DEDICATED TO: butterfly2wander HarshithaNMurthy khushi407

"Fate's an unexpected feat,

With unfathomable turns and twists,

Often horrifying, sometimes broken,

Like fragments of a shattered mirror,

Imperfect, severed, yet brilliant.

Detours and downfalls, nestled carefully,

Under serendipity's obscure wings,

Wreck havoc upon the best-laid plans,

Often leaving tears unshed,

Remnants of a bittersweet, despondent embrace.

Through opaque lenses,

Forced into an unknown daze,

Struggling through the catacombs,

Praying to find an escape.

Overcast skies, pouring rain,

A reflection of the turmoil, 

The embodiment of conflicting pain.

Through shadows that haunt,

Hidden away in the throes of hurt,

Crawling, curious, inevitable hope takes birth.

In the quiet surrender that deafens the heart,

new beginnings beckon at the horizon.

For when the heart concedes to the unknown,

and weary shoulders bear a burden, veiled,

an intangible strength is sown.

Taking root in the depth of your might,

Replacing the dark with specks of light,

Where beauty is nurtured, 

And life accepted,

The tears fall,

Your heart and soul cleansed.

The sorrow and pain dissipate,

As you let yourself seek warmth

Of an acquiescent embrace.

As the heart yields and the mind bows,

The illusion of perfection is denied powers.

Reality and pragmatism come together,

Bringing to you the vague future.

Where serendipity brings you a smile,

Joy sustains,

As you embark further,

Looking back fondly, the regret dispels,

Alas, what remains is what awaits,

An embrace that demands your surrender,

Such is life's whimsical meander."

-Elegiac_Damsel

_____

Third Person's Point of View:

17th February

The morning dawned sombre and dull, with slight warmth seeping through the foggy skies overlooking the national capital—the ambiguity reflecting what coursed through Mrinalini's psyche.

Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face was pale even as she worked in the laboratory, trying her best to focus on the method that Zain was explaining. She had barely managed to eat breakfast and had even refrained from having a long conversation with Debarghya. He had called in the morning, and she had replied with short and clipped responses, explaining that she had a busy day ahead and had been running late. The truth was, however, that Mrinalini felt severely conflicted after the plausibility of a pregnancy that had been revealed to her the night before. She knew there had to be more tests before she could conclude with conviction that it was indeed the truth, but even the little possibility that it was a reality she couldn't escape was daunting and deafening. 

"Mrinalini, are you listening?" Zain's annoyed voice brought her back to reality. He was leaning over the desk where they were comparing notes. "I have been droning on and on, but you completely zoned out."

"I am sorry," she replied, embarrassed. I didn't quite understand why we would consider using a concentrated acid as a catalyst instead of something mild or perhaps even alkaline."

Zain sighed, repeating his words and reasoning, pointing out the reaction he had written as a chemical equation on the whiteboard mounted against the wall. 

Mrinalini felt immense fatigue as she sat down to lunch with Zain and some other research fellows, including Chitra. Although the work that they did in the lab didn't involve physical strain, it was still quite mentally draining and exhausting, given the complexities and every little nitty-gritty involved. It was daunting and a lot more challenging for her, especially after the night that she had had. 

"Are you okay, Mrinalini?" Chitra asked in a whisper, out of concern. "Did you take a pregnancy test? I would suggest getting the blood work redone, you know? Getting wrong results isn't quite unheard of. There could have been a sample swap."

Mrinalini shook her head, suppressing a painful smile. Given the research institute's reputation, perhaps in a billion, there was a chance that something as irresponsible and dubiously irrefutable would take place. "I am fine, Chitra. I'll get the blood work done once I return home to Kolkata. My flight's in the morning tomorrow. I thought I'd leave it all till I get back. I want to focus on work here while I can."

"Of course," she replied. "If you want to make an alternate decision, though, I might be able to help you at any point. One of my cousins had a gynaecological issue after her two pregnancies. The doctor had told her strictly that another pregnancy would be high-risk and would be life-threatening for her and the baby. She had to have an emergency abortion because of that when she fell pregnant the third time. I know the clinic where this was done, and it is completely compliant and safe with the legal and medical mandates."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," Mrinalini replied decisively, smiling politely. I'll surely contact you if I need any further help, but for now, I'd be immensely grateful if you could please share a copy of my blood reports with me for reference."

"Do you want me to print that out for you, or do I mail it?" Chitra asked, immediately starting to scroll through the files in her cloud storage saved in a folder titled 'Preliminary'. Mrinalini shared her email I.D., choosing to have a soft copy over a hard copy to ensure discretion. 

"Take care, Mrinalini," Chitra said as they dispersed for the day in the evening. "I don't know how you feel about this, but I am around should you need help or counsel."

Mrinalini smiled, grateful for a friendly hand on her shoulder. It was difficult to suppress the catastrophe of feelings coursing through her, but with someone to reassure her, it was perhaps a little comforting. She was well aware that nothing would change and that destiny would have the ultimate say, but it was still better to know for a moment that there would be well-wishers around, no matter what life would bring forth. 

...

18th February

It was late afternoon, and Mrinalini was fidgeting as she sat in the waiting room for her appointment with Dr. Mitra. She had landed in Kolkata in the morning and immediately called the doctor's office to schedule the earliest appointment, knowing that she wouldn't be at peace until she had a consultation to determine the veracity of her pregnancy. Debarghya hadn't been informed yet. In fact, she had yet to meet him as he wasn't home when she arrived, having already left for work. 

"I'll be home by 8, Mrinal," he had promised her over the phone when she had spoken to him after landing in Kolkata. "I'll be going to work anyway," she had replied, reassuring him. She did work at CFSL, meeting her seniors and discussing some of the key ideas she was considering pursuing in her research, seeking their expertise and counsel. At around 3.30, she had left, citing ill health and had been excused. She had taken the metro to the doctor's office in time for her appointment.

"Mrinalini Acharya," the doctor's assistant who managed the patients, called out. The doctor's ready to see you now."

Smiling politely, Mrinalini made her way to the doctor's chamber, her heart thumping hard against her ribs, her breathing laboured only slightly. "Good afternoon, Doctor," she managed to greet Dr Mitra, taking a seat across the table. 

"Hi, Mrinalini," Dr Mitra greeted back, looking at the young woman in front of her with concern. "Is everything alright? Did you start bleeding heavily again, or is it pain?"

Having held on to her resolve for long enough, Mrinalini let out in an exhausted whisper, "I may be pregnant, doctor."

Dr Mitra was visibly taken aback. From her interactions with Mrinalini, it had been evident that she wasn't planning to go the family way anytime soon. She had always seemed career-focused and futuristic. "What makes you think so?" she finally asked, collecting herself. "Did you take a test at home? That can sometimes show fluctuating results."

Mrinalini opened the PDF containing her blood work on her phone and pushed it towards Dr Mitra so she could take a look. 

"May I know why you needed to get these tests done?" the doctor asked Mrinalini, eyeing the H.C.G. levels highlighted in the report. "Were you suspecting a pregnancy?"

Mrinalini shook her head. She explained the background of these tests and informed the doctor of the research study she had volunteered to participate in. She also mentioned the pregnancy test she had taken in her room, which had been positive, but she was still unsure.

"So, you want to corroborate the veracity of your pregnancy, am I correct?" Dr Mitra asked. "For starters, let me ask you this, and I expect an honest answer. Did you engage in unprotected sexual intercourse anytime in the recent past?"

