Body - When not hungry loves to discuss theories.


Question and answers form a large part of growing up. Nancy indulged in a lot of question answer session with Megha, talking to her sometimes while washing clothes too. The gagas and gigis of Megha assured her she hadn't toppled herself on the bed while she cooked or washed.
A small town is often at mercy of rickshaw transport, Nancy did knew a few of them, but when they weren't available, traveling became a tough ask. Rickshaws here could actually take part in Formula One Racing she thought.
As she stood that day with Megha in her hand and an appointment with a child specialist on her wrists who visited town once a week, she found no rickshaws. She cursed herself for not arranging a rickshaw a day before.

Suddenly a car stopped on the other side, she saw someone wave out to her, she couldn't make out who, but the car then moved again to take a U-Turn to come to her. 

It was Lata, her school friend, she had changed, "Nancy?"
"Lata, oh! you, here, when did you come?"
"Come in, sit, where are you going?"
"a child specialist, but you, you carry on wherever you were going,"
"no, sit", she was firm, "I will drop you to the hospital and catch up with you, I would be leaving for France tonight, so come in, lets catch up."

Nancy and Lata had been bench mates in school, shared everything for ten years. Lata then was sent abroad for studies. They did continue writing for five odd years and then stopped, the last letter of Lata informed her of Lata's interest in the ideals of Karl Marx, Lenin etc., and the debates she had in the higher circles. Nancy thought of her being close minded then.

"so, Nancy, how has it been, you look the same, it still seems the summer of 74', and how's your husband? and this, what?

"This is Megha, and you have changed a lot, except your non stop talking,"

Nancy explained about how of and when of Megha, the questions from Lata kept pouring in, and Nancy thought that the traffic had increased or there was something wrong with the driver, he drove the car very slow.
"So are you still in to Marx?"
"Oh, no, not at all, why?"
"Well, your last letter said so,"

"those ideals were discussed over five course meals Nancy, in expensive diners etc., then once I was prisoned in Yogoslavia for three days, because I mentioned something very casually. Those three days of hunger killed all my ideals," and she laughed.

"Giving up something never feels good,"

"Yes, but if there is a huge bonfire lit inside of you, then there is or are no feelings left inside" Lata sighed and continued, "their teachings resulted in violence, while they spoke of peace and equality."

"So now?"

"so now what, married, two great kids, with one expecting, so now a grand kid for me, that's it,"

"and what made you come back here,"
she looked away, "pain, I guess, I could never lie to you, you know that."


Man - It can always see the two ends of all spectrums by default.

Flower - Flowering is a radical transformation. A happening.


Biji was on the floor laughing, splitting up, " it was like 2 am or  somewhere there, and for some reasons I was tired and sleepy," Nancy spoke without being interrupted by Biji's laugh.
"And I'm waiting for her to finish her potty, after a while I guess she did, so I picked her legs up and was cleaning her bums, are you listening and what are you laughing so much, get up, I must've pressed the legs against the stomach, the spurt of creamy that came out was very fast. It took me whole of two hours to clean the bed and put the blankets to wash."
"you should've have called me, next time, hope you don't press her stomach the next time, ok, ok, but just call me."
"Look how the angel sleeps now."
"Oh, I forgot, look these are some clothes of Saina, you could use them," Biji placed the bag in the cupboard, " and I've made some kheer for you, warm it when you have it, ok?"
"Biji, you have been such.."
"when are you joining back?" Biji cut Nancy half way, she knew she couldn't handle a thank you from Nancy,
"soon",
"ok."

For next couple of hours Biji spoke about Saina. Her love was now pouring out in tears. Saina was married and would visit Biji once every two years. She was happy, but Biji missed her the most.
"Children just grow up very fast Nancy and especially daughters, I don't know why or how,"
"I hope and pray to Jesus for this child in every breath of mine, I hope I raise her well."
" You will, we will."


Body - How it supports itself on liquids alone.

Freedom - A spirit Re-Discovered. 


The Shiva temple was very old, a very small door through a dark corridor ended at a bare Shivalinga. 
Moortijee the caretaker was in his seventies, stood tall and was very thin, his diabetese had made him partial blind, but his voice had love that needed no language.
"I know it Amma," he spoke while holding Megha in his thin arms, "even a child has the voice that comes from heart and it can be understood irrespective of the language it speaks," he laughed.
"Come sit," called out Shyamala, Moortijee's wife, "I know you Nancy, I mean I have heard of you, will you have coffee?"
"Me, about me, how?"
"Thats not important, what is, is that you now sit in the boat to sail yourself, till now you left people, hmmmm, mothers on the river banks and went back, for first time you yourself stepped in to the boat," she laughed, " here take your coffee."
"Shyamala is a very old spirit, much much older than this temple too Amma," smiled Moortijee to Nancy,
"devotion is the most important, more than what you are and what you have, it is the spirit that re- discoveres freedom." 

