Sometimes opening up to a stranger is less risky than speaking with a friend. You do not have to bother about how the other person might perceive you to be because what were the chances that you will cross paths ever again?
Snigdha probably thought the same before she poured out her heart to me during our flight to Bangalore. Unfortunately, sometime back we ran into each other in a local bookstore. She was picking up illustrated books for Dhruv and I was browsing through the new arrivals.
Snigdha was a doctor in a local private hospital, a single mother by choice out of wedlock and Dhruv was her 3 year old son with bright blue eyes. So when we decided to catch up over coffee in the café across the street, I knew I just had to provide the necessary trigger and Snigdha would definitely ramble. “It is more difficult than it seems, right, to raise a kid on your own?”
Plop came the reply, “Usually the women in Dhruvs’ crèche and my nurses ask me this question with a fake expression of sympathy. But glad you asked. Yes, you can’t imagine how tough it is.”
“When people find out I had a baby on my own – after the man who accidentally helped me conceive it in the traditional fashion went AWOL before our wedding, the sympathy becomes pity. And the next question almost always is – How do you cope with it? Followed by – Have you considered getting married again? And then I have to reiterate that Nishant and were never married. That’s when you get to see the disapproval on their faces and the scorn in their judgmental eyes. My story is the easiest target that fuels their continuous gossip network.”
“Gossip and the gratification that someone else’s life is more messed up than theirs are. I would like to think that they find your decision of single parenthood very bold and fascinating. I know I do. They probably never found themselves in a similar situation or did not have the liberty to take such a decision, and, knowing you is the closest they could get to know about the experience.” I said.
She adjusted Dhruv’s bib, opened the packet of chips for him and said, “Yeah, and that as well, I guess. But more than liberty, I think it is about mental resolve to go through the whole ordeal. Yes, it is an ordeal, nothing less than that; you have to be extremely headstrong to picture the demanding future and not back out after that. Once you have made up your mind not to back out, the societal judgment just vanishes in the background. And it is difficult for the child to grow up without a father, so you have to be ready to tackle the kid and his curiosity as well.”
I knew about Dhruv’s father so I took liberty in asking, “Have you decided what you want to tell him about Nishant?” In the back of my mind I pictured myself as one of those crèche’ mothers waiting for gossip, but wait, would I ever come across a woman who was almost left at altar, picked herself up together, gave birth to their (read: her) son and was a practicing medico at the same time. I might. But listening to an experience first-hand from the source had its own charm.
“I would like to believe that Nishant does not know I have three year old son yet. If he does know, he has not made efforts to establish any sort of communication at all. In any case, I have been in contact with my lawyer friend regarding termination of his paternal rights for good. I do not want anything to do with him and honestly there would be less trouble with – Who is my father? and Why does he not love me? questions. There is no point in planting a seed of hope in a child’s brain regarding the love, support and care that can never be reciprocated by his biological father.”
At that point I really did not know whether to pass a harsh remark or two about Nishant or admire the fact that she has it all sorted! But then she said, “Actually it is just matter of months when he might come home and ask me about his father. I just hope I am not running around the place like a loon, muttering expletives out a bit too loud and trying to find a proper response a three year old can process.” We both could not resist a chuckle at that moment!
“I never pictured myself doing all the domestic chores myself; always thought I would have a helping husband. Ironically, I am doing all of them and prescribing treatments to my patients as well. And when your monthly friend visits you; you just have clench your teeth, pop in the pills and load yourself with caffeine so that you can take care of the wailing baby. Oh those days! I swear I would have made off at the first available opportunity!”
I couldn’t resist but ask, “What do your parents think about your arrangement?”
“Mom and Dad. It was very difficult convincing them; I have a younger sister also you see. So I decided to leave that city and moved here after I got a job here. They couldn’t comprehend why I couldn’t just terminate the pregnancy, get married and live a normal life like others. But my mother and sister were here with me during my delivery and a few months post that. There was no looking back after that, they love Dhruv to bits and have now become my support system. Gradually they warmed up to the idea that it wouldn’t work the conventional ‘fall in love-get married-have kids’ way for me. That said, I am supposed to be going back home to meet some prospective grooms my father has selected for me. God help me!”
“Hah! Ask me about it. My parents probably have given up hope that I would be getting married any time soon.” And somehow, in the next half an hour, she had convinced me that I should start putting in more efforts to find a guy I want to get married to. I think I was red with embarrassment when decided to stop and said “I am sorry. I have a tendency not to stop gabbing once I start. You will be fine!”
“But let me tell you about those instances when I have to just smile and nod. When few mothers say that they understand how it feels to be a single parent (because their husband is out for some office work/training) – when the fat aunty next door tells you that its time you find a father for your son – when other parents in the park point that my son has my husband’s eyes- when your over-enthusiastic cousin offers to babysit your son but always bails out when needed” And that is exactly what I did after I finished writing this paragraph- smile and nod!
She then started to clean Dhruv up from all the mess he made from the chips and said, “It has been nearly four years since I have slept properly. From the post-partum days to his first day at crèche, it has been nothing less than a roller-coaster ride. And trust me; not having someone to share the responsibilities with is half as heartbreaking as not having someone to share the love with. There are days when I just want to leave everything behind and run away as far as possible. But then I see him walking towards me, babbling in his own language, to show me a picture of two clumsily drawn stick figures with ‘Mom and me’ written by his teacher and then climb up to my lap and just doze off in next five minutes. It is moments like these which make me realize that he is the best thing to have ever happened to me. I could never run away from anything that gave my life the meaning it has now. And to logically think about it, life probably will never get easier for me but it is worthwhile now with Dhruv being my levity and gravity.”
If anything, I have learnt that the best thing to do when you are tearing up during a conversation is to just look down and fight the urge to shed the water bombs by asking a silly question. “Doesn’t he remind you of Nishant?”
“Yes of-course he does, he has Nishant’s eyes. And that’s why is becomes my responsibility to make sure that when he is a grown up man he is nothing like what his father was. And that would be my biggest achievement.”
I swear I could see the red cape around her. Or was it just my blurry vision.
The Unbuzzed Musings 