Mrinalini nodded, blushing beet red, overcome by shame and embarrassment. "It's okay, my dear," the doctor reassured gently. "But I bled after that, doctor," Mrinalini replied, her eyes downcast. "The incident happened last month, and I menstruated a couple of weeks later, and I am certain that there hasn't been another case where we..."

Her voice trailed off uncomfortably. "I get that this was unexpected and that you have reasons for not believing the results," Dr Mitra concluded. "However, bleeding is fairly normal in many pregnancies. Many mothers have spotting or bleeding, and in several cases, it isn't abnormal or much of a risk. Would you describe your flow last month as normal or heavy?"

"It wasn't heavy, doctor," Mrinalini confirmed, biting her lip. "In fact, I only bled for a couple of days, which is quite an anomaly. I generally have a healthy cycle that lasts around five to seven days, but it was quite abrupt this time. However, the flow was normal during the two days that I bled. I haven't even had any other symptoms. I do feel bloated most of the time, and there is a discomfort in my lower abdomen from time to time. Still, I attributed it to my irregular flow last month. As you had told me that it was fairly normal for our body to adjust the menstrual cycle after anaemia and hormonal treatment gradually, I hadn't given it much thought."

"What about your menstruation this month?" Dr Mitra asked, taking notes on her computer. "Did you bleed? Any Pre-Menstrual Symptoms?"

Mrinalini shook her head. "I was due 4 days ago, but there had been some cramping and spotting, so I thought that it was just a delay as it falls in the normal range of fluctuations in the menstrual cycle."

Dr Mitra sighed, shaking her head. "We must keep a level head and start redoing the blood tests. Get a urine test done at a pathological lab instead of the home test kit. I expect you to show me the reports by the day after. If the reports are positive, we'll proceed with your first ultrasound. Have you discussed the possibility of your pregnancy with Debarghya?"

"No doctor," she replied. "I am waiting for a concrete report before I speak to him."

"I also need to ask you if you are considering any options of terminating your pregnancy," Dr Mitra asked gravely. "If this is something you are contemplating, I request you to keep me in the loop and move forward with proper medical advice rather than doing something irrational that can affect your health. Please do not take any medication till the tests are done, especially any contraception or those abortion pills they sell."

"I won't be considering any options to terminate, doctor," Mrinalini informed Dr Mitra with conviction. "If the tests reveal that I am expecting, I will go forward with the pregnancy."

"That is good," the doctor replied, printing out Mrinalini's prescription and signing at the end. "Get the tests done from a reputed diagnostic centre. There is one near Hazra, but I think that may be far for you, so check out your options. I am chalking you in for an appointment at around 6.30 pm on the 20th. I will be expecting your reports."

It was evening by the time Mrinalini exited the doctor's chamber. She researched some diagnostic centres that she could go to near her office for convenience and stopped by to collect a urine collection cup for the test that she would need to undergo the next day. She wondered how she would explain the bandaid on her arm to Debarghya when she would go home the following evening after the blood test. She hated that she was hiding it from him, but she wasn't prepared yet to discuss it with him, especially not until she was sure.

The metro was crowded, yet Mrinalini felt alone as she stared into the void, thoughts swimming around in the confines of her moment. She held onto one of the rails hanging from the ceiling, clutching her bag with her free hand, as a sudden lurch caused the woman standing behind her to crash into her, almost throwing her off.

"I am so sorry," the woman apologised. Mrinalini nodded, straightening and composing herself. Her eyes instinctively wandered to her belly, and she gulped anxiously. She didn't know yet for sure if she was expecting, but the fear that she felt at that moment at almost being thrown onto the floor on her abdomen was too palpable to ignore. 

A part of her knew that she wasn't prepared to have a baby. Although married for over three years, she has developed a sense of responsibility and has matured beyond her years. However, undertaking additional duties as a mother while still pursuing her education and handling a job seemed overwhelming. Her last conversation with Debarghya regarding family planning never featured plans for them to have a baby. They agreed to let another couple of years transpire before they started trying. Debarghya had concerns and qualms about him growing older, but he also understood Mrinalini's reasoning, citing her age and plans. She knew they were financially stable enough to raise a child, but was she physically?

Mrinalini wasn't averse to the idea of having a baby. She had been prepared for impending motherhood from the beginning of her marriage but had always wanted it to be on her terms rather than sudden. Would she be utterly devastated if she did turn out to be pregnant?

She let out a heavy sigh as the metro halted at her stop. The automated doors opened, and she stepped out carefully, minding the gap between the door and the platform. Hundreds of passengers who had just alighted made their way towards the exit, silent like her, but their footsteps echoing underground. Some of them chattered away, probably discussing their plans for the evening, while others contemplated the list of chores they had to attend to in the confines of their mind. Perhaps some of them had children and were eager to answer the millions of dubious queries at the dining table, or maybe there were examinations they had to help prepare for. 

Life seemed so fast and busy, yet so slow, mundane, and simple in its own right. Was that what awaited their future? Mrinalini couldn't help but wonder. Perhaps it wouldn't be as complicated as she had thought. Millions of people across the globe do it every day. They know how to handle a job and their children. They found it in themselves to work all day, return home, and still find the energy to cook for their family and care for their children's needs. Some jobs could be more demanding than others, and in her case, the research required for her PhD was extensive and would demand a huge chunk of her time, but could she still not find it in herself to put in every ounce of effort into being the mother that she wanted her child to have?

"It is too early," her mind reasoned. "With the schedule that I have, a pregnancy will be physically crippling."

"But it's also a blessing," another part of her whispered. "You never wanted an extraordinary life. All you wanted was normalcy in the form of a family, stability, and the freedom to pursue your desired career. Motherhood was never not a part of the life that you envisioned for yourself. What difference will it make? You'll still pursue your research, and life will continue as it is written in the books of destiny."

Shaking her head to snap out of the mental conundrum that clouded her senses, Mrinalini blinked twice. She focused on the list of groceries that had to be restocked at home. She needed more time before she could go back home. Channelling all the optimism that she could muster, she smiled at herself and headed towards a small cafe nearby that she frequented on days that she needed a boost, and today, she definitely did. The baristas working there were familiar with her and knew her orders by heart. If it was a day that she craved something cold, cold coffee with an extra shot was her go-to, and if it were a hot beverage that she sought the warm embrace of, it would be a flat white. 

As it was a reasonably warm day, she opted for a cold coffee without ice, preferring the creamy texture of the slightly cold beverage to soothe a part of herself that needed consolation. Sipping the drink through a straw from the disposable cup she had been served in, she retraced her steps home with baby steps, stopping by the grocery store by the corner to buy the staples the household was running short on. 

She could figure out things when the time called for it. For now, the moment she was living in was hers to cherish. She had chores to complete and research papers to review. Contemplating the future faded into the dark as Mrinalini went about her work. 

She had tomorrow and the day after. She could handle what life had to offer.

...

20th February

The twilight welcomed the onset of the night through pink hues that littered the sky. The sun was going down the horizon, and the busy streets of the City of Joy witnessed impatient traffic as officegoers made their way back home after a tiring day at work. It was Friday, and rush hour was thronging with people, some rushing to complete errands while others pondered plans for the weekend. 

For Mrinalini, though, it was neither the weekend nor the night that worried her; it was the future that awaited. She clutched the hard copy of the blood and urine test reports that she had taken the day before, her heart thumping against her chest in nervous anticipation. The waiting room at Dr Mitra's chamber thronged with patients, some of whom had come by alone while others had come in with their husbands. 

