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A Woman Complete
As soon as Pramila returned from the hospital, she had climbed the stairs to the temple room at the top of her house. In her puja kotha Pramila bowed down and repeatedly kissed the floor. The picture of Mother Durga standing over the rakshas was on the altar. The divine goddess mother’s lips seemed to lift into a smile. Pramila couldn’t but help smile back. She uttered a silent prayer and closed her eyes. Tears seeped from between the closed folds of her gaajal colored eyes.
Pramila looked out of the window at the sun shining with a new radiance today. Pramila had given up on the idea of ever being a mother. But she had not stopped praying to Durga Ma for a baby. Earlier that day, the doctor had confirmed the news at the hospital.
Pramila had so many people to call on the phone. Where would she even start? She daren’t miss anyone. She knew from other girl’s experiences how notorious people are on holding unto grudges on things like this. Pramila decided that she had to call her girl-friends. She looked down bashfully. Pramila now felt guilty for eyeing their babies enviously. Sometimes in her dark moments she even secretly wished to steal one of their sleeping babies when no one was looking. It had gotten so bad that Pramila had begun to avoid parties that she knew were going to be frequented by new mothers.
Keeping first things first, Pramila decided that she would make arrangements to keep her word to the goddess Durga. Pramila had promised that if Mother Durga would give her a baby, she would sacrifice a black goat at the Manakamana temple. She decided that her husband and herself would go to Manakamana temple that very weekend. Now with the cable car, they could make it up easily in a day. The most cost effective way to do it was to buy a black goat in
Pramila thought of all her in-laws that had jabbed jokes about her not having a child. Her face stiffened at the thought. Who was going to have the last laugh now, her eye brows seemed to ask. The fact that her husband was the oldest son and his younger siblings had already had their children did not make it any easier on her. Pramila cast those thoughts aside. She focused on the deity in front of her. Pramila burned an incense and began to make the red lit up piece of fragrant stick go in circles in her right hand. The smoke from the lit stick swept in waves as it whirled and danced.
Pramila had dreamt of being a mother since she was a girl cuddling her plastic dolls. For a while it seemed like her dreams as a little girl would remain empty and unfulfilled. She didn’t sleep easily with this disappointment. Being married for 12 years and not having had a child twisted her intestines into knots. Sure she would wink in public and say, “Oh, my husband and I don’t want kids because there will be too much comparison between my sister’s kids and mine. I’m perfectly content with my nephews and nieces.” But Pramila wondered if people could see how her barrenness had dragged a crease under her otherwise youthful mouth.
Pramila at one time had questioned why God felt that she didn’t deserve a child. Had she been a bad person in her last life? She could see all kinds of people being parents in the world who didn’t deserve to be. She thought that she had been a pretty good person. But obviously not good enough. Surely God was punishing her for something. But what?
But now that it was finally over, she felt absolved. Today she felt like the girl from her youth that used to tuck her dolls diligently in bed at night. Pramila slowly patted her saree as she longingly looked at her lap where her much awaited and desired doll would lie seven months from now.