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It was almost 4 am when Shreya woke up the next morning. She had slept through the evening and the night. She would have managed to sleep till the alarm rang at 5:30 am if she wasn’t hungry.
She reluctantly woke up and walked into the washroom. The mirror never lies, she was sure now. Looking back at her was the reflection of a helpless women. She couldn’t help feel sorry for herself. The thing about self pity is that it makes us feel better about ourselves once we start finding someone else to blame for our misfortunes. But more often than not, we ourselves are responsible for the messes we create.
She dashed water over her face and let the tears wash away with it. This was the same room in the three bed apartment that she and her husband Nayan had taken on rent after Nischal was born. Due to a delay in the paperwork , the moving and shifting happened later than expected. In fact , Shreya went into the labour the day before they were supposed to move into it. While she was at the hospital nursing her new born son, Nayan had taken care of the shifting procedures. Shreya had walked into this apartment for the housewarming with Nischal in her arms.
The memories of her daughters doting over their new born brother came flooding in. How the same crib that Rhea and Shikha had once used was now redecorated with new beddings and toys. The girls were 5 and 3 back then. Their father had a tough time managing the three. She smiled at the memory where Nayan had come into this room one day frustrated with the girls. He had the task of getting them ready for school in the mornings when ever Nischal got cranky. She remembered teasing him. “You are the one who wanted to keep this baby. Now pay the price!”
Shreya felt a sudden shiver when she realized how she had never wanted to give birth to a third child. It was too soon. The girls were very young themselves and getting trustworthy hired help here was getting all the more difficult. With three kids her chances of getting back to her career were very dim. But Nayan had insisted. “What if it is a boy?”.
She busied herself with her morning chores in the kitchen. She had the breakfast ready and lunches packed much before her family woke up. It was a normal school and office day after all. As normal as it can get. She picked up the newspaper from the door mat of her apartment entrance. She settled on the sofa reading it while she sipped her tea and snacked on a sandwich.
By the end of this routine work, she had made up her mind. Cooking did that to her. It relaxed her and helped her think with a clear mind. She had a plan. She was determined to keep her side of the “bargain” that was the divorce, but she wasn’t going to give up on her son either.
To be Continued……
I am planning a 31 part story this month. (God bless me and my readers) 😀
Please wish me luck….
Picture Courtesy : Coolchaser