Storymania - Wanted - Unwanted by Partha Pratim Majumder

Wanted - Unwanted
Partha Pratim Majumder

I am now two months old and yet to be born. I dwell in the warmth of a womb. My body is thick mass of flesh and blood, which even I am not sure of. I am a name now – fetus. The world knows that at that age, I have no eyes, ears, nose or mouth at all what to say of my - self. I wonder . How they are sure of my lack of senses when none has seen me ?
Oneday, when I am around two months and in slumber , an exchange of words has hit my senses faintly across a thick wall of probably skin and tissues.
Female : “ Look Rahul ! I don’t want it now. It’s not that I don’t want it ever. But not now. I am settling down in my new job. Too much pressure. New workplace. Moreover, such a blue-chip company. As a first female manager in it’s I.T. wing, I ‘ve no time for all these. “
Male : “What do you want now ? To abort ?”
Female : “Yeah ! Let’s get rid of it. “ Her voice is husky but cold.
Male : “ Oh God ! Are you sure of what you ‘re talking ? For last three years, we both ‘ve been seeking for it. Even after attending the last Baby Show at Governor’s House , you cried your heart out for it in the car. Remember that ? You were then tired of doing your higher studies. Even, you did make phonecalls in frenzy to the astrologers in TV Shows for the answer. For the definite possibility. Now, everything is changed ? From wanted to unwanted ? Fine ! V…e ..r .. y fine.“
Female : “ Try to understand my position ! Be practical . Can I afford of baby – sitting now ? “ Her voice is now soft … appealing.
Male : “ If you ‘ve any respect for my opinion as husband….. I want it….. by all means.” The voice is hard… full of authority ……….words are piece by piece . The sound of slamming the door comes . Then, the sound of weeping. Finally, a few words more from the female voice – “I should have been much more careful.”

When I am four months old, I am in comma type sleep. Suddenly, I wake up. Feel the surrounding. Go back to sleep after a while. Focussed in a couple of jobs only. Then , I hear two voices in conversation…. at the opposite of that thickly built wall.
Male : “ How ‘re you, Sweta ? “
Female : “ Fine.”
Male : “ I ‘m sorry that you ‘re missing your office for a while. Tell me, what can I do for you ? “
Female : “ Nothing much except one curiosity to take care of. I am very much curious to know whether it is a boy or a girl ? Can I go for test ? “
Male : “ I know it is a boy…….. since you want to have a boy.” The voice is in flattery.
Female : “ But , you want it to be a girl, right ! as you ‘re fond of girls ?” The voice giggles.
Male : “ Yeah, that’s true. But, to accommodate your likes and dislikes , I ‘ve no problem in a pass over.”
Female : “ Don’t be silly, Rahul ! You mean that your act of kindness will decide on its sex organ. Or fix it up ? What nonsense ! Come to the point straightway. Can I go for a test to know whether it is a boy or a girl ? Sex – Determination Test ? “ The voice is harsh…….. ruthless.
Male : “ Don’t misinterpret me, dear ! As far as Sex – Determination Test is concerned, that’s not possible – it’s banned by the government. So, even you want it, test can not be done.” The door is slammed shut. Then……… silence prevails.
I ponder for a while. So, am I a boy or a girl or just an - it ?

Now , I am six months old. Still sleeping in a closely knit dull place. My body has taken certain shape. Two long pipe like things each at the upper part and at lower part of my body have come up. Most importantly, I can move those pipe like things called hands and legs , change position slowly upside down and reverse . That’s the only job I am engaged in at that hour. I start to feel restless in that absolute darkness and dullness. How long am I in that tight enclosure ? It may be a few hundred years. Who knows ? So, oneday I wake up by my own restlessness and disgust for throwing my limbs. I hear some conversation between a male and female voices.
Female : “ Hey, Rahul ! What heavy kicks ! It must be a boy. Very naughty.”
Male : “ Okay, okay ! Relax, darling ! How are you sure of a boy from those few kicks ? I presume it to be sweet little girl scratching and punching her mom’s belly with tiny fingers to remind of her coming soon.” The man laughs.
Female : “ If he is a boy , he must be a good footballer, I suppose.”
Male ; “ If she is a girl, she must be of great personality whom the society can not ignore.” Then the voice goes for laugh with a chuckling sound followed by giggling of the female.
Male : “ Tell me one thing , Sweta ! In what direction does it move ? Clockwise or anti-clockwise ? My mom used to say that clockwise movement signifies that the babe is a boy and anti-clockwise movement signifies that the babe is a girl. “
Female : “ I am sorry . I am not too much worried of its movement or directions. What I want is safe delivery and at the earliest. Otherwise , I shall fall back against the time.”
No answer from the male. I don’t understand about the word - delivery – what, how and when. By the way, who are they to talk about me ?

