The moment of my greatest tests are here again. Looking down at my newborn baby, his tiny body, so fragile yet perfect in my arms. He is mine, he is me, my flesh and blood, my eyes and ears. His smiles and my tears, both seem to flow down these waters without anyone noticing it. I don't have to kill him myself, the guards will do it anyway in another few hours when the sun raises. But I have never let them do that in these last seven years, I will not let it happen this time as well. This is the curse that I have to go through and the sufferings should be mine alone.
There was a time when I was really in deep love with Shantanu. What was there not to get attracted towards him. He was every girl's dream. He was my dream as well even though I knew I didn't deserve him. He should have married a princess, but he fell for me and my beauty. I wasn't me anymore as I lost myself completely in him.
The writings were already on the wall before we even got married. But I refused to believe in me, my old dreams. The simple dream of having a small family, a loving hard working husband and two handsome boys as my eyes. On our way to palace, the sage told our nineth son would be the most powerful and will rule the world, making his father proud. But that would only come with the price of sacrificing his brothers. Shantanu was moved by the curse, but looked determined to keep the boon. He never disobeyed the sage but I was sure our love would melt him when the day comes.
I held the tiny body close, as if I could protect him from the harsh world outside. I tried to memorise every feature of his face, to imprint it in my memory forever. I wanted to remember the way he smelled, the sound of his soft breathing, the feel of his warmth against my skin. This wasn't hard for me, I already remember every inch of his body. I have been doing this from last 8 years. It is the same innocent life, shiny eyes, tiny nose and long ears. Shantanu tried to console me the first time. We are not killing him, but we are lifting a curse as he will be reborn again in an year. I try to believe that as truth sometimes, but then those moments of struggle for life haunt me again , as I drop him in the water in few minutes. No matter what the world thinks, I know I am killing my own kids for the hunger of greater power.
The palace was filled with beautiful servant girls. But no one would match my beauty even without my queens attire. The first few months were truly the pinnacle of my life. I was living my wild dream with no boundaries. The troubles only started when I was into nine months of my first pregnancy. How wrong I was to think I would be able to convince Shantanu to keep my child through my love. He was consumed with power and blinded by his ambition. My love didn't have any chance against my powerful king and my husband refused to listen to my pleas.
The day when my first born saw the light of the world, I couldn't close my eyes for even a second. All the pain of bearing him for nine months and then then the final intense and overwhelming agony of bringing him out is going in vain. But I still had the bleak hope of my king changing his mind after seeing the beautiful face of our first born son, the true ruler of Hastinapur in the days to come. I didn't take out my eyes out of him, even though the terrible pain of child birth was making me sick. The news of newborn reached my husband as soon as the sun raised, and I started praying for my son to rise as well. Instead I saw the king in my room moments later, along with his guards. There was no love, no hope of bonding, no emotions in his face. He was as determined as before to wait for his powerful ninth son. He didn't even bother to look at the innocent face of our first born. The guards were ordered to take the child away for sacrifice.
It was the very same face that I am looking today. Even though it was eight years ago, I remember every bit of him. He was my long lived son, one with whom I spent the most amount of time, almost eight hours to be precise. He would have been eight years old today, studying in a gurukul. He would have been so happy to see his younger brothers in such tiny body, showing him how he was when he was born. They were similar, but not same, every one of them. Those images were imprinted in my memory forever. I wanted to remember the way they smelled, the sound of their soft breathing, the feel of their warmth against my skin, even though it was only for few hours.
When the guards came forward to take my child away, I refused to give him away, like any mother would do. But I knew my limits, I knew my place. I held my son firmly in my arms and stood up, even though the pain was still unbearable. I am not standing in-front of the same Shantanu that fell in deep love with me an year ago. Perhaps it was me who couldn't see the King in him that day as I also fell in deep love with him instantly. But I still wanted to plead for what I wanted within my limits.
That day looked the same, though I was near the river during the noon with sun above my head. The king was kind enough to let me sacrifice my offsprings than let the guards do it. And so I kissed his forehead, whispered a prayer for his soul, and forced myself to do what I had to do. It was a sacrifice that I would carry with me for the rest of my life, a burden that would never truly be lifted. I wanted to be drowned with that sorrow, burden and sins of crime. But in that moment, all I could do was love my child as fiercely as I could, even if it meant it would be only for few more seconds. I carried him tucked into my chest as we would never be separated from each other. I went on for some distance in the river, till the water came to my chest touching his feet. Then I let mother Ganga take him to her arms and walked backwards. With my tears flowing like a stream, mother Ganga raised above to take my beautiful firstborn and left me with nothing but dried up eyes.
Shantanu was proud of what I have done, it appeared he loved me even more. But I could no longer tell what love really is. Every time we made love, the scenes of my son disappearing deep into mother Ganga's arms would muddy the pleasure with pain. It wasn't just my hands that was stained, but my mind was corrupted too. I pretended to love my king but I could never forgive him for separating my precious jewels from me. He loves me for my subjugation to his ambition of power, not because he genuinely loved the girl he fell for on the banks of mother Ganga for her sheer beauty.
I am here again on the banks of mother Ganga. The sun will raise in another hour. The pain of giving birth to my eighth son an hour ago is no longer paining. It is the separation that is hurting me deep again. I have done this on my own like a machine for last seven years. The tears dried up long long ago, I was nothing but a moving rock. As I look at his vivid eyes, I feel nothing but a sense of overwhelming sadness. He looks more perfect than all his brothers. His tiny fingers, little nose, the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, seem to be melting this rock.
I am the queen of most powerful king in the world. How can I be so powerless? Was it really a choice that had been forced upon me, a decision that I never wanted to make? Or I was also complicit in the plan for powerful kingdom through my ninth son and I wanted the glory without the burden of sacrifice. Were my circumstances really beyond my control, or I knew that I had choices but I wasn't brave enough to grab them. I never questioned myself but only blamed my king for all the pain for so long. But this innocent face is questioning my consciousness. I keep looking at him again and again. Deep down, I know that these memories are only for my comfort, only for my solace, in the dark days to come.
As the sun raises clearing the sky, the clouds in my mind also started disappearing. My path and my choices were more clear to me. I can no longer carry this burden on my shoulders and blame others. This is bringing the comfort that I have been longing for all these years. As I see my son again, I remember more my first son who would have been 8 years today. So I gave one final kiss to his forehead, whispered a prayer for his soul, and forced myself back to do what I had to do. I could see Dasi watching what I am doing from some distance away. As I placed my newborn on the banks of Ganga, I started taking my steps backwards, back to the womb of mother Ganga. Every step I take backwards, I feel I am becoming lighter from my burdens. To cover seven sins of my past I took seven big steps backwards, and I am already in her comforting arms. I am no longer sinking with my burden of crimes, but floating with the relief of finally doing the right thing.
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