The Unborn

It was the fifth week in a row when he had to travel. He didn't mind the travel really though. It was what it did to their relationship. Or rather to him.
Meethi had been clinging to him more and more. At first he had thought it would get better with time. it got worse. each time he was out she got lonely. And then the STD wars would begin. She'd quibble and fight over the smallest things, issues that existed only in her imagination. His patience was wearing thin. He had begun to use the D word in their fights.

The phone beeped. It was her. He excused himself from the room. This was going to be long. He took a deep breath and picked up the phone. Meethi was surprisingly, fine. Not happy. Not ecstatic. Fine.
He waited for it to get worse. Any minute now.
It didn't.
In fact what did happen, was a nothing short of a minor earthquake, measuring 4.76 on the Richter scale.
She wanted to have a baby.
Meethi wanted to have a baby.
Now while it may be normal for any 29 year old woman to make this decision, coming from her it was unthinkable. For the 4 years that they were married and the 3 years before that he had never known her to even mention herself and a baby in the same breath.
She had had a long talk with him before they got married. She never wanted a child. and if he did they couldn't marry.
He had weighed it in his mind. Not carefully. For the initial rush of passion never allows for careful introspection.
He agreed.
Now here he was in the sweltering Mumbai May listening to her.
She told him they would begin stuff in December after their anniversary. But in the next 6 months she wanted to live her entire life. Do whatever. Go wherever.
"So that you have no regrets when the baby comes", he asked her.
"No regrets and never satisfied" She giggled. Shane Warne from the IPL semi final 2008, she informed him.
The next 6 months. They were, well bliss.
She was happy, he knew. Each morning she would jump out of bed, kiss him and go for a long walk. How could anyone ever jump out of bed at 6 unless they were missing a flight, he couldn't comprehend.
Morning person, she answered.
When the boss stole her film. She still sang.
How, he asked.
I was born under a happy star, she answered.
They laughed a lot those days.
Goa and Ranikhet. two holidays. Despite his hectic schedule.
they did not fight. not even when he worked late every single day of the week in November. In fact barely made it for dinner on her birthday.
She stayed in office with him. Typing away furiously at the keyboard. With spectacles slipping off her nose, ever so often.
Those were the days. they lived as if there was no tomorrow. not reckless but carefree like kids.
Perhaps he had just been worried once. When he noticed how much weight she had lost.
"i have to gain my figure before I lose it" She cried.
"Crazy" he replied.

Their anniversary came. The days had not flown past. It hadn't been a whirlwind 6 months. But a gurgling brook. that tripped, fell and danced down a mountain.
They spent the afternoon with a few friends over for lunch. she insisted on cooking everything herself and served only wine. It was almost evening when the guests left.
Buzzed by the sweet port wine, Meethi slept in his arms all evening. When he saw her face he silently wished for a daughter just like her.
Two days later, she took him to the hospital. Counselling for the father to be.
She sat outside while he went in.
The counsellor showed him a file. She had visited them a few months back in May, complaining of regular headaches. A chance test had revealed a rare strain of cancer. they had given her 6-8 months.

She had promised him a new life. But when she left, she took his away.