A Womb in Exile

The agonies of rape and teenage pregnancy have been poignantly recounted in a story that tugs the heart, by Atrayee. A Different Truths exclusive.

“Wash it properly…And fast.” Suzanne yelled her lungs out as she banged on the bathroom door. In that freezing cold of New Year’s Eve, her forehead was lodged with an unusual sweat of restlessness. Panicked and clogged with the looming consequences, she roamed hastily in that small aisle outside the bathroom.

“Are you able to do it? Nothing should remain inside.” She exclaimed again and raised her hand to knock the door but stopped. The hissing sound of the shower had stopped.

“Is she done? So soon?” Suzanne muttered, as she heard the door latch open.

Tulip came out of the bathroom shivering. Utterly unaware of the toll her fate had taken on her, she just acknowledged the brutal physical pain. Body dripping with water, teeth chattering in cold, she somehow clasped the towel around her body and slid down on the divan. The bruise on her right cheekbone had darkened further, making the blood clot apparent even in the dim setting of the room.

Suzanne plunged into a furnace of pain. Her eyes pranced on those blood-stained, barbarous scratches on her thirteen-year-old daughter’s body.

Suzanne plunged into a furnace of pain. Her eyes pranced on those blood-stained, barbarous scratches on her thirteen-year-old daughter’s body. Before they could invite the dawn of the New Year, a bitter reality had arrived uninvited. And it had effortlessly carved furrows in their already disturbed life. Blinded by tears, the whole world seemed a kaleidoscopic blur of colours, slowly smouldering into grey. Suzanne heard her daughter’s groan and there came along a muffled sob, wracking against her own chest.

“Paining Mom…I want to sleep.”

Tulip clutched her mother’s white gown and murmured. Her dark lashes brimmed heavy with tears and frail hands clenched into a trembling fist, desperate to battle the pain. Suzanne hugged her daughter. She knew nothing could extinguish the searing pain of being raped, but who was responsible for this to happen? A clamorous scream plagued her lungs, as if tearing out every single sinew in it. Why on earth did she allow her daughter to roam alone in the evening? Was she unfamiliar of the shortcomings, both in the society and in her own daughter?

The outstretched arms of grief held her soul threateningly as Suzanne watched that innocent soul writhing in pain. She should be taken to a doctor. However, poor Tulip was adamant to sleep. To broker peace, Suzanne dosed her with a Paracetamol tablet for the time being, dressed her in a loose gown and made her sleep on the bed. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she ran her fingers through Tulip’s hair.

Tottering with a borderline neurological disorder, Tulip was a little slower in accepting and adjusting with the hassles of the present time.

Life had always been a whirlwind. A working woman and a single mother, life ragged Suzanne more when Tulip was found slightly disinclined from the accepted norms. Tottering with a borderline neurological disorder, Tulip was a little slower in accepting and adjusting with the hassles of the present time. Nevertheless, Suzanne had accepted her child whole-heartedly. Any cruel stone thrown on Tulip would be made into a beautiful pebble by Suzanne. She saved every penny possible to bring in a little comfort in Tulip’s upbringing. Life was slow for them indeed, and yet, was eagerly nurturing her nascent rosebud into a beautiful blossom.

Under the feeble light of the night lamp inside the room, Suzanne’s tear-soaked eyes were bedazzled by the light of the bursting fireworks in the night sky. The world outside was smeared in a shade of celebration. And here, Suzanne sat pleating her tears and cursing herself for everything. The strong smell of cordite from the fireworks seeped in, and so did the noise of joy and the taste of happiness which Suzanne failed to quaff. Her ears heard only the whimpers crawling out of Tulip’s quilt. She smelled only a stench all around; the stench of her irrevocable loss, of her helplessness, and of her rotten luck. And that suffusing miasma soared slowly as the fumes of shame and anger set within. In that sleep-robbed night, Suzanne sailed with a torment of emotions. She rambled with numerous strategies to seek justice, to punish the culprits, even jotted down a list of suspicious people. But, with the first ray of sun gushing in, a tone of despair took refuge.

It was about Tulip. It was about a soul as fragile as a butterfly and never about Suzanne, who was fiercely independent.

It was about Tulip. It was about a soul as fragile as a butterfly and never about Suzanne, who was fiercely independent. She had been fearless in every stratum of her life. But now everything would revolve around Tulip, who wouldn’t be able to bear it.  Filing a case would open a new set of chapters, utterly detrimental for a child. And for Tulip, swiping through them would be another torture.