Nancy sat there the whole afternoon quietly, Megha slept too in the chambers of Shyamala.

Their wants were so few thought Nancy as she cooked a light meal and boiled the milk for Megha. 
The peace she felt unnerved her, astounded by the ease of how she handled the few chores of that evening. Her diary waited for her to know all that happened today. 


Flower - When it comes out of earth, one knows nothing here is lost. 

Hinduism - A Bazar of sorts. But the bird here can fly.

"This would be very hard for me Father," Nancy spoke calmly, for the very first time in her life she was in a confession box, dark, cold .

"I would want her to grow as a Hindu, I mean can I?, I pray Jesus gives me strength, and I hope I won't,"

"No, no, my child, The Lord watches your intention, Nancy my child, go home, raise her as a Hindu, The Lord, the compassionate one has chosen you as her angel, go."

Being a nurse, delivering babies and being a parent were very very different, and then she was a single parent.

"you have energies coming in from planet venus," mocked Biji.
Biji had raised three children and was teaching Nancy about how to let Megha cry for atleast 15, 20 minutes before picking her up,  and how to recognize if the cry was because of pain or otherwise.

"It's not like that Biji, you have known me since I started working night shifts in twenties, I could hardly sleep the nights that I was off on, so now its fine if Megha wakes up midnight,"

"I know, I know, so you are learning about Hinduism, I mean all these books there?"

"yes."


Freedom - It never comes or goes.

.... Life - If destruction can be observed, creation has to occur there.

It was Sunday and Nancy wasn't attending her church in a very very long time, in fact never had she missed the Sunday church. She was eager, something she hadn't been in years, she could now bring up baby Number 24 and she had bought a new house. It was built simply and just right for her and the baby, although a little far from the hospital and church, but it needed no further investments.

Her friends and the senior doctors would be coming in very soon for the naming ceremony, but she had already decided to give the baby and the house the same name - Megha.

It was the baby's mother's name and that is all that was known of Megha when she registered her own self for the delivery. The advertisements in all urban and semi-urban cities for Megha's relatives had yielded no results. This small town which had hardly any population had no orphanage too.

So Megha was born in this naming ceremony to understand someday from where had Megha come from.

Hinduism - It can't be a religion.

Birth - was it as subtle as death now looks.

Sister Nancy in her late forties could never sleep the nights. Most of the times she worked the nights, rest she spent in the church. That night Jesus glowed and she cried.

Although she tagged the baby as Number 24, she thought of a name and asked Jesus to take care of her. She had helped delivered more than six thousand babies in the last 20 years of her service, but she knew this one was special.

"Nancy, Nancy," the nurse from the night shift called out as she entered to resume her duties, " that mother of Number of 24 did not survive the night, Dr. Meeta is waiting for you, I have to rush, you know I have to cook the meals for my husband, bye, rush, don't stand there, what's wrong, are you ok?"

"Yes." 

Life - What would define it? Words?

.....FATE - A point of birth to a point of death.

The body shivered as the nurse smiled saying, it's a girl. Wrapping her arms around the new born wet and warm she noted the time down. It was 2.45 am.

"your mother sleeps, you too will get to see her tomorrow" the nurse whispered as she left the labor room and headed to the baby room. She was tagged and the foot prints were taken, with a warm cap that would keep her head warm, she was all set for the world to come

Death - could it be an experience as birth.

Birth - was it as subtle as death now looks.

"and he shouted" she too shouting imitated him while standing on the porch, she was excited and the eyes seemingly would have popped out.

"I was thinking, no, wondering why you never returned my call, so you were with him again, and me Megha..... me, ME?", shouted Sneha,

" I know I'm sorry Sneha, no, I did think, but I was, you understand na?", laughed Megha as she flashed her ring and cried in joy.

She would have died, the ring would have then to go to grave with her, never to be removed by anyone and especially by fate.

FATE

To pattern me now, what would you need?
An inside and before that an outside.
Or if you choose not to pattern, then what would happen to all your outside
that form all of your inside.

The overwhelming perfume too is a projection of Mind.