It had been an easy birthing for her young mother and the youngest Aunt was sent home to convey the news. A girl! Everyone was ecstatic, except for Dadi-ji, who apologized profusely to stately Nana-ji as if it was a fault that a girl was born. The wrath of God knew no bounds when He decided to take his creation back – better dead than being treated anything less than a miracle.

Hours after she was born, her health was in jeopardy. The same Aunt was sent home again, tearful and worried for the baby. Aunts, Uncles, both sets of grandparents, family friends kept vigil as the doctors tried their best to revive the frail little body. The young mother lost a few of her years in seeing her first born at death’s doorstep. It was a solemn hour when stoic Nana-ji appeared with the Bhagawad Geeta in his hands, asking his daughter to accept God’s will and pray for her release.

The mother turned her back. She was not going to accept anything so easily. The family spent two days at the hospital, looking after the baby, taking her in their arms for a walk in the corridors, and singing lullabies. Aunty Meera, the youngest, even started knitting baby boots, in the hope that her efforts would not go waste.

The clouds lifted. The baby survived, but was still in a weak condition. The Uncles went out to buy boxes of sweets. Aunts, the maid, grandmothers hastened home to bring out the gifts they had made – baby sets, stuffed cloth toys, crocheted throws and shawls, ponchos.

The young parents tired from worrying, seemed to have lost a few years of their delicate lives. A name was decided on. It would be Sanjeevani. Innumerable photos were taken with all those doting on the baby. There was Aunty Shalini the naturalist, holding her in the lily garden and beckoning her to listen to the cuckoo; Uncle Sunil on his Vespa and she holding onto him; shy Aunty Ritu and her in a tight embrace; Aunty Meera standing tall and defiant in blue jeans and a smocked top - clothing that Nana-ji thought as obscene; Nani-ji taking her to the park; Mummy and she out on a moonlight night; her father and his friends holding her at the fair – sepia and black and white memories pasted in a grey album.

 (Continued at Sanjeevani - Trouble Brews )