Whose Fault?

                                                                     

During a casual visit to my dad’s friend, who happens to be a reputed gynecologist, something appalled me to no end. I’m used to sitting right across him as he carefully listens to his patients, and advises them politely- like a mother to her 4-year old. Today, however, unlike any other day before, I came to know of a woman (maybe in her late 20’s), who had come from Hyderabad to consult this particular doctor. She’d had three miscarriages in the past, as I had been told. Nevertheless, she was in high spirits of being able to sustain a pregnancy in future, and conveyed the same by maintaining a cheerful countenance.

 
To interrupt my stream of thoughts, another woman, aged 34, entered, who was evidently sick. Her hair unkempt, and her eyes and legs clearly refused to function. She was a mother of two girls, and was two months pregnant with a third child. It was only after the doctor examined her, and prescribed her the suitable medicines, did she utter the abominable. She said that after having two girls, the sex of her unborn child worries her all the time.

 
On hearing her, I was taken aback. Her words momentarily shattered my world. Not only did she, knowingly or unknowingly, condemn my existence as a woman, but also pointed a sharp finger at my gender, as though literally poking it. I couldn't fathom how she had come to hate her own gender so much. I couldn’t help clicking my tongue and turning away my face, straining my vision as a cloudy film took a temporary abode in my eyes.


On retrospection, I think- what would the 2-month old inside the woman be feeling? What would s/he know about her/his gender and its complexities? Moreover, wouldn’t the innocent fetus feel humiliated on knowing that the most significant criterion for its birth was being discussed? What would it know about its possession of a particular kind of genitalia, but the fact that it has a beating heart and a beautiful soul embedded in it? Above all, it shudders me to recall the woman’s words.


Owing to the lack of my knowledge of her family issues, I do not completely blame her. She maybe someone who has been through traumatic circumstances, on account of giving birth to two daughters. But the combination of her teary eyes and words certainly made her lose my sympathy for her health, and my respect for her- as a woman.


I, being the second of three daughters to my parents, have often been asked, “Oh, three sisters, eh? No brother?” to them, I say- I do not know what it is like to have a brother. But what I do know, is how wonderful it is to have a sister. My sisters and I, have never felt the absence of a male sibling, and I’ve never sensed a tinge of disappointment when my parents are asked about one. I am extremely thankful to the Almighty for being sent among those that I am wanted by.


While my heart reaches out to that woman’s unfortunate child, I pray that it is a boy for her. And I pray that when he grows up, he doesn’t nurture preferences, like his own mother once did. And if it is a girl, I wish her all the happiness in the world, and pray that she learns to be proud of her gender, just as I am, because after all, who is at fault for her gender?