Suzanne felt powerless. She couldn’t change the past; but she was capable of making Tulip forget. Being a nascent mind, she would definitely put the incident on the backburner, once kept away from her usual ambience. Brooking that in mind, Suzanne was reminded of her distant aunt, Irene Abraham, who ran a school for disabled girls on the outskirts of Alleppey. A well known social reformer, she had spent half of her life fighting legal battles for abused women. Now, she ran this school for vocational training and education.

Suzanne lent some serious thoughts. Alleppey would be a new place to live in. New school, new friends, Tulip would be at peace there. On the same tide of thought, Suzanne decided to hide the truth of rape; otherwise, Aunt Irene would certainly knead in the convoluted legal formalities, of which she did not want to go through.

Suzanne framed a story for an easy escape. She sent a detailed mail to her aunt stating her inabilities to balance between Tulip and work and sought her help. By the end of February, all the formalities were complete and Suzanne dropped Tulip with Aunt Irene who knew all the ropes of handling such children.

Thirteen years of motherhood and never had there been a day when Suzanne slept without Tulip by her side…. Tulip too shed bitter tears of separation from her mother.

Thirteen years of motherhood and never had there been a day when Suzanne slept without Tulip by her side. It was difficult for Suzanne. Tulip too shed bitter tears of separation from her mother. But Suzanne decided to cordon off all her emotions in the hope of a safer haven for her daughter.

Winter waned and so too came along spring. And, instead of nourishing the bud of hope, it battened a baleful thorn. Suzanne was immediately called at the school. Aunt Irene welcomed her with a furl of worry and handed over the blood test reports of Tulip.

The small world of glass where Suzanne lived in, where she took each step with caution, just to protect her Tulip, was suddenly shattered into a million pieces. Tulip was pregnant. Suzanne read the reports again and again. Nothing changed. Rather, the letters, bold and black, seemed to grow sharper the more she eyed them. She broke down. Within the warm hug of her aunt, Suzanne revealed everything. She had certainly feared this but never thought it to happen, as Tulip had not yet undergone regular menstrual cycles.

Weighing in on Tulip’s psychological strength, Aunt Irene suggested an abortion. And there, trouble took a new facade when doctors advised otherwise, considering Tulip’s physical condition. Suzanne had no way left. To let her own daughter live, Suzanne had to let that unripe womb strive. Where? Not in that school, never in her house, then where?

Aunt Irene gave out another helping hand. She knew a lady, trustworthy enough to take care of Tulip at this stage; Vedamma, as she was called. An old widow, she lived in a small village, almost at an unknown region of India, with a daughter of her own. She had been a trained nurse and now served as a midwife for her fellow villagers.

Blinking a yes for this proposal was harrowing for Suzanne. Thoughts of taking Tulip back with her, pounded many times; however, she remained muffled. Aunt Irene advised her to decide after meeting Vedamma. The same day all three of them left for their new resort.

Vedamma understood Suzanne’s dilemma and consoled her. She would do an effective and discreet job, in exchange for a good sum of money.

It was a small village; limited people lived there with their limited needs. Vedamma lived in a small house with all the basic facilities available. Suzanne did not find any fault in her per say. Nevertheless, her motherly instincts stung her every second. Vedamma understood Suzanne’s dilemma and consoled her. She would do an effective and discreet job, in exchange for a good sum of money. Suzanne had no other say apart from getting proper care for her Tulip. And, Vedamma ensured that with an attached tag; Suzanne was asked to come only after Tulip’s delivery and never before that. That was Vedamma’s only condition and Suzanne agreed too.

Ditching all her doubts, Suzanne left Tulip in the conducive grasp of Vedamma. Surprisingly, Tulip did not shed a single tear this time. Perhaps, her not so discerning mind discerned the concept of rejection.

Days passed by and Tulip started her trade with motherhood. Every few days, Vedamma made her talk to Suzanne. All of them had somehow managed some peace in their respective lives. On asking about her health, Tulip would promptly respond that she was becoming fat due to the protruding tummy. Tulip was not taught anything about motherhood. Six months were over and Tulip’s pregnancy was kept far from any medical check up. She was plodding well in the ancient style. Still, how long a mother could suppress her sentiments.