When I am in my ninth month, things are clearer than earlier months. To see or hear , I need not depend on my senses anymore but on organs. I have now few funny pieces added to the ends of my hands, which I can monitor. Do they name them as fingers ? Even I can monitor or throw my pipe type legs. There are also same type funny pieces added at the end of legs. I think they are called fingers of legs.
Oneday, I wake up not for conversation or suddenness but for noise of more than one female. Everyone present there is talking as if something is happening. The sound of noise gradually lowers down to make me distinguish the voices.
Known female : “Oh God ! So many dishes of fish and meat !!! Variety of sweets too ! I can’t take all. I want a few. ”
Unknown female : “ Today, it is SADH ceremony ( Ceremony of Desire ). Wish you all the best. We want you deliver a perfect child – preferably a boy, for the sake of the forefathers of the baby. For the family tree. For its continuity. Let God be with you. A lot of delicacies of your choice and delights have been prepared and put before you.. All are yours, today. So, don’t be hesitant. Feel free and take as much as possible. You are not one now but two in one. “ she laughs, echoed by others present.
Known female : “ I don’t want to put on weight any more. So, no dish but a few pieces please.”
My organ of hearing sound is now so much strong that I can hear the music of female teeth, tongue and lips while in action. My sense starts to find out mine to activate. In stead of food, I finish my lunch licking lips and some tasteless water.
Can I hope for some good food for me ?

I have just crossed border of tenth month. I think that I ‘ve been big enough to get out of the tight enclosure. Once that sense has come, I am on my way to break the bondage… that apparent prison cell. That small hole . dark and gloomy. I am now in so much sense that I send my finger to find out what is it that pricks my left armpit. Hence, my urge to see the outside of the pigeon’s hole has become so immense that I dare to start my journey to the up on ninth day. And I find me swimming in huge , soiled water . Water carrying fibers, blood, filth and froth. I am horrified to feel that for so long, I ‘ve been in such water or under it. Time has come for me to remove all those limits. I want freedom.
But strangely, the more I swim up the more I sink. The more I sink the more I get throttled as if a python coils my throat from behind. I shake a bit and slow my pace ,. The coiling tail releases me a bit. After some efforts, I lie standstill like a half dead animal with deadslow breathing. . Then I come to hear some conversation that is going on next to that thick wall.
Unknown male : “ You see Mr. Roy, the condition of the patient is serious. The umbilical cord has coiled the baby’s throat. It needs a major operation within ten minutes to save your wife . Tell me, what do you want me to do at this juncture.”
Known male : “ What about the baby, don’t you think of possibility of his survival, Doctor ? ” A puzzled voice filled up with sadness.
Unknown male : “ I am afraid that chance of survival for the baby is twenty- eighty to the maximum. It’s better to forget the child for mother’s survival.” This voice is straight and without emotion.
Known male : “ What do you want me to do? Sir ? “
Unknown male : “ To sign on a bond for allowing us to go ahead with the operation and to make yourself ready for cost of the surgical operation.”
Another unknown male : “ I think the doctor is right, Rahul ! At this crucial moment, when you have to opt for one out of two, Sweta and the unborn baby, I think the first option is correct to take. Once , your wife survives, having another baby can not be a problem.”

I start to shrink as I sink down with cord coiled on my throat. Till now, none of my eyes do burn despite my swimming in this lake of filthy water…… but after I overhear the faint conversation of few males, my eyes start itching as heart pounds heavily with sense of death or sacrifice. Can I recognise my tears dripping into the pool of tasteless water ? Can any body know how long and how much struggle I have been making to come in the light of life ?

Is anyone interested about - what I want ?
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