Mrinalini felt a pang in her chest. She missed having Debaghya around her at that moment, but she had decided not to share anything with him till she had a concrete answer regarding her situation. A part of her felt guilty. He had seen a small bandaid in the crook of her arm the night before and had enquired. She had made up an excuse about having drawn some blood to volunteer for research, which was only partially true. She had been reticent and evaded several questions from him when asked if she was well and if something was bothering her. 

It had been 40 minutes since Mrinalini had arrived at the doctor's. She had been waiting since her nervousness building with each minute. She had been too nervous to check her reports and had decided to wait until the doctor could confirm. She was called in around 20 minutes later, and the ominous silence that descended in the small room was deafening. 

"Mrinalini, the reports substantiate your initial conclusion," Dr Mitra announced without bothering to add a preamble. "You are pregnant. We need to do an ultrasound to figure out how far along, and I will be prescribing you medication, namely, prenatal vitamins and some more supplements."

"When will the ultrasound be done, doctor?" Mrinalini asked in a whisper. She wasn't too shocked as she had willed her mind to make peace with whatever the reports conveyed. She had yet to feel the brunt of the news entirely, but it was easier to stay calm rather than drive herself into a frenzy. 

"We can do it now," Dr Mitra confirmed. "The radiology department is just across from my chamber. Just take this chit with you. I have written the instructions for the technician. You should receive the comprehensive report by tomorrow, but they'll give you the film immediately. Bring me that, and then we'll have a chat. Don't be worried. I'll brief you about everything."

"Thank you, doctor," she replied with a slight smile. "I'll come back to you with the U.S.G. film."

...

Half an hour stretched on for Mrinalini, seeming unbearable. She retreated further into the cold table, feeling the wand of the U.S.G. machine spread the cold gel further onto her abdomen, the pressure feeling unfamiliar and apprehensive. 

"Don't stiffen your body," the friendly voice of the technician told her gently. "It's okay to be nervous. First pregnancies are scary."

Mrinalini smiled gratefully. "Am I supposed to hear my baby's heartbeat?" she asked anxiously at the stillness that was discernible. "Why can I not see or hear anything?"

The aged technician smiled again. "I don't know how far along you are, but there is some time before you can hear the fetal heartbeat. From my guess and experience, you still seem to be in the preliminary stages of the first trimester, given the embryo size. Do you see that part of your uterine wall? Do you see something that looks like a ball? A dark and grainy portion different from the rest of the imaging? That is the embryo. Your baby."

Stunned into silence, Mrinalini observed the moving imaging on the screen, squinting at the grainy quality to figure out her baby's features. A small smile graced her lips as she made out the dark ball-like section the technician had guided her to look out for.

"I'll get you the film in 5 minutes. The report will be available once the radiologist is done reviewing it. You can expect it to be emailed to you by around noon tomorrow."

...

"I would say that you are around 5 weeks along. That is usually long enough to figure out a pregnancy, but you did mention bleeding last month, so that explains it," Dr Mitra quipped, looking at the film that was propped up on the whiteboard with lights to facilitate clear viewing.

"There was also some spotting last week, doctor. Is that supposed to be normal?" Mrinalini asked, raising her concern. "It's not unusual, but it is best to monitor the number of times there is any spotting or bleeding, and any sign of heavy bleeding could be catastrophic. It would help if you are very careful. Do not skip breakfast, and take your vitamins on time. Your blood pressure is still high, which I recommend you work on. Do not take any medications that you aren't sure about, right from painkillers to any medicine that may be an antidepressant or otherwise. Before we move on, you are sure about this pregnancy, right?"

Mrinalini nodded. "Yes, doctor, I am."

There was conviction despite the slight quiver in her voice. "I couldn't help but notice that Debarghya isn't here. It would help if you spoke to him, especially about the bleeding. He is a man with immense experience in pharmaceuticals. He'll know which medicines to abstain from taking during your pregnancy. Also, bring him here during all your subsequent appointments. This is a tumultuous time for any woman, especially the first time. You will need support and additional care."

"I can still travel normally, right, doctor?" she asked, thinking about the mandatory monthly trips to New Delhi. "Absolutely. You are free to travel without issues until much later, when you are in the advanced stages of the third trimester. However, please do not exert yourself too much physically. Carry something handy with you to eat, like dark chocolate or a granola bar or something, at all times. You must munch on something in case you feel dizzy or a sudden drop in blood pressure. Have you experienced any nausea or sickness yet?"

"No, doctor," Mrinalini replied hesitantly. "The smells in the refrigerator did seem a bit off-putting in the morning, though."

"That is normal, my dear," Dr Mitra explained gently. "You are embarking on a journey that has its ups and downs as it progresses, both physiologically and psychologically. Be prepared for it. I know that we have work to do and a lot of commitments. Just ensure you don't ignore your health in the process. The baby is entirely dependent on you and derives its health and well-being from you. You must give yourself enough attention and pay heed to any minor issue. We'll schedule the next appointment in around three weeks from now. After that, we'll meet once a month till you hit the nine-month mark. Do you have any further questions?"

"No, doctor," Mrinalini replied. "I'll get in touch with you should anything happen. Thank you."

"Take care, my dear."

...

It was close to midnight. The night was serene and calm. As the cold weather of the winter was gradually transitioning into the warmth of spring that would pave the way to the unbearable summer heat, the air conditioning in most households had resumed operations after a two-month break. It was the same in the Acharya home, and Mrinalini had retreated beneath the duvet as soon as she got into bed, seeking the warm and soft comfort over the frigid chill of their room. 

She waited nervously for Debarghya to come to bed, trying to figure out how she would break the news to him. It always seemed so easy when pregnancies were revealed and announced in movies, daily soaps, or even in books, but it seemed so difficult in reality. She tested numerous permutations and combinations of words and phrases in her mind, but each sounded weirder than the previous. Was she supposed to narrate the incident that led her to discover what she did, or was she just supposed to let him know the conclusion?

She scrolled the internet on her phone for some ideas on how to reveal to your husband that you are having a baby and found extravagant Western ideas that seemed too overboard for their conservative Indian upbringing. She took a deep breath, keeping her phone away, irritated by the unhelpful, almost objectionable ideas. She finally narrowed down on a couple of straightforward lines that would initiate the conversation, rehearsing it in her mind, using a nonchalant tone. 

Time stretched on excruciatingly for what seemed like hours to Mrinalini, fueling her anxiety and nervousness before she could finally hear Debarghya enter their bedroom. She held her breath till the mattress dipped beside her, and she could sense his warm and steady breathing over the air conditioner's soft hum in the darkness. 

"Are you listening?" she whispered into the dark, her hand reaching to touch his bare arm. He murmured an affirmative response, turning slightly to face her. "We need to talk about something," she began without a preamble. "Do you remember the night before you left for Jamshedpur last month?"

"Yes. You were in pain and ended up calling me all sorts of names for being unable to pack a damned bag without your help. What about it?" Debarghya replied, recalling vaguely, his tone only slightly teasing. "Did the pain recur or something?"

Mrinalini bit her lip, unsure of which direction the conversation was going. "Um, that pain is apparently normal in women. Occurs typically between two menstrual cycles and is an indication of..."

"Of what?" he quipped as her voice trailed off. "Of ovulation," she whispered in exasperation.

"Oh, I see," he replied, incredulity and embarrassment apparent in his tone. "So, is there a way to mitigate the pain?"

"Debarghya, I am pregnant," she blurted out, unable to put it off further. "We were intimate that night. We didn't use protection, and then..."

