A Solemn Promise

      A Solemn Promise

“Mrs. Roshni Singh, why are you pacing in the verandah? There are fifteen more to go, before it’s your turn for the prick. Do not block the entrance that is the only source of fresh air in this peripheral OPD.” Barked the freshly graduated lab assistant. 

“What is it with these assistants?  They consider themselves full doctors.” Muttered Roshni under her breath. The state of being full was never achieved by her until now when she is nine months full pregnant. No glass of full milk, no full covering clothes, no full education till matric and no full recognition of her identity. Life was always given to her in semicircles that too after a long wait.

    Ghanshyamlal Chaurasia’s wife Sitadevi waited ten additional days after her full with no labour pains. The village midwife made her perform some cumbersome squats which broke the waters. Thus, the third Chaurasia offspring was born. Though named Roshni, her birth never brought any rays of happiness to her nor her clan. Ghanshyamlal luckily had two sons, Om and Prakash, so finally after Roshni’s birth Sitadevi was allowed a tubectomy. The relief Sitadevi received after Roshni’s birth! 

  Roshni was the unwanted weed who crept up in the fertile shadows of her brothers. Whatever was disliked or unwanted by Om and Prakash, found its place with Roshni. If it was something, she needed solely for herself, the wait was tiring. This wait began at the crack of the dawn and progressed till the last morsel of her day. She had to wait and control her urges till her brothers were done with the morning rituals. Her gastric pleadings had to be suppressed till her brothers had contended themselves. Not only at the house but also at the water tap, women discouraged her from filling the pail first. The feeble image she portrayed ruined her childhood.  The pile of humiliation kept building on her Soul. She moved from being painful to painless. Complete stoic. Her oasis of relief were the temple stairs. Often, she took refuge when the burden of atrocities increased. Here too the village Brahmins had asserted their monopoly over God. Women could offer their prayers or perform the puja only after the honorary menfolk were done.

   “Why this infringement? Why this push always? Why the backbench? Why the queue? Why me?” Never did she find the answers to these sufferings. Her mind too was making her wait.

   She admired the grey and red uniform of the school. Girls in neat plaited hair, carrying school bags were objects of envy to her. One day the Sun made its entry from the west. Ghanshymlal reluctantly gave Roshni the license to attend physical school. This too was at the mercy of her brothers, who thought their textbooks instead of going waste be utilized. Roshni book after book, standard by standard progressed to out do her male-counterparts. The hammer struck when she was thrown out of the school as she outdid the Sarpanch’s son. Life again returned to the bin. 

   Coming of age, she was now the object of marital Trade. But again, her marriage was a hanging fire because of concerns over whether she deserved that much exchange of dowry or not. Finally, the deal happened. Roshni was married off to a village boy who swept the government hospital in the day and slept with ethanol at night. The tiresome wait continued.  Morning sickness happened to her only after a grueling two years wait. For the man, never waited till her chores were done.

    “Roshni Singh, your number is next.”  The assistant’s irritated loud voice jolted her. “At least this wait has come to an end.” She relaxed. Hands on her globular swollen abdomen, Roshni promised her unborn. “Girl or boy you will never have to wait.  My love, my affection will come answering even before you have dialed for it.

   The previous patient has walked out and Roshni has entered a new beginning where her Solemn Promise will be tested.