Kicking her was fun. I used to kick her a lot. Sometimes out
of love, sometimes out of anger and sometimes just to make her happy. I often
wonder how she could feel happy even when I am hurting her. She used to caress
her stomach lovingly after I kicked. But now, I know her plan. She showered all
her love on me, so that she could cleverly kick me out of my home.
I loved my home. Well, who doesn’t? Albeit I didn’t like the
pink color, I found tranquility in there. 9 months passed so quickly. How could
she do this to me? Once I meet her, I will kick her harder and seek my revenge.
I am getting nostalgic. I vividly remember the days when I
used to spend quality time with mom. She used to tell me about herself and
other members, what she loves the most and what we would do when I come out of her womb. But,
there was someone, who always disturbed us. He used to bring that yucky
tasteless cold thing for mom. Mom called it Ice cream. I think he has a bad
taste. He always diverted Mom's attention, such an insecure personality. In
order to regain Mom’s attention, I used to kick her harder and instead of
reverting me back, she would call that
insecure man and say ,“ Listen. Baby is kicking. Come and feel.” And
then he used to plead me -“Baby, kick again. This is your dad. Please kick
again”. I always used to murmur to myself...”Ohh Really! If you are my dad, why
don’t you carry me in your womb?” No matter what, I never kicked when he asked
for it. I used to laugh instead. After
few attempts, he would give up with the same sentence, “why baby never kicks
when I am here?”
It was too much fun and now they are kicking me out. Every
action has a reaction. I never thought, one day I would leave my home like
this. I thought she was my adobe but I was so wrong. She never considered me
her part. That is why she is pushing me harder. But I won’t give up so easily.
I am kicking her harder in return but she no more feels placidness. I think it
hurts her or she is now done with me.
Oh no ...someone is
pulling me outside. Don’t pu
ll me, please. This is my home. I am fighting back
but I am too timid in front of him. My mom is crying out loud. When it is
hurting her so much, why shouldn’t she keep me inside her forever?
I am crying out loud but it doesn’t affect anyone. I think I
am out now as I hear people giggling and laughing. Yes, they must be happy to
see me crying. My eyes are shut, I won’t open them. I don’t want to see this
place. I am not getting the same feel as I used to get in my adobe. People are
so loud here, inside it was quiet. I want to go back there and feel the warmth
of my mother’s womb. Pleasant and safe.
Someone is holding me and I am feeling the same warmth as I
felt in my home. I am no more nostalgic now; her hands have the feel of home.
I have finally reached where I belonged.
I won’t to open my eyes as I am angry about being kicked out of my home
but I feel safe and happy.But, If I won't to open my eyes, then how would I see mom and dad.
I see a beautiful lady who is carrying me in her arms and a man is sitting besides her.They are so happy to see me. I can’t kick her. She is so beautiful; I must say that man doesn’t have a bad taste. She has the same eyes as mine. She wears the skin akin to me. But, she is prettier may be because she has the best smile. I am holding her finger tight and this time, I won’t let her go away from me.
I see a beautiful lady who is carrying me in her arms and a man is sitting besides her.They are so happy to see me. I can’t kick her. She is so beautiful; I must say that man doesn’t have a bad taste. She has the same eyes as mine. She wears the skin akin to me. But, she is prettier may be because she has the best smile. I am holding her finger tight and this time, I won’t let her go away from me.
I promise Maa, I will
never kick you again.
~~Prerika
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The Indelible nib- It is not just a blog but a diary of untold stories. We believe everyone of us has a story to tell and it must be put in words. If you have such stories, please mail us at prerikakanchan@gmail.com.
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