She proceeded to vomit every little detail of what had transpired in the last three days, starting with the research for which she had volunteered and the subsequent results, followed by the home pregnancy test and the blood test, urine test, ultrasound, and doctor's appointment that followed. She also explained in one breath why she hadn't suspected it before and was caught as unaware as him. 

"Can you say something, please?" she whispered, unable to bear the silence. She was grateful for the darkness in their bedroom that allowed her the privacy of letting out a stream of tears without fear of judgment or explanation. "Why didn't you tell me all this before, Mrinal? I could have gone to the doctor's with you?" he asked, breaking the heavy silence. "What did the doctor say about it all? About the bleeding? The baby's okay, right?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Bleeding during pregnancy isn't unheard of. The baby's fine. I have the film from the U.S.G. Do you want to see it?"

Debarghya's nod was barely perceptible, but Mrinalini suppressed a smile as she felt him get up, reaching out to turn on the bedside light. 

"So it just happened?" he marvelled as he looked at the film that had been kept underneath a book on the small study table in their room. "I guess destiny has its weird ways," Mrinalini replied, holding his hand. "It is unexpected, but we can do it, right?"

"I should be asking you this, Mrinal," he replied, looking at his wife with disbelief and uncertainty still visible on his features. "You have just started with your doctorate."

"I won't lie and say that it will be easy, Debarghya," she sighed in response. "But I can't bear to choose a career over our baby. It is perhaps easier to say now than when I will face this in reality, but... It took me a while to process, so I couldn't tell you while it was happening. I had to make peace with this situation, accept it, and convince myself that it is happening and that I can do it. I can still complete my doctorate, and yes, it may take me some more time, but I won't let the baby's presence or arrival make me convince myself that I am a victim of circumstances. I feel unprepared today, but I know that we can do it. You said it the last time: we can go the family way now. We are ready financially and more. We'll continue to grow, just with an anchor to remind us where home is."

Debarghya smiled slightly, pulling Mrinalini close and pressing his lips against her temple.

"Don't compromise with your dreams, Mrinal," he whispered, his breath warm against her head. "It can make you bitter and angry from within. You can put up a facade, but it will tear you apart internally, often making you hate yourself."

"I won't," Mrinalini promised. "I have an added motivation now. I need to let my baby know that individual dreams and goals matter. They'll never learn if we don't set a good precedent. Sacrifice is a part of life and family, but so is following one's heart."

"I never imagined this would happen this way," she could hear him confess. "I didn't know it would be easy for us to transition into parenthood."

She remained silent, knowing in her heart that the transition was still underway and that a lot awaited them. After all, it had been simple when spoken aloud, but the conflicting feelings that still reeled within were reminiscent of all the emotions that had been kept suppressed.

Life was incomplete without the wrath of destiny playing its ace. Serendipity had a way of testing an individual's resolve. What was better? Resistance or the acquiescent embrace that they made peace with?

Alas, some questions had no answers. Perhaps time would tell.

...

26th February

"The milk has gone bad," Mrinalini announced as she pressed her palm to her nose, preventing the wave of nausea that made her want to gag at the stench. "Can you hurry down to the store and buy a tetra pack? I don't have time to boil and cool milk another time. I need to leave for work in half an hour."

Debarghya sighed. He had to go to work, too, and they had to have breakfast. Earlier, Mrinalini would often leave the house without eating anything other than a cup of coffee she made herself in the morning, promising to have something later. Still, since they had come to know of her pregnancy, she had made it a point to follow the doctor's advice and always left home after having a filling breakfast. She hadn't experienced morning sickness yet and was grateful for the small mercy. 

"The milk hasn't gone bad, Mrinal," Debarghya said as he checked what Mrinalini had pointed out. "It is quite alright. Maybe you are getting a repulsive reaction to it."

"I can't have this," Mrinalini said as she dry-heaved, recoiling in disgust. "I'll just have some toast. You can use this if you want, but this smells bad to me."

"Don't linger around here gagging," he told her agitatedly. "I'll get the toast for you. Go and sit at the dining table."

Mrinalini wasted no time in rushing out of the kitchen. She could hear her mother-in-law read hymns in Goddess Lakshmi's praise in her room as she did every Thursday without fail. The small copper vessel that had the holy Swastika drawn on it was filled to the brim with water, topped with a five-leaf clover from the mango tree, a heart-shaped betel leaf, a betel nut, and a small banana, all of which was adorned with some vermillion. It is a ritual common in all Bengali Hindu households in honour of the Goddess of wealth and prosperity. It is done by the women to ensure an abundance of food, happiness, sufficient wealth, and prosperity in their homes. 

Mrinalini smiled silently, closing her eyes, absorbing the familiar words as Debjani droned on. She knew the ritual by heart, and as the conch was blown thrice, emanating a purifying vibration across their home, she touched her forehead with folded hands, paying obeisance to the Goddess, thankful for the blessings.

"Here you go, Mrinal," Debarghya's voice brought her out of her reverie. "I made you some plain toast with some Nutella. I didn't use butter because I wasn't sure if that would make you gag. Eat it. It is nearly 8.40. We need to leave soon."

"Thank you," Mrinalini acknowledged with a smile. "Are you still using that milk with your cereal?"

"I finished it off in the kitchen itself," he replied. "I didn't want you to be repulsed again while eating breakfast."

They ate in silence. Debarghya skimmed through the newspaper as Mrinalini scrolled something on her phone, frowning slightly.

"We haven't told anyone yet," she said, drawing his attention. "You've been busy with your closing for this month, and I got engaged with work. We need to inform your mother first."

"I thought you already did," he replied, putting the newspaper aside. "What about your mother? Does she know yet?"

Mrinalini shook her head. "I thought you'd inform Ma."

Debarghya looked shell-shocked. He gulped before exclaiming, "That would be embarrassing! I can't tell her. Why don't you?"

"And you think it won't be embarrassing for me?" she replied, amazed at his absurdity. "She's your mother. You tell her. I'll tell mine."

"But Mrinal," he continued. "I have no idea how."

Mrinalini glared at him. "I don't have years of experience with this either. All I know is that you are responsible for letting Ma know, and I'll let my mother and grandmother know when I speak to them next."

"How about procrastinating a bit? We can take Ma to your next appointment and surprise her," he suggested. Mrinalini rolled her eyes in response. "Come on, Debarghya. Letting our mothers know shouldn't be this difficult. We haven't sinned, have we?"

He sighed defeatedly. "Alright, I'll tell her tonight."

"Thank you," Mrinalini replied. "Now finish eating, for God's sake. We are going to be late."

...

"Mrinal, can you at least accompany me to Ma's room?" Debarghya asked her that evening. They had just finished their dinner, and Debjani retired to her room. "We are in this together, aren't we? It would just be a little less awkward. I know Ma will be happy, but I don't know how to break the news to her."

"How about being straightforward?" Mrinalini suggested. "We aren't going to share some bad news. You are her elder son, her eldest child, and this is something to be happy about, right?"

He nodded as they made their way towards the other bedroom. Debarghya knocked once before opening the door slightly, waiting for his mother's gesture to invite them in. He felt like a giddy child over again rather than a fully grown man on his way to fatherhood. Mrinalini followed, immediately moving to sit beside Debjani on the bed, smiling slightly, waiting for her husband to speak.

Debarghya muted the television in the room hesitantly. "Ma, there is something that we wanted to share with you."

"The two of you aren't moving out, are you?" Debjani asked, interrupting her son. "I am okay with you not being there for a few days in a month, but please don't tell me you are getting a transfer or something."

