THE HARBINGER OF NOR'WESTER

The Birth of Intentions

1965, Andarmahal Colony
Coochbehar, 6 months later

The muscles on Shreema's stomach were pulled repeatedly. She tried to sit up the moment it contracted again but contraction periods keep changing throughout labor. Shreema laid back on the tub of water, this was supposed to make her feel protected. However, she found it fruitful to accept that the health of her child comes at the expense of her pain. The muscles pulled once again. Shreema cringed but didn't feel like being vocal about it.

"We need more towels, here!" the matron shouted from her chair, sitting back and keenly watching Shreema slide buoyantly into the tub.

Two younger girls came into the room with coarse towels. One of them placed some under Shreema's neck as a headrest and the other wiped away the sweat on her forehead and the palms of her hand.

"Maa, you should come here!" said one girl to the matron.

"No, no, watch her. I'll know when to come!" the matron replied refusing to budge.

"But Maa...," the other girl looked down into the pool catching the hem of Shreema's floating petticoat, "There is blood!"

The Matron stood up, knocking back her chair with the force, and ran to the right side of the tub. She looked down and looked up to her patient. Shreema had her eyes closed, no wrinkles on her face suggested that she was putting effort, effort equivalent to pushing a tennis ball out of a nostril.

"Why won't she scream!?" the matron exclaimed ushering the girl beside her, "push harder child, push harder....scream if you need to!"

But Shreema kept her eyes closed. Her lips were flat, as if forbidden to be vocal, she kept pushing.

"Bring a knife! And you prepare the sheets!" the matron kept shouting instructions as she held down Shreema, preventing her from sitting upright. Her breathing got heavier and faster, her arms more frantically searching for support. The water in the tub was turning pale red. Then there was the scream followed by a high-pitched cry.

The Matron immediately picked up the baby from the pool. Smeared with blood and amniotic fluid all over, as she emerged from the tub. Shreema exhaled and leaned back into the tub, as the life was finally out of her.

Shreema exasperated and drifted of to sleep, thinking of the events that led to this moment. A loud squeal pierced the air, her child was crying, Shreema drifted off to sleep.

Nandan grabbed her arm and spun her around. "I saw you. I saw you..." He was having difficulty to describe his sight, "how could you? Did you seduce my father...?"

"Is that all it took to turn my magnificence into seductions?" Shreema mocked the young zamindar, "I see my audience you know. And I have seen you all the times I have danced in front of the Mayatalav!"

"My childhood affections has nothing to do with this!" Nandan said through gritted teeth, suddenly feeling guilty for his innocent desires.

"No, because goddess forbid someone turning down a Sikdar's affections!" Shreema retorted cruelly, "Your father approached me. Get it through your thick head..."

Nandan took a moment, as if unwilling to beleive that his father could've any power over Shreema Saha.

Shreema held the upper fold of her saree tightly. She remembered seeing Nandan at the door, Talukdar holding her in his embrace, naked. How in all consciousness she could only gesture Nandan to go away with a flick of her hand.

"You could've just told me," Nandan choked, "I would have saved you. We could've been happy...!"

Shreema cupped her hand trying to hold Nandan's cheek, he retorted at her touch.

"Guess I had to belong to someone to be worth something."
Shreema absent mindedly put her hand on her belly, "Shefali, do you like her?"

Nandan took a moment, he was expecting the conversation to go in a very different direction, "we are childhood friends, so something interesting to look forward to." He paused losing himself, then he noticed Shreema rubbing her stomach, it him again.

Moments ago Nandan was starting to calm down, he felt that Shreema was just a victim of circumstance. All the sympathy suddenly evaporated from his eyes, every ounce of hate that was turning into love came back stronger than ever. Shreema was once again the seductress, she wasn't a victim, she was the one who created the circumstance. Nandan spoke slowly, "you are pregnant!"

Shreema stopped her hands and looked straight at Nandan. "Yes I am."

"You need to...," Nandan's conscience came back, he couldn't instruct Shreema to get rid of the child.

"She is going to be born," Shreema warned striking off the last of Nandan's sympathy.

"I will personally see you burn, if try to hurt my father with his unborn child!"

"Look at me!" Shreema too was raging now, "I am walking on burning coals! I will personally see to it that this child has nothing to do with the Sikdar family!"

The images broke, Shreema tore open her eyes. Her mouth was dry, her body immensely fatigued from birth. She looked around for her daughter. The baby girl slept peacefully wrapped in white sheets. The Matron kept rocking her.

"Why water?" asked Shreema, now dried and laid in a bed, "I mean water birth does have health concerns!"

"All Apsaras are born in water!" the matron said proudly, "we are beings of strong intentions, fluid and uncontained like gurgling chasm of celestial divinity!"