When Shriya was born, our family was quiet. They did not share the news with the neighbors or the extended family. They did not want anyone to know that they had failed yet again.

When Shriya was born, the skies were wrapped in sorrow, their tears dripping through their pores. Ma lay on her bed, drained, her frail body soaked in perspiration. No one was beside her.

Shriya was born a girl. Shriya was also born dark. Her skinny body, wrapped in white cloth was relegated to a corner of the room at the back of the house. That was the room where the women in the family stayed after giving birth.

But Riya and I loved our little sister. The day she was born we had announced her arrival to all our friends and teachers in school. We had even bought toffees for our friends with our pocket money.

Every evening after school, we would come to the room to have a glimpse of our little angel. Ma would shoo us off while Daadi would rebuke us for going into the room.

“Why?” I would ask.

“Don’t ask questions,” Daadi would reply curtly.

“They are impure,” our aunt would later explain.

“How?” Richa would ask.

“You will understand, when you grow up,” she would say and continue to roll out round chapatis. I would wonder how her chapatis came out so perfectly round.

I had once asked Ma how the chapatis made at home were round and soft and all of the same size.

“Practice,” Ma had replied. “You too will learn.”

Despite being forbidden, Riya and I would sneak into the back room at night when the rest of the family was asleep. The first night that we did so, Ma was fast asleep but Shriya was wide awake , staring at the street light that was pouring in through the window.

“She is awake,” Riya whispered excitedly.

We moved quietly to the bed and picked her up. She stared at us and then gave a toothless smile and gurgled. Ma woke up and gasped when she saw us .

“Why are you here?” she whispered in agitation. “Go back to your room. Your grandmother will be livid.”

“Shh, Ma,” I said. “Don’t worry. They won’t know. Dadi is sleeping and Baba won’t say anything if he finds out.”

“Let us stay, Ma” added Riya. “We never get to see the baby and our friends in school keep asking about her.”

Ma looked worried but relented.

“Play with her for a while and then go back. Let no one know you were here.”

Riya chuckled. “Ma, you worry too much.”

Ma lay back and watched her three daughters play. She closed her eyes and dozed off.

……

A year went by. Shriya had grown into a bright,chirpy toddler.

One afternoon, Ma’s sister came on a visit. We had heard a lot about her but had never met her. She stayed in some far away country, we were told.

She had brought gifts for the entire family and Daadi was very happy. Ma was busy preparing the evening meal. Dadi and Maasi sat on the front porch talking in low voices. When Ma entered, they became quiet.

It was sometime after dinner, that Ma and Baba were summoned to Daadi’s room. Maasi was sitting beside Daadi on her bed.

“Both of you know how important it is to have a child to carry forward the family legacy,” Daadi began in her usual peremptory way. “This poor girl and her husband have all the money in the world, but no children.”

Maasi wiped her moist eyes.

“Fortunately,” Daadi continued, “both my sons have been blessed with children. Two grandsons from my elder son and three granddaughters from my younger ones.”

She paused.

“I was saddened to hear this girl’s story. Her in-laws want their son to get married again, because she is unable to bear a child. Imagine !”

There was silence. Ma immediately reached out to Maasi. Though we were too young to understand anything, we knew it was something bad.

“We can’t allow her to suffer for no fault of hers,” Daadi continued. “The least we can do is help in whatever way we can. We will give her one of our children.”

Ma froze. Baba too became very still. Riya and I involuntarily moved closer to him.

“Shriya is still young. She will find it easier to adapt to new parents.”

“No,” Ma shrieked. “Never. I will not give her away.”

Baba took a sharp breath in and drew us close to him.

“You have three children. You could easily give me one of them,” Maasi said tearfully. “I promise I will give Shriya the very best. I will put her in one of the best schools in the US and give her all the love I can. She won’t miss you at all. I promise, Didi.”

“Nooo,” Ma screamed. “Shriya is my child. No one has the right to take her away or decide what’s best for her.”

“Please, didi,” Maasi pleaded.

“No,” Ma screamed again.

“You are being very difficult and unreasonable,” Daadi told her sternly. “You need to understand what your sister is going through. If her husband marries another woman, how will she survive?”

“You stay out of this,” Ma turned towards Daadi. She was trembling with rage. “How dare you even suggest giving away my Shriya? Why did you not think of giving away one of your grandsons ? Of course you wouldn’t. Shriya is a girl and you have disliked her ever since she was born. You in fact hate my children. You think I haven’t noticed?”

“Don’t cross your limits,” Daadi warned.

“You have crossed your limits. Just because I have been an obedient daughter in law, you think you can pull the strings and get me to do whatever you want. I have been quiet only because I was afraid I would be driven away from the house and I would end up burdening my parents. But you know what? I really don’t care now. Do what you will. I will not part with any of my girls.”

Daadi was livid. “Control your wife,” she shouted at Baba.

Baba got up from the couch and went towards Ma. Putting an arm around her, he said, “Ma, none of my daughters are going anywhere. If you have a problem with them, I am ready to move out with my family.”

“How dare you talk to me like that?” Daadi yelled.

Baba shrugged. Ma was sobbing uncontrollably. Baba held her in his arms and beckoned us towards him. We went and hugged them tight.

 

Image : Ojaswi Pratap Singh ( Unsplash )