6:00 am

A woman wears a pale skin, her eyeballs floating in a pool of salty water. She frantically tries to lift her eyelids.

Amidst sobs, with a protruded belly gasping for breath. She slumps.


In the ward, transfixed. Everywhere is silent.
The syringe used for her suture falls from the tray, jingles in the air.

The woman had just put to bed


A robust figure sashays into the ward.
His palms caress the woman’s shoulder.

She couldn’t uttter a word. She blushes. The wrinkles on her cheek jerk as He plants a peck on it.

There is friction, as her jaw bones shrink forcing a smile.

2 minutes gone

A baby giggles. A stare

An inch closer, His cheekbones deflates.
A triple stares. It’s a girl. The smile fades.

His pulsebeat breaks the silence as his stubby fingers stroke the cradle

In the eureka of the moment

The man is whisking his gift away, wishing to strangle the baby

The switch

He flings a hiss at her, a lullaby for a brand new baby.

In a flash, storms out with the hamper. His footprints quake and the baby shudders in fright.

Maybe, the woman has a time bomb fast loosing its counts.

Hands akimbo, the nurses on duty shrug shoulders. The baby lies in her crib staring in thin air. Her inquisitive eyes poke their minds

She decides to feign patience. No kicks, no screams. She stays put clenching her tender fists.

In a snap

The woman fizzles, She didn’t suckle her.

She watch the nurses run helter through skelter.

The oxygen mask!!!
She is gasping for breath. Hiccups!!!

Call the doctor, she faints.

September 2020

The baby is all grown. The man has grown fond of her.

His favorite words are “Daddy’s girl”.

Same words that wear his lips out. She pretends through the name calling, weighs her mind but there is no space for him there.


She is wondering why he dotes on her. She builds a thin wall to bridge the gap. Their connection fails everytime because distance lives next door.


She runs a checklist. For every box there is a tick that makes her sick.

On the flip side, His love is now grey

Cheers to yester- years

That woman is my mother.

And I am the baby!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *