities, viewed through the lens of motherhood. It reflects on how a prolonged career break shifted my perspective on life’s choices from black and white to a more nuanced understanding.

A Homecoming, blessed by Lakshmi and Saraswati! 

They say it takes a village to raise a child, but it also takes generations to truly understand the whispers of the womb.

Back in the year 2005- my just-born daughter had an aha, goddess-like moment when she was welcomed home by Lakshmi and Saraswati, both showering her with their love and blessings.

As I stepped into the house with her in my arms, a soft chime filled the air. At the door stood Lakshmi, her wrinkled face beaming with joy as she rang a small bell, performing the aarti (a Hindu ritual). Beside her stood Saraswati, her hands holding a tray, radiating the warmth of a million shared cups of tea. Their brimming eyes brightened the dimly lit room, which was filled with the scent of ancient memories contained within the worn-out walls and faces

Vastly different yet bound by blood; together, Lakshmi and Saraswati created a sense of timelessness in that moment. 

The irony is that I understood the depth of this moment much later in life.

Conflict & Contrast: Through The Decades

In year 1982, as the excitement of the Asian Games electrified city New Delhi, I also saw how it amplified the energy at Saraswati’s bustling home during Lakshmi’s frequent visits.

With an aura that commanded attention, she would arrive with her luggage filled with food items and, most notably, money that seemed to flow effortlessly to her, exuding an air of importance. Saraswati’s four lively children ran wild, their father joining in the playful chaos. Lakshmi’s presence infused the house with undeniable energy—and even a touch of disorder—as the children eagerly awaited the treasures hidden in her many bags.

But beneath the joy, I observed an unspoken dynamic in the mother-daughter duo that puzzled me. Saraswati would instinctively transform into a devoted caregiver for her mother, showering her with offerings from her carefully guarded snacks and delicacies from her envious children. 

Lakshmi, the strong provider seemed childlike in her need for care and attention, while Saraswati, her gentle daughter was her mother’s anchor, shouldering the weight of motherhood. The children often heard stories of Lakshmi’s hardships, from losing her husband at 17 and raising her daughter alone; yet Saraswati’s quiet sacrifices for her children spoke of a different, unrecognized strength.

Sarswati would generously give her mother all her gifts, especially red bright bangles to bring fleeting happiness to Lakshmi, who had long been deprived of such joys in her era. The family's progressive and empathetic values defied such constraints placed on widows at that time. Lakshmi with them would turn colourful, freed from the cold whites. 

As each decade passed, Saraswati’s children married, while Lakshmi continued to support the family—helping with wedding expenses, higher education fees, and home needs. Saraswati, on the other hand was instrumental in instilling deep values, wisdom, and a strong foundation in their lives.

And then came the time when Lakshmi aged and needed constant care from her daughter. The once-traveling spirit was now confined to the house. The children struggled to help their mother regain her independence, their grandmother now required round-the-clock care and support. 

During this time, children encouraged Lakshmi to write her autobiography, promising to bring her iconic story to life. 

The Pages Left Behind, A Legacy Written in Time…

Despite her fading memory, she filled many pages from her life. 

In Jan 2019, Lakshmi passed away, leaving behind these handwritten pages of her life story. Her frail hands had captured some key moments from her extraordinary journey. Each reflecting the memories she held closest to her heart in her last days.  However, the challenge was to complete it with illustrations and a chronology that would connect the dots. 

Her daughter Saraswati took on the task of completing this story. It was a monumental act of love and understanding as she poured her heart into interpreting her mother’s incomplete thoughts. The result was Dhoop Chaon (Sunshine & Shadow)—an autobiography chronicling Lakshmi’s sorrowful journey as a child bride, widowed at teen age, and her sunshine-like rise as an educator and influential leader in her village.

Reading this autobiography still tears me apart!

At just 13, Lakshmi got married. Her husband was a visionary scholar-engineer, working on special British-assigned projects, including the Sharda Dam, the last major British colonial irrigation project in India. He dreamed of transforming their village in Ranikhet through education and was determined to complete Lakshmi’s schooling—a promise that became urgent as his health failed and more desperate when he realized his life is ending soon. Tragically, he passed away when she was just 17, leaving her a young widow with a 3-year-old daughter behind him.

Against all odds, she fulfilled his wish. She pursued higher education, became a teacher, and with immense hard work eventually rose to the ranks of school head and a village Pradhan (chief). She had carved  a dignified path while raising her only daughter alone, in an era when such a feat was extraordinary.

One would be awestruck by the resilience of this woman who, transformed her grief into purpose. On the other hand, Saraswati’s role in completing and complementing her mother’s story was more than a duty—it was an extension of the whispers she heard in her mother’s womb, guiding her even after her mother’s passing.