In the middle of one night, Suzanne reached the village. Vedamma was upset thinking Suzanne did not trust her abilities. But soon, she realized the dormant misery of a mother. Suzanne did not want anything. From the threshold, her lamenting soul just gazed at her daughter. Tulip was asleep. Lying on her back, the silhouette of her last trimester belly was clearly visible before Suzanne to behold. Such a tender age, how was she bearing the pain? Suzanne snivelled in pain. Clasping her mouth tight, she did not allow even a single breath to disturb Tulip and ran outside.

“Doesn’t she ask anything Vedamma?”

Vedamma held her shoulder and made Suzanne sit on the steps outside.

“Yes she asked. Everyone asks…No matter how naive they are…Motherhood is more of bliss than pain.”

Suzanne rocked back as she had stepped onto the most crucial juncture. What next? What would happen once the child was delivered? Before she could shape up her mind, Vedamma spoke. “I know what is going on in your mind? The child will be donated to childless parents… I have contacts…Don’t worry.”

Long before Tulip could wake up; Suzanne was convinced and made to leave the village. However, Tulip woke up narrating a dream to Vedamma where she saw her mother paying a visit. Vedamma smiled for she knew the strength of the bond between a mother and her child. Decades she had spent, nursing pregnant women, but Tulip was one of a kind.

Tulip yelled out in pain…. Poor child, unaware of anything, she was told that a demon rested inside, and she had to push it out.

In a couple of weeks Tulip yelled out in pain. Premature labour pain had knocked her down. Poor child, unaware of anything, she was told that a demon rested inside, and she had to push it out. Tulip trusted Vedamma. For the love and care she had showered on her, Tulip could do anything that Vedamma would ask of her. She pegged all her might and followed every instruction Vedamma uttered. And before she lost her senses, her ears perceived the cry of a new life.

Suzanne was by her side when Tulip woke up.

“Where is the demon?” Tulip asked. She turned a blind eye to her own mother and called out for Vedamma. Suzanne was shocked. For months she hadn’t seen her mother and yet Tulip was more concerned about Vedamma.

Vedamma rushed inside and tried hard to make Tulip lie down. But, she was adamant and repeated something very profound. “It was not a demon Vedamma… It was crying… It needed help.”

Her fatigued body couldn’t bear the sudden excitement and gradually drooped back on the cot. Vedamma fondled her head to make her sleep, while her own mother, Suzanne, conceived how far she had been thrown out from Tulip’s life in a matter of few months. Tears lined her eyes when she heard Tulip murmuring in her trance. “It is not a demon. It needs help…Like me.”

Suzanne held the new born in her arms. Small, soft as a cotton ball; it was a boy, sleeping inside a warm cloth.

Vedamma advised Suzanne to take Tulip back as soon as possible, lest she should develop an attachment. Suzanne held the new born in her arms. Small, soft as a cotton ball; it was a boy, sleeping inside a warm cloth. A slice of her soul wished to take the new born with her. But how could she? Suzanne had a deal with Vedamma. The child would be left there come what may.

Tulip silently watched Suzanne packing all her stuffs. She understood that she was leaving the village. Suzanne was busy narrating what all had happened in the house in Tulip’s absence; however, Tulip’s senses were honed in onto the cries of the new born that lay in the cradle in the next room. Vedamma had asked Tulip not to go to the other room and she should not disobey her. Tulip wiggled in impatience but nobody noticed.

Suitcases were put in the cab, Vedamma was thanked and paid her dues and Suzanne took her Tulip back home. The car raced through the fields and with every jerk, Suzanne’s joy of getting her Tulip back, doubled. However, Tulip did not utter a single word.

Out of the blue, something happened to the car engine and it stopped abruptly. Seeing Suzanne occupied with the driver, Tulip opened the door and ran back to the village, through the fields. Suzanne too ran behind, urging Tulip to come back. But where was she? Amidst the greenery, only her words drenched the air. “It is not a demon…It needs help.”

Losing track of Tulip, a worried Suzanne ran till Vedamma’s house. Exhausted and clenching on an aching stomach, when she reached, she slid down to the ground in awe, while panting heavily. Tulip sat on those steps, calm and composed; she held her child to her bosom and breastfed him. With placid eyes and a calm voice, she turned to Suzanne and said “It’s not a demon. It just needed help… Just like I did…”

Photos from the Internet and image by Different Truths