Today, I am clinging to my babyjaan out of fear. Fear of life's biggest farce known as Death. The rhythmic beating of her heart comforts me. I am no more bothered about taking a mother-daughter selfie. I want to behold her precious smile forever; I am so scared even in my imagination of losing her out of my sight. There is so much to do and share that an entire lifetime is not enough and I strive to give my best to her- time, love, protection, education, fun and everything. I promise myself to acknowledge and cherish every moment that we have together IN THIS LIFE.
In the morning, I got informed that my cousin and his wife had lost their first newborn. After a while, I found a numbing courage to say, 'be strong'. I hate the hard-hitting irony of these two words. I don't know how I will offer my condolences to them. I have often found myself making moral and emotional fumbles in situations like these. I don't make eye contact with people who have lost their loved one(s). I hug them but quickly pull back before I jump into the abyss of their eyes. Simply, because I am scared! My mother says that I lack conviction to accept the natural order of life, I sulk for ages at events which are beyond human control and also, instead of offering prayers I launch war against the God.
No, I don't fight with the God but he does seem distant and indifferent when a life is lost. You must have seen how a family gets supercharged to welcome a newborn. Many of you must have felt the kicks and heard the heartbeats inside your body. You must have seen how your body prepares itself to give birth to a new life. What disturbs me most is the preparation for life which walks hand in hand with the randomness of death. Unfortunately, a mother's body only knows the preparation part hence, it does not compensate for the loss. She lactates, her breasts get full and she longs for the baby who is no more. She mourns for the silence of her womb. Ultimately, she accepts the reality and turns the leaf to write a new chapter of life.
My husband allows me to weep on his chest and as our breathing becomes almost one, I utter my decision of never bearing a (second) child again. He does not tell me to be strong; rather he caresses me to be at peace within. I am quiet but there is no peace. I accept my fear and vulnerability. I ask myself in turbulence, "why do we never give up on life!?" I am not talking about suicide, failure, never-ending struggles, samadhi and euthanasia, and at times when we fashionably say that I have achieved everything. I can rest in peace now. No, I am not talking about giving up on life like that. In DEVDUTT PATTANAIK'S My Gita Chapter 8, he talks about fear as a critical emotion which is essential in the struggle for life. Fear is a neuro-biological fact. It is the first emotion that manifests with the arrival of life. He says, "Fear of dying creates the restless urge to undertake extra efforts to find a mate, reproduce and risk death to raise an offspring, so that at least a part of the creature outlives death." But a mother whose womb is shattered and silenced and has lost the life, which once was breathing in her body, how do we bring her back to normalcy? How do we offer peace of mind to her? No amount of updesha, karmic gyaan and yoga can help her 100%. DEVDUTT'S theme on fear stands true in this case from a patriarchal point of view. The cycle of birth and death is necessary to restore balance on earth and to create generation(s). The womb does acknowledge that 'a life lost can be replaced by a life born'. It can fill the silence of the womb with a pulse of hope. But it is too frightened to be the source of life again and this is a never-ending dilemma of the womb.
