GLANCING BACK OVER MY SHOULDER AT THE GOLDEN YEARS.......

25th July 2005- My LABOUR ROOM POSTINGS .....

" God help me!!! I can't bear the pain. Sister, help me. Get it it over with." The agony was excruciating and my ears felt crucified by the pain I could palpate in her voice that trembled and shrieked, all at once.I stood near the cold, iron delivery table and gently clasped her hands, her scream cutting off midway as she looked wildly into my eyes, her eyes pleading for deliverance from the agony. I never felt so helpless and futile in my life.Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead and further drenched the sweat soaked hospital gown she wore.I placed my palm on her forehead and she closed her eyes, rivulets of tears trailing her cheeks. I felt the cool wetness of her lashes flutter against my palm. I softly explained to her that the baby would take time. She quietened and the labour room was plunged into an unnatural silence. But only for one moment. Reena let out a piercing scream which shattered my eardrums or whatever remained of it. I looked hurriedly between her legs .Sure enough, I saw the characteristic black, sticky bunch of hair emerge through the widening cavity. I yelled for the Obstetrician as panic overtook me when I realised that she was delivering and there was no proffessional around. I quickly donned a pair of surgical gloves and the apron and stood between her legs, praying with shaking knees that she would not deliver the baby into my hands. The head popped out and thankfully the Obstetrician also arrived and she shouted instructions on how to deliver the baby. Blood gushed out, splashing on my shoes as the shoulders emerged and I hooked my fingers under the baby's shoulders, seizing him with both my hands. Slimy, bloody creature!!! I quickly placed it in the radiant warmer and proceeded to wipe him till he was clean and pink like a baby was supposed to be. He was the first baby I had delivered!!!I planted a kiss on his cheek and he screamed his lungs out.Reena asked me if she could see the baby and I brought him close to her. Tears filled her eyes as she lovingly caressed the baby. She asked me to name him. I was touched and decided to christen him "Hemant" which I think means strong in Hindi. He had endured my rough handling quite bravely and had the courage to holler in my ears. Oh my poor eardrums!!!!!

REMINISCES.......

Its been a long time since I have connected soul with ink and paper, experience with reflection. A very long time indeed.....I feel the need to dwell deeper into my life, to search for greater depths .....just like I used to 3 years ago......

8 th August 2004. The day I started to write " Dear Diary....." , clutching the blank pages of a book close to me, enscribing it in my journey through life with my tears and laughter till the barren indifference of the white pages were coloured with the shades of my life and I stared in disbelief at the reflection of my soul which no mirror could have ever revealed to me.
I leaf through the pages of my diary, reminiscing the days of my college years. 4 years that were the longest in the history of my travails and the shortest in the chronicles of ecstacy and happiness. Crossing the threshold of my hostel, 4 years ago, I paused instinctively at the door of my small room, freshly painted with yellow distemper, breathing in the possiblities and experiences that wafted in the ambience, my mind drawing caricatures on its walls, filling the emptiness with music and claiming the space as mine.
My imagination and ambition had found a home and my eyes welled in gratitude as I watched the sky though the grilled windows.I only remember the sky....it would seem from my description that that was all there was to see through my window but you couldn't have been more misled by my description. My hostel warden's balcony loomed ominously and dominated almost the whole of the view. It was only a mouthful of sky that dared to encroach and that was all that I needed to get heady.............

I miss those years of unshackled revelry in imagination and ambition, when my desires knew no bounds and I pursued all that my heart desired... running with the wind, splashing in the rain, lying on the muddy ground as the heavens cleansed my soul with its holy waters, music, theatre, dancing, sketching, painting.......and now..........here I am, in the land of opportunities.....devoid of my desire, inching my way up the ladder which everyone calls the ladder of success. Is it? Is money the only true measure of success ?Is fame and approval of people, the crown?.......................I don't know.......................I am in a quandary............I leaf through the pages of my diary to find what I feel I am losing.....my perception of life which I am now trading with people's perception......it makes me more successful in the eyes of everyone but I cannot taste its sweetness.............