NOVEL~*Hiding behind a Stranger*~THREAD 45 - Teaser for Chapter 50 - Page 9

Originally posted by: lashy

Chapter 38

Miracles

'Arrrghhh...'

'Here... please give this to her to drink...' the young lady handed over a cup of freshly brewed concoction to her aide, followed by a small pot of oily balm 'and rub this on her lower back...'

'Baisa...' her voice was hoarse and croaky from having yelled her lungs out 'please care for my family, baisa... I have no hope... I cannot endure this agony any longer...' Her fingers trembled as she made a feeble attempt to reach out to the heiress. But even before she could finish that sentence, a wave of contractions dragged her through another fit of torment, jolting her weakened body right from the top of her swollen belly, to the tip of her toes.

'Arrrgggh...' Her face turned a deep crimson from the unbearable pain. Then, as soon as that surge of contraction faded, the colour on her face faded too, reducing her features to a ghostly white a sign that the ordeal was sucking life out of her, inch by inch.

'I cannot do this... I cannot carry on any longer...' her eyelids slowly folded down, as if she was passing out.

Till a pungent smell under her nostrils and a hard pat on her face forced her to wake up.

'You will not pass out... do you understand? You will stay awake for the sake of your family... for the sake of your foetus that's fighting for life inside... do you understand?'

A fresh worry line had bridged the gap between her brows, but Heera made sure she kept her hands firm as she held the mother's palm so as to not let her fears show 'You will follow the midwife's instructions, as you have been doing for so long, alright?'

'The pain, baisa...'

'That's why I'm here... am I not?'

Instructing the aides to put the pungent smelling salts away, she wiped the sweat dripping down her cheeks with the back of her hand. Then, picking up a few warm drops of the calming oil, she massaged it in the centre of the young mother's palms. 'With Ma Bhavani's name on your lips, do as the midwife says... stay strong...' She chided the lady to snap some strength into her.

However, inside, she was crumbling with sympathy for a young mother who'd been putting up with relentless labour pain for nearly 40 hours now. As it is, it wasn't the most convenient environment to be giving birth in the humidity was at its absolute searing worst and the tiny hut felt suffocating, crowded with ladies young and old. To make matters worse, the many fretful whispers and terror-filled eyes were sapping any hope that the pregnant woman might have - after all, everyone was aware that intensive labours that lasted this long rarely ended well.

Nevertheless, for the sake of the woman and her family, Heera kept the negativity at bay and soldiered on, quietly resorting to the one that could save this mother and baby. Prayer.

'Ma... you're a mother too... you must understand the kind of pain she's going through...' She prayed in all earnest, blocking out the mother's crushing screams 'we are your children, are we not? We have faced enough death in this town... please grant us the gift of life... please let this mother have a safe delivery...'

And it seemed the all-powerful Mother decided to hear their prayers. For, in half an hour, the hut was filled with a new kind of echo. The most beautiful cries of life had silenced the cries of pain and terror - the cry of a purplish red-tinged infant, kicking and wailing in the midwife's arms.

'Congratulations... it's a boy...' she announced 'the Goddess has finally showered her mercy upon us!'

As the announcement gave way to a hundred smiles and prayers in and around the small dwelling, the young mother lay in her bed quietly, a tear trickling down the sides of her face. Her arms were too frail to cradle the infant, her eyes barely able to even make out its face. But her blanched lips managed to mouth a 'thank you' to all the forces that'd helped this miracle happen.

And as Heera was finally given this miracle in her arms, she could feel a hard lump forming in her throat.

'Bless him baisa...' the tearful father folded his arms with gratitude as he eventually stepped into the tent to catch a glimpse of his son's face 'please give him a name'

'It's a lucky child...' added the midwife 'it's brought us good tidings after a string of tragedies...' she rotated her wrinkly palm around its little face thrice, before cracking her knuckles to ward off the evil eye.

'It also reminds us of hope' another lady spoke up 'doesn't it?'

'Yes...'

'Until not so long ago, we feared we were going to lose everything... but, here we are, celebrating...'

'We have been blessed with good tidings ever since the new Mansabdar took up his position... ever since our baisa's wedding to him...'

'Yes baisa...' the father wiped his tears with the edges of his shoulder cloth 'This baby reminds us of the hope that you and Khan Sahib together, have brought us all!'

'We want you both to continue to guide us... and protect us...'

'The hope that you and Khan Sahib together, have brought us all'

The lump in her throat growing harder, Heera observed the faces in the surrounding crowd, over and over again, just to be sure.

They all seemed to be in agreement. And they seemed to mean it too. They were unaware of their Mansabdar's true identity, and had no idea that their baisa was lying to hide this huge scandal. But now that they hailed this marriage a symbol of 'good luck', she couldn't find reason to discredit it or disbelieve it in her heart either even though the wedding had been started off as nothing more than a political game of sorts.

'The hope that you and Khan Sahib together, have brought us all'

There was a soft twang in her heart, their words affecting her in a way that she could not describe. 'I'm honoured... thank you...'

'Oh please don't thank us, baisa...'

'On the contrary, we should be the ones who must apologise to you...'

'An air of melancholy had slowly seeped into the gathering, their eyes rife with regret as they exchanged a few short glances.

'We admit baisa... most of us here were not pleased about having a Mughal man as our Mansabdar... but over time, we've learnt it's not true...'

'It is with his help that we're still alive today... it is because of him that we're still living in our homes... feeding our families...'

'Parnagarh prospers under him... like how it used to prosper under your father'

'In fact, if the Mansabdar were here... we would tell him the same words today, baisa'

'If the Mansabdar were here...'

Her eyes glossed over, part of her lost in a brief recollection '8 days... and no news yet'

'Well...' Heera abruptly broke away from that line of thought, since the strange mix of sentiments was beginning to mist the corner of her eyes. She returned her attention to the sight of the adorable infant fussing in her arms instead.

'Amal... Amal Singh' she smiled, naming the baby after prosperity and hope, before tucking a small pouch of silver coins within its fingers, as a gift 'Much as I don't feel like it, little one... I think I must take your leave now...' she caressed its infantile cheeks with affection for a short while, before handing it back to the midwife.

'take care of yourself... and rest well...' offering a few words of advice for the young mother, she then bade the rest of them a quick farewell, before stepping onto the streets amidst chorus of cheers and a steady stream of greetings

'Thank you baisa...'