The Birthdays again

Another round of birthdays-days of hectic activity, running around, last minute crisis…and complete MADNESS at home..It’s this which keeps me away from my blog too, this time of the year!

On one hand we are grateful that we only have to do it once in a year, on the other hand we feel completely drained out this time of the year-physically, mentally and financially!

And yet we do it with more zeal every year!

Planning both parties, buying everything we can get our hands on, cooking up surprises, making plans to delight them at every step...

However this time, I was questioning myself more.

Yes, it is ok to splurge once in a while, but shouldn’t we be thinking of the other little girls out there, who are still struggling to live?

Are we teaching them the right things? 

After years of receiving, shouldn’t I be teaching them to give more? 

Maybe, from next year, we’ll spend half the effort in taking them around to the blind school or SOS village and let them experience the joy of sharing their gifts.

My ideas seemed to idealistic when I thought of these two, who insist on keeping a piece of return gift also, on top of all the gifts they get, actually agreeing to give up on anything.

And then, Elena came to me herself saying, Mom can we please give something new to Parvati didi this time? We thought about what our maid would need most and then she happily packed up satchels of school stationery for the maid’s children.

It was a small thing, but I was really happy she thought of it. My little girl is growing up all right! Yes, we’ll do more, all along the year, and not just on the birthdays, but we had made a beginning.

The Female child

After Swaram's post I just could not help sharing my experience.

We longed for a daughter. Yes I was ready to bring up a son with the same love and affection-but we still wished…

I went for the regular ultrasounds to a family friend who never confirmed if it was a girl and so I had doubts. And the last thing I remember whispering immediately after the baby, as everything passed into a blur was…Tell him it’s a girl!

Reactions:

The hospital staff was full of sympathy as they slinked away to other patients to collect Baksheesh: Oh, it’s ok. This is just your first child…

Uncle who did my ultrasounds: Beta, I don’t tell anyone if it’s a girl. Because if anything happens it’ll be on my conscience….(I knew what he was trying to say, but still could not believe “normal” people would do what he was implying)

People who did not matter: Chalo theek hai. Lakshmi aayee hai. Aglee baar........(err Congratulations, but better luck next time!)

My family was furious. How dare anyone imply that she was not welcome? I was so thrilled with my baby that I seriously didn’t mind the opinionated, ignorant, deprived fools for their conditioning.

And then I did it again!

Some “well-wishers” were so over-whelmed with sympathy that they just couldn’t keep it to themselves: You didn’t get a scan even though you already have a daughter?

No matter how futile arguing with fools is, I could not let that one go. These were prosperous, well qualified people. What do they think having sons will accomplish? All for the big deal of another generation with the same surname? And the hope of the son sharing his dowry when he reaches an auctionable age?

For that they are ready to kill a baby before she is born.

I am so sad that there are so many of them still around.

I am so happy I have my baby girls to cherish!

Some other children

Amidst all the chaos of my Children’s day preparations, I clicked on the NDTV homepage featuring some other children-the ones losing their struggle for surviving beyond the day.

It took me back many years to a tiny, deserted railway station in Rajasthan.

We were returning from a college trip and the train slowed down at a signal. A woman walked close to the train, with a little baby in a basket. A couple of us were hanging at our usual spot near the compartment door and I leaned out and waved merrily at the baby.

The woman seemed to rush over, talking desperately and almost thrusting the basket at me. Unable to follow her words, I stepped back, was she begging?

My friend pulled me up a step  as the train picked up speed again. The woman ran the length of the platform holding out the basket as I fished out some money and started to throw it near her.

“She is not asking for money,” my friend insisted, “she wants you to take the baby.”

We had left the platform by then and I was still struggling to understand: She was saying she was going to throw the baby on the tracks, then she saw you looking at her, and ran after you.

It took time to sink in.

Was it real?

That woman was really going to throw her baby on the tracks? Why didn’t I grab the basket?

“Are you crazy? Just imagine the hostel warden’s reaction if we went back with a baby.”

I was still shaken. We could have given the baby to some NGO, some mother who would have kept her, but it was too late.

I still feel guilty.

Because I am afraid that nobody else grabbed that basket either. And that baby too met the fate that so many other baby girls in our country do.

I still want to go back and help a few babies like her. Writing about her is just the beginning, I hope I can do something more.

Someday soon.

Thanks to blogadda for picking this post-we need all the help we can in rooting out this evil