It was one of those days when you wish you did not open your eyes. Those days are over when rain came during the monsoon only- now the sky could be overcast anytime. And you might get wet without knowing- feeling the shivering wind slapping you, the world dark, bleary through the infirm ruddy eyes- the same unwanted place in which you just dropped in- without wanting, without knowing.

She was always a good girl. She was so gentle. Her voice so soft. Who would have thought marriage would bring about in her! No, she did not leave any of those qualities that endeared her to everybody. She just attained- what! Well, as they say, "character". The girl who would remain hidden in her room, behind high piled books and a picture of Mary and the crucified Jesus, when someone came to her place was so filled with anticipation of becoming a mother. It is a great change for any girl- from a virgin maiden to a wife and a mother. Well, I am a man and I believe the same is not so for men. And she…

"Christ! Can you believe it? I feel funny. I am so changed. The stirrings inside my womb, and sometimes pain. Yes, the pain is sometimes so great- and each time I become more aware that I am feeding a keeping a little creature. Flesh of my flesh, my baby.

That was a week back. She was due in a week. Two days back she cried. The little creature was yearning for life- its own life. It had fed long in its mother’s womb, now it was yearning for its mother’s milk. And it would lie crying in the mother’s lap, happy to see the world, world that was much larger than to what it had been accustomed for months, a world that was much brighter and noisier.

Just two more days, I assured her. Well, maybe even one! And then you’d be a mother. Who knows what was going on in her mind. She had endured the pangs of motherhood for nine months, herself not much larger than a little child. A child, blind, who had been drawing something for a long, long time. Soon his eyes would be well and he would see what he has drawn. I hope you know- at least a little bit- what I mean. It was like the coming out of a result- you have studied and toiled long and now you'd know what you’ve done. Only, in the present case it was a little different. Nothing could compare with it. Nights she had spent, her hand on her stomach, smile on her face, eyes on the infinity above. What was she thinking, this little child, looking yonder at the celestial world, the world of stars and moon that play together, that shine brightly amid the dark sky? No, these moments were special, her very own that she shared with her own baby. No one could come between them. Mother and baby played and talked nights together. I just looked at her. Sometimes I would keep my eyes closed, sometimes I would lie awake. She knew I was looking at her. And then she would turn her face, smile with those twinkling jolly eyes, caress my hair and close her eyes happily, that smile still impressed upon her face. Not a word. Words would disturb all eloquence. Silence spoke here.

Yesterday was a day of sun and drizzle. In the morning she told me she had had a dream. Her daughter had run away with a man who was not good. He won her innocent daughter with his talks and she left her forever. She cried. I told her that she had thought too much. First let the daughter come. But how did she know it would be a daughter?

Now, why did she have such a dream? Why such dark clouds entered the clear sky? This little mother was so happily busy, waiting to welcome her child. Playing and talking with it. She would get lost whenever she saw a little baby in the TV. No, she wasn’t like others who couldn’t accept this change. She didn’t need anybody’s help during this period. She said it was her family and it was her baby. Only she would look after them. And now why such happy dreams changed into a nightmare? Well, she’s a sensible girl. She didn’t keep brooding over such thoughts. She read a magazine. When she slept, I found she was looking at the picture of a sleeping baby- lying peaceful and beautiful in white sheets.

I was woken up early morning. The sky was still dark. The time had come. I waited outside. And all the anticipation would now take concrete shape. The blind child would now open his eyes and see what he has drawn. It was nothing less for me. Now, I couldn’t keep myself walking up and down the corridor. I strained my ears for the first little cry. I waited and waited.

The man in the white coat came and held my shoulder. No, I wasn’t thinking about myself. Yes, I have told you she has had sleepless nights dreaming about her baby. But I too had. Yet the baby was a baby- who was not born. I was thinking about my little girl. What must be going on in her mind?

The child saw the world all right, but what he wanted to see was now before his eyes- he had just dabbed gray with his brush on a white paper and kept thinking all along he had drawn his favourite toy- a toy that he has never seen. I smiled as I came in. she had cried and her eyes were red. I sat down beside her and patted her breast. She pressed my hand, looked sharp and said, I am sorry.

A little far off was the sleeping baby- lying peaceful and beautiful in white sheets.

It was a daughter.