"No, Ma, we aren't going anywhere," Mrinalini answered her mother-in-law in a patient and reassuring manner. "He wants to speak about something else."

"What is it?" Debjani asked impatiently. As a woman who had experienced and tolerated a lot of bad news over the years, it was impossible for her to stay calm and anticipate something good. She was prone to nightmares that would lead her to go about the home wildly, sometimes sprinkling water from the holy Ganges or even lighting a lamp at odd hours to placate herself. Mrinalini had seen several such instances since her wedding. Although it had been strange to see an educated woman being prone to religious hysterics, she had made peace knowing that she had good intentions.

 "It isn't bad news, Ma," Debarghya told his mother. "Calm down."

"Tell me what it is, son."

"Mrinalini is expecting a child. We are going to be parents, Ma," he replied. "You are going to be a grandmother soon."

Debjani took a while to absorb the news. Her face broke into a smile as she reached out to embrace her daughter-in-law. "Congratulations, Deb," she told her son, still holding on to Mrinalini. "Can you please take me to the temple this Saturday? I need to thank the Almighty for this blessing."

Mrinalini smiled at her mother-in-law's excitement and happiness, looking at Debarghya contentedly. "We'll all go there, Ma," he replied. 

"Don't let everyone know just yet," Debjani warned before the two of them could leave her room. "It is auspicious news, but it is important to keep things private for some time to ensure we don't get affected by anyone's evil eye."

"Come on, Ma," Debarghya replied in exasperation, having had this conversation with his mother multiple times in the past. Being an ardent follower of Marx, as was the case with a lot of the youth in Bengal, his Communist ideals were often the cause of a clash with his mother's beliefs. He was not an acute atheist but firmly believed that there was a Supreme Power that looked over the world but wasn't the cause of division and, quite often, illogical belief, illiteracy, and lack of awareness that prevailed in society. "All that is stupid superstition. You are asking us to keep a pregnancy private? How is that even practical?"

Mrinalini kept her hand on his shoulder, speaking in a low voice, "She is elder to us, Debarghya. She is right. I know you don't believe in this, but what's the harm in keeping this under wraps for some time? People around us will know soon, but till then, let's heed Ma and keep this to ourselves and within the family."

Debarghya conceded, though clearly upset. "Alright, Ma, we'll keep this to ourselves for now, but I hope we can let Mrinalini's mother and grandmother know, and I would appreciate it if we also share the news with Brishti and Rishi. They are our family, Ma."

Debjani nodded. "I'll let them know, son, and your aunts too. The neighbours and your colleagues would know in a couple of months, but the first few weeks of pregnancy are crucial, and I don't want to rejoice too soon lest someone's evil eye destroys our joy."

"We'll take care of that, Ma," Mrinalini reassured her mother-in-law, answering on her husband's behalf. The two of them left silently, bidding Debjani a good night.

...

21st February

Mrinalini was back in New Delhi. She had awoken to a warm and foggy morning with nausea overwhelming her senses. Unlike what most women complained of, morning sickness didn't come to her in spurts of vomiting but instead through nausea and sickness that seemed to last most of the day. It had gradually set in with the progress of her pregnancy. Her appetite was severely fluctuating, and although she craved spicy and sour food, the time that bouts of sickness hit her was brutal.

It was afternoon, and in the institute's canteen, all she could do was hold herself together as she nibbled on a bland piece of toast with butter, thanking the heavens that although tedious, the smell wasn't repulsive or nauseating. 

"Hey, Mrinalini," she heard Chitra greet her as she came over to take a seat across from her, carrying a plate and a tiffin carrier that she had gotten from home. "How are you holding up? And what's with the toast at lunch? That doesn't look very filling to me."

Mrinalini managed a small smile. "I got the tests redone. Congratulations to me, I suppose. Hence, the toast at lunch. I can barely stomach anything with spice, although that is all I am craving right now."

"Congratulations," Chitra replied. "I hope you are happy. It is a huge decision on your part to proceed with a pregnancy right after you started your PhD."

"I don't think it is a big deal, Chitra," Mrinalini confessed. "The society we live in has seen much younger women becoming mothers and handling careers simultaneously. And I know it isn't about my age, but even with my goals and objectives, I think I can do what billions of women do daily."

"Of course," Chitra agreed. "But that doesn't topple the fact that no one would have the guts to do something like this if they had a choice. Responsibility is sometimes imposed but never accepted at heart. I have been married for around 2 years now, but having a baby isn't on my to-do list anytime in the future."

"Your husband and in-laws are okay with this decision?" Mrinalini asked before she could stop herself. "I am sorry. I don't mean to be invasive, but the question suddenly came to my mind. Please do not answer it if you are uncomfortable."

Chitra shrugged, waving a hand at Mrinalini. "I don't mind. I have never wanted to be a mother, which is a choice I made for myself long before my marriage or courtship with Amit. We had a love marriage and didn't discuss kids until much later, but I told him I was quite adamant about my decision. He hasn't opposed it, although it did take him some time to accept. As for my in-laws, we haven't told them yet, but they know better than to expect us to go the family way at the drop of a hat simply because they want us to. We stay separately and live independently, coming together only for festivals. This has helped us maintain a cordial relationship aware of boundaries, love, and mutual respect, which is enough for me."

Mrinalini smiled at the stark difference between her and the slightly older woman who had dedicated her life and abilities to hardcore research. They both had blissful lives with their share of struggles and vividly different families. While Mrinalini had a close-knit bond with her in-laws as they shared space and tended to spend more time together, Chitra had a good bond with her family despite the separate ideologies or lifestyles. They were both successfully navigating their professional and personal lives, each content with the choices, decisions, and impositions that destiny had brought forth. It wasn't easy in any context for either of them, but as long as life could still be something they enjoyed living and cherished, it didn't matter what the world around them thought.

"Have you discussed your pregnancy and your upcoming plans with Dr Matthews and Zain yet?" Chitra asked her as she broke off a piece of the roti she had brought from home for lunch, offering some to Mrinalini, who politely refused.

"I haven't told them or anyone besides immediate family yet," Mrinalini confessed. "I'd appreciate it if you could keep this confidential, too. I am not ready yet to let everyone around me know that I am pregnant. It is a huge transition period for me, so I'd rather take it step-by-step with proper measures and planning. Anyway, I have quite a few months in hand before travelling to New Delhi from Kolkata becomes an issue."

"I understand," Chitra replied. "It may take some time for it all to fall into place, but don't you worry, it will. Also, call me when you are free in the evening. Let's grab coffee together. We can go to Connaught Place. I'll drive you back to the hostel afterwards. As a responsible Delhite, it is my duty and honour to show you around my beautiful city."

"Thanks, Chitra," Mrinalini replied with a smile, glad to have made a friend in an unknown city. "Let's catch up in the evening." 

...

11th March

It was Anumegha and Sreejit's wedding anniversary. Debarghya, Mrinalini, Debjani, and Debrishi, who had flown in from Bengaluru to surprise everyone, were at Anumegha's marital home for the celebratory party they were hosting. 

Anumegha's two-year-old son, Archisman, or Riddhi, who had recently learned how to drive everyone crazy with his endless antics, provided classic entertainment as he threw things everywhere while his mother chased him. 

"Riddhi, come back here right now, or I won't allow you to watch television tomorrow. Not even your favourite cartoon show. Stop running," Anumegha bellowed, inciting a giggle from Mrinalini. "If you don't return here in a minute, I am not giving you cake either."

