'Baanjh'

Sud and I had decided to wait a year before planning a family. When we thought the time was right we excitedly got down to business, only to discover nothing was happening and there was no good news to announce. After a few months went by I began to worry, but was convinced by the ladies who knew it all that these things were unpredictable and I should not stress. "Don't dwell on it" I was repeatedly advised, which just made me want to bop them in their smug faces as it is like saying "If you don't think of a green elephant I will give you a million bucks!" Taboo images are all that keep one preoccupied  - even if it is just the brain working in overdrive to keep visions of exotic animals or in my case babies at bay.

After a year of disappointment I began to do the doctor rounds and everyone I saw reassured me there was nothing wrong with either of us and we should just be patient. I would have my fingers crossed every month and when there was the tell tale sign of 'no luck' I would weep in my husband's arms. We would go out to parties where I would see mothers feeding their tiny tots and come home in depression. My neighbour in Tezpur produced a little girl and I went across with gritted teeth to do the needful 'oohing' and 'aahing', only to be told in no uncertain terms that she would rather I  not pick up the child since I was a sterile 'baanjh' and so might put the evil eye on her little one. 'Baanjh' is a derogatory word used for women who cannot have children.

Then there were those knowledgeable biddies who came up with the most fantastical suggestions of what I should do to conceive. Strange contorted positions were recommended, times of the month and in which direction to face were suggested and I was even given a vial of Sai Baba's supposedly holy ashes to do unmentionable things with. My poor husband went along with all my bizarre requests with a helpless and worried expression, though he stopped short of actually telling me that maybe I was behaving in a completely daft and irrational manner.

The strange thing is that I am not a superstitious person by nature but had got to that desperate stage when I was willing to try anything, anyway, anyhow. When I did finally conceive, only to miscarry a couple of weeks into the pregnancy and was then informed that I could never have children due to complications that ensued, I felt a strange sense of relief that the whole situation was now out of my hands.

The other paradox was that I had never been a particularly maternal sort of person and always preferred puppies to babies. I could  never bring myself to 'cootchie-coo' other peoples newborn bundles, but being told that I would never have one of my own was soul shattering. Even then it was more the idea that Sud would never be a father, or that my parents would be deprived of grandchildren that was more heart breaking than anything else.