Mom's lullaby to the daughter

by Rita Shahani

The dark night - I was aware, that outside my tent, above us, in the black sheet of the sky, countless stars were twinkling but inside my tent, there was a dim and meagre light from a lantern. Except for the monotonous sounds of crickets and occasional howling of the Jackals, reverbeting the atmosphere, total silence, prevailed.
I was trying to get some sleep in my narrow camp-bed, but in vain. This was the first time I had joined our school-girl-guide team for the forest trip. We had indeed spent an interesting day, playing various games, doing exercises, listening to the lectures given by our teachers, on trees, bushes, flowers, bees & birds. In the evening we had lit a camp-fire, sung songs and danced around the fire. But, now the stillness and the darkness of the forest was frightening me. Sleep was evading me, refusing to take me in her soothing and loving lap. The other girls, around me, were fast asleep. Perhaps, a girl or two were restlessly turning in their beds like me.
I don’t know when I fell asleep-but a whispering sound awakened me shortly. Who was talking in this feeble, squeaky voice? I focused my attention towards it and became all ears. Two childish voices were stuttering away.
”I don’t know why and when I expressed my wish that I wanted to go to the world in the form of a girl.”
”Yes, I was also asked and I too said that I wanted to be born as a girl in India.”
”But why did you express such a desire?”
”Because I had watched the girls from up above. Human girls are so beautiful not less than any angels. They have such beautiful and shapely bodies, soft silky skin, curvaceous figures, just like a coco-cola bottle.”
”What a comparison? Where did you see a coco-cola bottle?”
”Of course, I have seen the bottle. Don’t interrupt me, let me talk. They have long, thick, black hair, dark dreamy eyes, pink lips like rose petals, teeth with a hue of pearl drops...”
”Wow! You sound like a poetess.”
”Please don’t disturb me, let me continue. Yes, I wanted to be born as a girl and that too an Indian one.”
”Really Indian girls are so clever. They have taken the professions of Doctors, Engineers, they drive cars, they fly aeroplanes, go into orbits, P.T. Usha runs so fast, Sania Mirza plays tennis so well...”
”And Indira Gandhi? Sarojini Naidu, Aishwarya Rai... these Indian women have achieved so much!”
”But see what has happened to us!” Crying started again.
”No, No, Don’t cry, please don’t cry.”
While saying this her voice also became hoarse as though the tears were choking her throat.
”You are asking me not to cry, but you too are crying!”
Now both of them were crying together. Their sobs and crying was getting more and more intense.
It was no longer possible for me to sit quietly now. I left my bed. I opened the door of the tent and looked outside.
’Shall I go out or not?’ I was in two minds. I was scared to go out but my wish to do just that was getting stronger.
Why on earth, are these two tiny girls crying? What is troubling them? and suddenly I made up a quick decision. My best friend Rekha was fast asleep next to my bed.
I started shaking her up. ”Get up Rekha, Get up fast. We have to go out. I am afraid to go out alone.”
She got up with a start, rubbing her eyes, she said, ” Why ? What happened ?”
”Come, Come with me. There are some voices coming from outside.”
I took a torch and both of us wrapped ourselves with shawls. We proceeded towards the place from where the sounds were coming.
”But there is no one here!” We started looking here and there but no one was to be seen! Focusing on the sound of crying, we walked in that direction.
”Listen, the sound is coming from this well.”
We looked inside the well and put our ears close to the well.
”Yes, yes the sound is coming from down there. There are many voices, more than two. Flimsy, child-like delicate voices.”
We threw the light of torch to the bottom of the well. ”Look, the well is dry. There is no water. There are no children as well.”
”Then where are the voices coming from?”
We were really puzzled.
”Don’t be confused or puzzled” suddenly a delicate voice said. It was addressed to us.
”Who are you and where are you? Why are you not visible?”
”How can we be visible. We have been killed prior to our birth. We were murdered!”
Rekha and I looked at each other and exclaimed, ”Murdered!”
”Yes, we were murdered. Our own parents killed us.” and the crying started all over again.
”Don’t cry please. Please tell us your story.”
”We do not belong to this world. We were waiting for a long time for our turn to come to ’Mrityu Lok’. Actually souls have to stand in a queue. That is the transition period between two births. We had to wait for a longer time because we had expressed our desire that we wanted to come in an Indian girls guise. We wasted a lot of time in waiting. Our legs started hurting. We were in pain”
”But why did you want to be born as an Indian girls?”
”We thought that we would lead a happy life here. We had heard that women were worshipped and respected in India. Famous Seer Manu had said, ’Where a woman is worshipped, Gods reside’ We had also heard that in India, daughters and daughters-in-law were considered to be Laxmi’s of their households. We were under the impression that all our wishes would be fulfilled in India.”
”Then?”
”But...”
Voice faltered again and the other voice continued. ”After we entered our mothers womb, how we were tortured.”
”Tortured?”
”Various hot electric currents passed through us in the womb and many photographs were taken of us.”
Rekha and I looked at each other.
”Probably you mean Sonography.”
”Yes we heard that word again and again. We came to know later on that our parents did not want a girl child, they wanted a son. In this country, this part of the world, the girls are unwanted. They don’t want daughters, they only want sons. We don’t know why we are not wanted. They hate us, they insult us... Why?...” She was crying.
”What wrong have the girls done, what crime have they committed? Answer us... Please answer us...” All voices jointly asked us.
We were speechless and unable to reply. What could we possibly say? Now we also started shedding tears.
”After that they inserted forceps in the womb. With the help of other instruments, they butchered us and tore us to pieces. It was so painful for us. We were then thrown into garbage cans. We remained in that filth for a number of days and later we were all thrown into this well.”
We both were really shocked and couldn’t speak for some time. And then, ”Believe us, we are very very sorry.” Rekha said.
”We are with you in your sorrow. Your pain is our pain. Because we also are girls. We can very well understand your pain & trauma.” I said.
” But what can you do for us ?”
”Firstly, we solicitate forgiveness for the injustice done to you by human race. What else can we do?...”
”Yes I promise that after my marriage, when I am in a position to be a mother, I would be honoured and will consider myself fortunate to have any of you as my daughter. I will honour the .womanhood and welcome your arrival.” I said.
”And I too would invite you to come to me. It would be a matter of pride for me to have you.” Rekha said.
To a certain extent the crying stopped.
”That’s fine. Now we have go through the cycle of birth and death all over again and wait for our turn in the queue for the second time. For the time being, talking to you ^has given boost to our self respect and raised our morale, otherwise we were crushed under the insulting and degrading attitude of the human race towards us.”
And the others echoed, ”We thank you from bottom of our hearts, for your sympathy and invitation” said another voice.
And all of a sudden, all the sounds ceased.
Was it a dream I dreamt ? Or had it really happened?

(Rita Shahani is a Hyderabad born Indian settled famous fiction writer).

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