Debjani shook her head, a fond smile gracing her lips. She leaned in towards Mrinalini and confided, "I never thought this crazy girl I birthed would be metting out threats to her child to get him to behave. She was much naughtier and difficult to keep in check than her brothers, which is saying something. When she was born, everyone told me that you had welcomed Goddess Lakshmi into your family, and the way she was felt like I had given birth to some hurricane or tempest. Responsibilities and age make even the most stubborn ones grow wiser."

"What are you hoping for, Boudi?" Debrishi asked his sister-in-law, joining the conversation. "A boy or a girl?"

Mrinalini smiled, tapping her lower abdomen lightly. She wasn't showing yet, as she was only in the advanced stages of the first trimester. "I haven't given it much thought recently," she confessed. "Although if I look back at those times as a dreamy teenager, I would always hope to have a little girl. I don't mind if she is not calm and collected as a child. Children are meant to be free-spirited and wild, but yes, I'd definitely pray to be blessed with a daughter."

"You hurt the emotions of us boys, Boudi," Debrishi said, faking to be hurt. "I really don't know why sons are ignored. I'll go and find my nephew now. Brishti di's warning screams are starting to hurt my ears. The poor boy's probably terrified and looking around for his favourite uncle by now."

Debjani scoffed at her son's words. "You'd be his favourite if you care to stay around more. How do you expect to forge a bond with a little child who has seen you only thrice or so in two years?"

"Come on, Ma," Debrishi sighed. "You know that coming down from Bengaluru isn't easy. I will complete my M.B.A. in a couple of months, and once I start my job, it will only get tougher for me to go down to my hometown. It is more difficult for me than you know, but I am doing my best to manage alone, am I not? Do you think it makes me happy to stay away from the only family I've known and not to be able to spend time with my only nephew? Or miss out on the childhood of the niece or nephew who's going to arrive in a few months?"

"Go and find my grandson," Debjani replied, putting a swift end to the conversation. Like most Indian mothers, it pained her to be unable to see her son more often and being the youngest, Debrishi had always been the apple of everyone's eye. Now that she barely got to see him twice a year, it was hurtful and often a bitter topic of discussion with her son, who had more pain and longing than malice. "And you'd better pray for a child that isn't going to drive you crazy, my child," she addressed Mrinalini. "Trust me, I have done it thrice, and it gets more troubling than loving after a certain point."

Mrinalini laughed. "How the child will grow is something we'll have to see and face, Ma. There's no way to alter anything, but there's still a long way to go. I need my baby to be healthy and happy more than every other factor that may concern me later."

...

"Debarghya, you can't hide the fact that you went up to the terrace for a smoke," Mrinalini began with a preamble as she heard Debarghya open their bedroom door to enter. "I heard the front door opening. Why did you lie to me?"

Debarghya looked at Mrinalini sheepishly. "It wasn't me. It must have been Rishi. You know he smokes."

"You promised me that you'll quit smoking before the baby is born," Mrinalini whispered in an accusatory tone. "I do not want our child to be exposed to anything harmful, which includes passive smoking. And it isn't good for your health either. Do you realise that being a father is a responsibility you must take more seriously? Do you plan on falling sick and escaping familial duties and obligations? Do you want your child to have a normal childhood or not? Or perhaps you'd feel better if you found a partner to share a cigarette with? What if our baby grows to become a chain smoker or, worse, a drug addict?"

"Shhh, Mrinal," Debarghya shushed gently, stopping her rant. "You are going years ahead in time. Our baby isn't here yet."

Mrinalini wiped off the tears that had welled in her eyes, threatening to spill. She had been touchier more often than before, and the stress of work combined with household responsibilities and her pregnancy made her go overboard with her emotions. "Please don't smoke, Debarghya. We are nearing the completion of four years of our marriage, which is one thing I have been begging you to do. We have an added responsibility now. I know you have a stressful job, but smoking cannot be the only solution. Please don't do this to yourself or us."

"Mrinal," Debarghya began patiently. "I know I have promised you, and I am working on it. I hadn't smoked in 17 days, and I paved under pressure today, but I assure you that by the time the baby's here, each cigarette packet and lighter that may be around will be thrown into the trash. It isn't something I can let go of entirely overnight. It's been four years, but I have somehow managed to relapse each time. This time, I have more reasons to take this seriously, to be motivated enough to manage stress and survive without threatening my health. I am trying, okay? I promise that I am."

His words and tone were sincere, and although Mrinalini had some qualms, given his previous relapses, she believed him. 

...

20th April

Mrinalini was engrossed in packing her bag for her monthly trip to New Delhi. She was due to leave the following day and had a busy week ahead.

"Did you speak to your PhD guide and mentor regarding your pregnancy, Mrinal?" she heard Debarghya ask her. It was evening, and he had returned home a while ago, only managing to freshen up and change out of his work clothes. "You will be needing time off work and at the institute."

"I am yet to speak to him, Debarghya," Mrinalini confessed. "Ma asked us to keep my pregnancy private, so other than Chitra, that researcher who had first intimated me of my possible pregnancy, no one at the institute knows. And I am worried. I don't think they'll pay me the partial stipend they are paying now during my maternity leave. The baby's arrival will call for so many added expenses. Won't it be difficult for us?"

"We'll manage," Debarghya replied pensively. "The stipend you get is barely enough for your trips to New Delhi anyway. We can make do with the rest."

"I was thinking I could take the baby with me and go to New Delhi," Mrinalini suggested. "I do not mean immediately, but maybe after a couple of months instead of taking an elaborate maternity leave of six months. I have my personal space in the accommodations and can easily manage my baby. Newborns, anyway, sleep for long hours at a stretch. I can easily manage to feed and change the baby timely. They have designated spaces arranged for the same."

 "Let's revisit this topic once the baby is born and we've both tasted parenthood?" Debarghya responded, wincing at his wife's idea. "And please go and speak to your supervisor. You are through the first trimester and have just commenced the second. It won't be long before it becomes apparent to those around you. You will also need assistance gradually, and to have your colleagues know would only help. Someone will have to look out for you while you are away from home."

"I can manage by myself, Debarghya," Mrinalini reasoned. "And if I need something while I am in New Delhi, I have colleagues willing to help. Don't worry about this yet. Millions of women manage a pregnancy, and I can do the same. Some manage without the support of friends and family. I have you and everyone else with me. What can happen?"

"It is our first time experiencing this," Debarghya replied, rubbing his nape sheepishly. "I can't help but panic a little bit. I was reading that pregnancy book that you bought for yourself, and there are so many testimonials that fuel my worry."

Mrinalini rolled her eyes. "Relax. We'll be okay."

...

25th April

The conference organised by the Council of Scientific and Industrial Research (CSIR) of the Government of India in collaboration with the National Forensic Sciences University was in full swing at the hot and sweltering capital of India, given the shocking heatwave that had citizens fuming, praying and begging for relief. 

Mrinalini was prepared with her team consisting of Dr Matthews, Zain, and a young Master's student in his first year, Michael, to present their paper on Slow Lethal Organic Poisons that could catalyse effects of certain chemicals and lead to inevitable death. Numerous case studies had been considered, and the preliminary data had been Mrinalini's work, as her experience at the CFSL in Kolkata had been imperative for the research premise and progression.

The paper had details and numerous breakthroughs that could potentially lead to further discoveries, presenting an entirely different aspect to possible culpable homicides that may or may not amount to murder, depending on an individual's motive and modus operandus. There were numerous dignitaries attending the conference, and for Mrinalini, it was an experience that made her giddy and jittery, combined with nervousness and excitement.