Revelation of Identity and Purpose: Promise of Three

For Lakshmi and Saraswati were not merely goddesses of wealth and virtues that I had read about in mythology—I metaphorically referred here my grandmother Shanti as Lakshmi who symbolized strength and abundance and Reba, my mother is referred as Saraswati who instilled values, wisdom and holistic education in our family. As their storyteller, I weave their stories into narratives to inspire myself and future generations. 

My mother’s life was equally shaped by extraordinary circumstances. At just 3 years old, she lost her father and became a pillar for her teenage mother. With only a 15-year age gap, she sacrificed her childhood to nurture and support her mother whose focus was on expanding her education and building a career as the sole breadwinner.

Yes, my grandmother’s life followed a remarkable J-curve—a sharp turnaround driven by strong will. Widowed young, she rebuilt her life with resilience and independence, becoming a beacon of inspiration and hope. Admittingly in my younger age, I missed to relate much with her share of pain and struggles. Perhaps I saw more closely my mother’s sacrifices, like how she took a back seat, letting go of her own career aspirations for family, children and her husband’s army postings.

Cut to the year 2020 when a memorable moment came for our family. Entire three generations spread across Singapore, Mumbai, Russia, Dubai and Delhi united to visit our ancestral home in Ranikhet to honor our grandmother’s first death anniversary. My mother proudly carried her mother’s book ‘Dhoop Chaon’ to distribute in her Himalayan homeland.

As I wove these memories together, it is deeply gratifying to see myself as a voice among the whispers —a channel through which their stories are revived with purpose. First when I played a part in publishing my grandmother’s autobiography, and now through this chapter, as a living testament and product of combined legacy of Lakshmi (like my grandmother Shanti) and Saraswati (like my mother Reba), who represent these roles in our lives.  

Sharing their story is to honor the fierce spirit of Lakshmi and the nurturing soul of Saraswati, embodying strong values and brought forward to future generations, by their third generation.

My Womb Lessons

• Strength is Multifaceted 

• Ambition and selflessness can co-exist in their own unique ways.

My grandmother, an ambitious, accomplished, and fiercely independent woman—rose above all adversities and challenging circumstances. In contrast, my mother, a nurturer and supporter, ironically became her mother’s caregiver, stepping into the role of protector while quietly putting her own dreams aside. 

Both women embodied virtues that defined their unique strengths: one through fiery determination, the other through selfless sacrifice. Contrasting, yet powerful ones.

• Life reveals its purposes in unexpected ways. 

• Whether through regret or awakening, the stories and choices of our lineage are intricately woven into the fabric of time. If not passed down through generations, these lessons may remain unheard and unlearned.

As I brought my grandmother's autobiography to life, I watched my mother’s dormant writing talent bloom in her seventies. Seeing her effortlessly express what she had long fretted over, I realized that life often reveals its purpose when we are finally ready to embrace it.

• XX factor

• Motherhood gave me a fresh perspective when I faced a pivotal choice to make: Embrace motherhood or pursue a long-awaited overseas career opportunity. Like many I chose the former one; yet deep within, I wrestled with the unspoken but profound contrasting influences of my mother and grandmother had on me.

The extended time after childbirth became a journey of introspection, providing clarity on my life’s direction. I aspired to infuse their virtues into my identity—to be like Lakshmi, a wealth-giver, while embodying Saraswati’s like grace as an educator, as a nurturer.

What once felt like an internal conflict between my grandmother’s career resilience choice and my mother’s selflessness acts evolved into a realization that these choices are not opposing forces, but complementary strengths. An all black-and-white lens shifted, revealing a spectrum of vibrant colors—the nuanced truths I needed to embrace.

This deepened my belief that every woman carries an extraordinary X factor, drawn from the unmatched strength of her XX chromosomes, both biologically and mentally.

Epilogue: Whispers Of The Wombs

The lessons of the womb are not loud declarations; they are quiet, persistent murmurs that guide us through life. It takes generations to interpret these whispers, but once we do, they shape our choices and our legacy. 

I urge everyone to listen to these unspoken whispers intuitively, uncover their purpose and transform them into stories worth sharing. Whether from those who silently hold up the sky for others or those in the spotlight, both have stories that deserve to be seen and heard— passed from womb to womb.

My grandmother’s life embodied resilience, determination, and education as tools for empowerment, yet it lacked the depth of relationship bonds which she saw fulfilled in her daughter’s life. On the other hand, my mother, despite living in over 20 cities with my father, never truly experienced the outside world. Her life revolved around serving her mother, husband, and children. 

Together, they completed each other’s journeys, giving and receiving what the other lacked.

Learning from their lives, I reflect back at my own choices through the lens of responsibility, striving to fulfil the promise of three generations as it is meant to be!

In this chapter, I have aspired to share the wisdom of unspoken whispers passed down through the wombs, honoring the promise and legacy of past generations. This is my humble contribution, a small drop in the vast ocean of personal stories meant to inspire and uplift.

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By Sonia Arora