My sister is being opened up by a surgeon as I write this. And I am scared. I wish everything goes well, and my rational self tells me it will. Just that my irrational self is acting all stupid and taking control of me. It’s making me nervous. In another half an hour or so, a new life will be brought in this world. He/she will utter the primal cry of life, the suddenly risen crescendo of the uaaann of a baby, followed by gasping breaths just to make himself/herself ready for the next loud whine. It’s a miracle, the human life is. From a fist-sized everyone’s plaything, the one entity capable of making man oblivious to everything else in his life - all his worries, his job, his hunger, his entity as a living being himself – this round little ball of life, capable of feeling only the most primal emotions, develops into a grown up individual, capable of making his/her own decisions, fending for himself/herself in this cruel world. This is the miracle of life, my bhanja/bhanji who is going to come into this world today.
I have no idea if it is going to be a boy or a girl, nor do I know what my desire is leaning towards. If it’s a girl, it would be my honour to teach her a thing or two about life, to show to her all the beautiful things in this world, gift her and read out from books that have played a huge part of who I am today. If it’s a boy, I would be sure to teach him how to play the guitar, fool around with him and be his partner-in-crime. I would consider myself blessed either way. But I would be the most happy to make way for the new generation to take their first steps in the world.
It’s a baby boy J