To be able to present her research work in front of incredible dignitaries and distinguished individuals who were adept at their respective fields of research was an achievement that was only barely fathomable to her as a realised dream. Her voice quivered slightly as she began the presentation, introducing her group and their respective backgrounds and elaborating on the research premise, motivation, and abstract. Still, sheer confidence radiated through her entire being as she regarded the eyes of the audience on her, listening with rapt attention. Even as she finished presenting her part and stepped off the podium to let Dr Matthews continue, through her racing heart and borderline breathlessness, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen that made her want to double over for a moment. 

She gasped silently, suppressing the vocal wince that would have interrupted their presentation. It was an important day, and she couldn't afford to fall remotely short of an impeccable demonstration for herself and her team. A wave of nausea followed, and her eyes welled with tears as she gagged, suppressing the urge to throw up. She pressed her inner wrist to her nose, breathing in the mild scent of the perfume she had applied in the morning, willing her nausea to pass. The heat and her pregnancy, combined with the stress, sweat, dehydration, and discomfort for the past week, had taken a toll on her and was threatening to ruin the final result of the immense hard work that she had put in with her team members.

"Don't throw up," she kept on repeating to herself, trying to speak to her baby in vain, convincing them to calm down, promising rest later on, fully aware that the fetus had yet to develop ears or the cognitive ability to understand their mother. 

"I can take over for you, Mrinalini," Zain whispered as he regarded his perceptibly unwell colleague. "You can take a break. There's still some time before your turn comes up. Dr Matthews is still explaining the previous research that has been done. Michael and I will be covering the procedure and formulae. I can manage to brief them about the data collection and pre-processing, too. You can take over the results and subsequent potential areas for research."

Mrinalini nodded gratefully, rushing out as gracefully as possible, heading straight for the women's restroom at the end of the long and silent corridor on the 3rd floor of the building where the conference was being organised in the seminar hall. 

She opened a stall in the restroom haphazardly, doubling over the western commode in pain, the pungent taste of bile rising in her throat, hurling her guts out helplessly. She shivered through the tears that fell with the physical agony that coursed through her body. 

Several minutes later, she managed to get up and clean herself, making herself look a little presentable, splashing her face with water and dabbing at her bloodshot eyes. She had to bear the pain in her abdomen for a little longer, enough to get her through the presentation. She would get time to go and rest in the hostel later.

Convincing herself, she made her way to the seminar hall with baby steps, entering silently. She regarded the presentation on display as Michael explained the process they had used to extract toxin samples from exhumed bones. She had around 5 minutes to prepare herself mentally before explaining the various conclusions drawn from their research and summarising the areas where there had to be more findings and possible optimisation for the future.

It seemed long, but Mrinalini managed to get through the presentation. Despite the sudden interruption and hiccup, her proactive articulation was appreciated by various senior researchers who stopped by to congratulate the team on their research and give suggestions that could help them ameliorate.

"Mrinalini, I need to speak to you," Dr Matthews informed her later as they packed their things. "It is regarding your condition and the maternity leave that you'll require later."

 Stiffening slightly in anticipatory dread, Mrinalini nodded as she waited patiently for the professor to continue. 

"You will remain a PhD scholar here and will be assisting us with research even while on maternity leave, which will be a period of six months, virtually," Dr Matthews began without ado. "I had a word with the HoD, and while we understand your situation and fully extend our support for the same, we, unfortunately, will not be able to pay you during the months that you cannot come to New Delhi to assist us in the laboratory."

Mrinalini nodded silently. She had expected this when she had broken the news to her mentor three days ago, noticing his repressed reaction of concern and evident agitation at the inconvenience that it could cause their research work. "You are well aware that we usually only pay scholars who are enrolled here full-time while managing a part-time job as a professor. However, given your experience at the CFSL and relevant previous research work, we made an exception for you. However, during the months that you'll be indisposed, you can neither help us in the lab nor take the monthly classes that had been assigned, so I am afraid we have to hold back financially till you can join us back here."

"I understand, professor," Mrinalini replied. "I will try to be as proactive when it comes to research in spite of my condition, and I am grateful to you for the six months that you are offering as maternity leave. I will try my best to ensure I can return to work as soon as possible. And up until September at least, I assure you that I will be working regularly and grinding hard."

"My child," the professor sighed, letting go of some of his cold and distant professionalism. "There is a difference between diligence and stupidity. Do not push yourself beyond your limits. I know that you were severely unwell during the presentation. Please go and rest for now, and even in the months to come, do not push your body beyond its limits. We are meeting with some of the researchers in the evening over dinner. Take some time off till then. We'll meet at the banquet hall."

"Thank you, Sir," she replied gratefully as she exited the seminar hall and picked up her bag and laptop. 

She returned to her hostel room immediately, and as she entered the dismal room with a miserable single bed and dull, whitewashed walls, she bolted the door. The bag slipped off her shoulders as she sank to the ground, hot tears flowing down her cheeks inexplicably. Loud and empty sobs escaped her as the full implication of her physical constraints dawned upon her. 

Up until this point in her pregnancy, she had only managed bloating, nausea, and sickness, but an entire plethora of other physiological changes were awaiting her at the precipice. The pain that she had felt today had been sharp, and the first thing that she had checked was if she was bleeding. She calmed herself down when she discovered no blood on her underpants, relieved that her baby was fine and that the pain she had been experiencing was not indicative of miscarriage, which many women were unfortunately vulnerable to at this stage, especially in their first pregnancies.

She felt her phone ring and noticed it was a call from Rai. Picking up the phone hesitantly, she greeted her mother with a shaky voice.

"Mini, are you okay?" her mother's voice asked, laced with worry. "I dreamed of you last night, and it worried me. I wanted to call you in the morning, but I remembered your conference. Baby, are you alright? Are you experiencing anything painful or uncomfortable?"

Knowing the anxiety that the truth would cause her mother, Mrinalini chose to avert Rai's questions, saying, "I had a wonderful presentation today, Ma. I felt nauseous when you called, and the heat wasn't helping, so I may have sounded sick. I am absolutely fine. Don't worry about dreams, Ma. How are you doing? Is Thamma better now? She had a bout of severe arthritic pain the last time I had spoken to her."

"We are fine, Mini," Rai replied shortly. "Take rest, sweetheart. Around two decades from now, when your child lies to you about their well-being, you'll know their untruth from the truth, like I know today."

"Ma," Mrinalini began, trying to justify herself. "It is fine, baby," Rai interrupted her. "I know you don't want me to worry, but I am your mother, sweetheart. Worry is an integral part of the job, you know?"

Mrinalini suppressed a feeble smile at her mother's words. "I'll speak to you soon, Ma. I miss you so much."

"I miss you too, my child," Rai replied, her voice thick with emotion that she always attempted to hide. "Take care of my baby and her baby, okay?"

Mrinalini disconnected the call, the lingering relief and momentary happiness from the sweet conversation with her mother dissipating almost immediately as the empty loneliness of the room engulfed her. 

Tears escaped her eyes again, and she lifted herself off the floor, choosing to fall on the bed instead, her body drained, riddled with exhaustion and fatigue. A part of her felt an uncertainty that had been absent before about her ability to become a mother and manage everything. 

Pregnancy was, after all, a challenging period, both physiologically and psychologically, and right now, her resolve had been determined to take both head-on. Alas, the taste of reality made her feel the bitter sting of the acquiescent embrace that she had been engulfed in, making her fall victim to the lonely confines of her mind where self-doubt, depressive and obsessive thoughts, nightmares of failure, and the inability to compete and complete, reigned supreme.

