Good figure. Bright eyes. Soft nature. A charming young lady, she was.
Soon caught attention of the men, staying in the neighbourhood. She was my favourite. Used to protect her from lustful eyes, as much as I can. Not sure, if anybody among them had true love for her.
Suddenly discovered she is pregnant.
Another few months.
And, she is a mother now.
Adorable babies. Soft head, small eyes.
People around us did not like them obviously.
Seeing her perplexed about where to bring up them properly;
I requested my mother so that she could stay with us, in our house..
She started staying in our house. Beside my room.
Everyday, after coming from school, my first work used to be to cuddle the kids. What they are doing ? How much they grew up ?
The kids are little big now. Healthy. Naughty.
Named them, 'Babli' + 'Jhimli'.
That day was my exam. Came back home, the paper was not good. Sure, won't score much.
Sad mind badly needs a booster. Where are the kids ?
Babli ? Jhimli ?
Nobody there. Searched my house, then neighbourhood, then locality.
Nowhere they are. Came back home. Blank mind. Tensed.
Sat down beside their bed. Helpless. Their mother came.
Saw the same tension + question + sadness in her eyes, which are supposed to be seen in human eyes, such time.
She did not eat that night.
Next day, offered her my piece of fish.
She didn't touch.
For the consecutive few days, I saw her roaming in & around the locality, with a bizarre Meowing, searching her babies.
Took few more days for her to come back to normalcy.
The male cat ate her babies. A fact, common in the feline world.
20 years passed.
And, still when I recall that bizarre staring of her - asking me, "Where are my kids ?" I feel kind of shivering.
That day, for the first time, I realised,
Language is secondary.
Despite having over 6500 languages, Only one language rules in this world. Across genre, species, class, phylum.
The language of heart.
And, thereby basic emotion is same too.
This Women's Day, come, let's do a little bit for the other women too, who are not so human.
A small piece of fish, little milk, may be dipped in honey ?
And, if mother, providing something extra ?
so that she doesn't have to endure the pain of losing her babies ?
The pleasure you will get would be nowhere close to an expensive gift gifted by your man.
This Women's Day, Come, make a difference.
Spread Womanism; Not Feminism.