Ishi gave birth to a baby boy.
He is as big as those two new bipin chandra books i bought yesterday, put together.
She carried him for 10 months! It took one hour for her to push him out. They slit her with a blade and then stitched her back.
She sits, cooing to her baby, joking at how she feels ticklish when he sucks her nipples.
Ishi, my funny funky friend who made the college of the Maharja bearable. She is all Mom now. There were not many instances where we didnt see eye to eye. It's just not that I dont understand her now.
Its just this new person that has walked out of the skin shedded. The skin that burst first where her son poked his head out, the crack then travelling up her belly, her breasts then upto her head. The skin falls off and Voila! there is a Mom to the world.
I know there must be a being like that in me too. But moulting, I reiterate, is not for the fishy ones. We are happy to swim around in our slippery first skins all life long. And nurturing though we might be, narcissism doesn't peak enough to wish the object of nurturance holds one's own gene map.
But Gosh, Ishi, respect I do. so much...chakkare.
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