Her body gradually changed, stretching and realigning to accommodate the tiny blessing that had taken root in her womb. The loose flab around her midriff that had often given her complex as a teenager seemed to protrude further as if challenging her to accept the inevitable, uncaring if she was prepared or not. The breasts that weighed her down hurt as the sensitivity was new. The endocrine system that had often seen fluctuations was more unpredictable than ever before, and everything combined seemed too overwhelming for the young, dynamic woman who had dreamed and resolved not to stop despite the circumstances, determined that it was vital for her and her unborn child to know that objectives and goals were essential to an individual and that success was simply a state of mind. She just had to be strong enough to handle it all.

At the moment, though, as Mrinalini lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling blankly, doubt crept in, threatening to oust the optimism she had carefully nurtured in her mind since conceiving the thought of motherhood in her heart. Her lower lip shivered as she hugged herself, clutching her abdomen where an integral part of her future was growing.

"Sometimes I hate myself for being selfish," she whispered. "I wonder why I think so much about how you will affect me and my life. I feel overwhelmed when I think of you in my arms. I am blessed to have you, my little angel, and I love you, but I don't know why it still hurts when my body is incapable of doing something."

She shuddered. "I am worried that if I don't do things now, it may be too late, and then I am overburdened with thoughts of you suffering because of me. I don't know how you are doing now, and I wish I could see. My body no longer feels like mine, and there is a part of me that discerns myself as crippled. I don't want you to be my limitation, baby, but I don't want to be self-centred, either. I am in pain, both mentally and physically. I know I want you and that I will cherish you forever. I'll always strive to give you the world, my baby, but I wonder if a part of myself would fail."

"Your father and I love you so much already. You are our little blessing, aren't you," Mrinalini continued, rubbing her abdomen, willing the warmth in her voice to reach the baby in her womb. "Sometimes, though, your Mumma worries about herself and her sanity. Is that selfish of me? I don't know why I feel so exhausted when my body gives up. You are still months away from seeing this world, and I worry that I won't be able to navigate what awaits you well enough as your mother. I know that you will always be my priority, yet part of me knows that if I don't do what my heart wants me to do, bitterness will seep into my heart and probably tarnish the love that I herald for you, my love."

Mrinalini's throat was dry, and her eyes were hollowed, but she continued talking in silence, venting out the conflicting thoughts that scared her. "I don't know what a perfect mother is, sweetheart, and I am unsure if I can be that for you. I don't understand what will happen to my mind and body right now. From so many things that I have read and heard, you will be heavy on my pelvis."

She laughed at her own words, shaking her head. "And although it may hurt, I know you will make it into the world and light it up for me. I know I am going to be chubbier than I am now and that I'll probably have scars from carrying you. I am so confused and scared, baby. I don't know how much it will hurt or if I will ever be the same person again. I don't know if I can give my career and my child all the time they need simultaneously, which scares me so much. It hurts me to know that I may fail, and I don't want to, for you, for me, and for us."

Mrinalini let another tear slip from the corner of her eye, travelling down her cheek and onto the white linen on the bed. "I am scared that if I fail, you'll end up hating me. I am scared that if I don't succeed in life and my career, I'll not know how important dreams are. I am scared that I may have to choose you over my dreams, and I shall always do so without blinking an eye, but what if I come to regret it later?"

"I don't want you to grow up knowing that there could be a better family you could be born into, not because your father and I are the best for you, but because we want to be enough for you. We want to give it our all to be the parents that you need, and it scares me that you'd grow up and know a woman who birthed and loved you but not someone that you would be proud of. I am scared of disappointing myself, baby, and I am terrified of disappointing you."

The cold silence of the room met Mrinalini's rant as her resolves crumbled again, making her press her face against the pillow, muffling the uncontrollable sobs that wrecked through her body. It wasn't her regret or anger at being pregnant, standing at the threshold of being a mother, but the sole incertitude of the future that was cloudy and vague. 

She had been ready to be a mother and to live her dreams, but the physical and mental strain that the pregnancy was bound to put on her felt extensive. The lonely stillness in the room was almost suffocating. She craved a hug, and she craved companionship. She craved reassurance and a jolt of positivity in that moment.

Alas, she was resigned to drifting off into a dreamless slumber that would awaken her to the quiet reality of the acquiescent embrace that fate had brought into her life. 

The smile and happiness, the fondness, and the love that warmed her heart for her unborn child were real, but so were the uncertainty and self-doubt, hatred, and fear that lingered deep within her conscience.

She just had to hold on and not succumb.

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 16th June 2024

Author's note:

Hi everyone!

I hope you are all doing well. Mrinalini's journey has been immensely special to me. I am a 21-year-old girl who knows nothing about relationships or marriage from first-hand experience. Still, the story of this young woman, a fictional character residing in the mammoth City of Joy, is my take on the various people I have met and interacted with. 

Through this story, I wish to narrate a realistic journey rather than something fictional, which I understand can be overwhelming or perhaps even depressive at specific points. I do not endorse any patriarchal imposition or pseudo-feminist ideals. 

As a woman of this day and age, humanity prevails over every ideology, religion, race, ethnicity, or gender. As humans, our first right is always the right to choose. We are entitled to choose our lives, and it is often essential to dribble on the ambiguity of inevitable situations that we frequently crave and pray to evade, all at the same time. 

This journey of motherhood that Mrinalini is undertaking is not based on any particular individual but simply on the many anonymous souls who suppress conflicting thoughts and put up a happy facade in front of the world. Pregnancy is one of the most physically and mentally challenging periods for any woman, and to have dichotomous thoughts is natural and normal. Depression, both prepartum and post-partum, is normal, and the guilty consciences of mothers who think that they are selfish when they think of themselves or cry in a situation are all too prevalent in our society. 

As individuals and humans, we need to be tolerant of the world, which has diverse citizens with contrasting beliefs and choices. We need to be tolerant and accepting towards a careeristic woman who chooses herself over the responsibilities of a family, forfeiting motherhood, and receive a woman who chooses motherhood over career and materialistic success. We need to accept with open arms the reality of a woman who craves to conceive and is an unfortunate victim of sensitive issues like infertility or depression that hinder them from embracing motherhood. We need to normalise the victims of society who choose to forfeit a seed that is being nurtured in their womb, either to let go of their trauma or perhaps to relieve themselves and the unborn child of an inevitable burden. 

We may all have contradictory opinions at the end of the day, but the reality is that fate often reigns supreme over the best-laid plans we seek to execute. We need to be by every human's side sans judgment to fulfil our responsibilities as human beings. If there's any way to ease anyone into accepting serendipity in an acquiescent embrace, we ought to do so without hesitation. 

In the end, I hope that Mrinalini's story doesn't force you into believing that negative aspects are romanticised and normalised because that isn't the purpose for which I write. Through this story, I hope to convey to each individual that reality isn't a bed of roses but an imperfect balance of thorns and petals that may sting, make you laugh and sing, or often cry. 

Take care of yourselves and your near and dear ones. Enjoy each moment that life gifts you.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for being there for this meagre writer. 

With love,

Elegiac_Damsel

P.S. Please do share your thoughts with me. It helps me as a writer, and drawing insights from your wisdom helps me grow as an individual.

P.P.S. Please do VOTE, SHARE, and COMMENT if Mrinalini's story has succeeded in reaching the confines of your heart.