Sunday, December 24, 2006

:: the lullaby ::

She shifts uncomfortably in the prison cell. It has been a long day for her yet sleep seems to evade her eyes. The cold earth that has cracked open in a random pattern seems to be the only comfort she has to look forward to. She starts to measure the width of the room with her swollen legs. She sighs in despair as the final count does not seem to please her. Her eyes reluctantly look at the pale patches of blood on the wall. Distinct spots of dry blood stare back at her sorrowful face. She murmurs something slowly to herself as her empty eyes fill with quiet tears. She sniffs after a moment of silent weeping and looks away.
Her thoughts now drift to her loved ones. Her family. Her friends. She thinks back to the happier days. Days when she was loved by them all. A time when she was wanted and cared for. Faces and voices seem to take shape on the lifeless walls that surround her existence. She sees her parents there. Her friends and relatives. She sees her brother. A cold shiver of shock suddenly emerges and vanishes in her heart.
The reflection of those times bygone vanishes in the flashes sent down by the heavens outside. The merciless rain has not stopped in several days, she ponders. She smiles to herself faintly as she wonders if the skies are crying with her, or for her.
Her thoughts then shift to her unborn child. She caresses her seven month old stomach gently with her hand and starts singing a soft and soothing lullaby. She walks over to the grilled window of the small cell and continues to hum looking at the dark heavens whose floodgates seem to be open with a supernatural force.
‘Are you still awake?’ she hears a man scream from behind her. ‘Do you not know it is past midnight? Go back to bed now! Come on!’ he thunders with a scowl of disgust.
‘Let her be! She is only singing!’ shouts another man’s voice confronting the previous one.
‘Don’t make me come in there! You both will have to pay!’ shouts the former one again.
‘It is alright,’ she softly tells her husband as she turns away from the window. ‘My child knows all the songs without even singing it.’
She walks up to him and sits down beside him.
‘I hope this one makes it Devaki,’ says her husband looking at her pregnant stomach. ‘We cannot afford one more stain on that wall. I cannot survive another one of those,’ he says choking a little.
‘Don’t worry. I have a feeling this one will. I just know it. Now go back to sleep,’ she tells her husband as she continues to stroke the sleeping Almighty inside her warm belly.


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