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It was the summer of 2003. We were posted in the lush green plains in the north eastern part of the country after a two year stint close to the Queen of Hills ie Shimla. In spite of low temperatures , summers were extremely humid. I was expecting my second born and was into the fourth month of my pregnancy after a traumatic miscarriage six months ago.
It was a difficult pregnancy. I had a very rare complication called placenta previa. The doctors had advised complete bedrest. I was experiencing heavy to light bleeding from time to time. The doctor was a very experienced gentleman who had told me in no uncertain terms that if I wasn’t careful both our lives could be in danger. On top of it I had a five year old to look after. The husband naturally called my parents who came and stayed for the entire period of my pregnancy much to my relief.
I was restricted to my bed with only the television , books and the laptop for company. I missed my hectic social life. Friends did drop in occasionally but it was not the same thing. My next door neighbour was my lifeline during this period. We would chat endlessly. She also kept me updated on all the latest gossips. She brought me books from the library as well as from her own collection. She would finish her chores and spend time with me morning and evening. I used to love her company. She also sneaked in samosas, pakodas and other junk that I relished.
Then it was time for Poojo… I longed to go out and shop for the entire family. I expressed my desire to her. One afternoon she came home with a man carrying a big bundle tied in a dirty white cloth. He was a bengali sari waala who sold his sarees door to door. He had his list of loyal patrons in the cantonment as all fauji wives love to shop. He had brought new stuff for poojo – traditional taants, kanthas, dhakais and pure silk batiks. This batik in an earthy warm shade with a burst of colours in the border and the aanchal caught my eye instantly. I was always attracted to bright shades but one does develop strange choices and temperaments during pregnancy. It was my only poojo purchase that year since I knew I would not be venturing out. But my desire to indulge was satisfied and I still am thankful for such a friendly and considerate neighbour at a difficult point in life.
As for my daughter, she sneaked in a month before the due date after giving me endless sleepless nights. But one glimpse of her and I forgot all my struggles and pains.