Pavitra

She wraps the only shawl she has, a shawl with holes, a shawl with eroding cotton, a shawl to protect her from the cold but who would protect her from the terror inside? Pavitra is a mother. Who is a mother? Someone who gives birth? Someone who exhibits emotions of motherhood ? Or someone who has a realisation that the origin of life is from within. Inside the small hut a few meters apart two of her daughters sleep, one 5 years old the other 3 years old. Just adjacent is a cradle where her little one year old baby boy sleeps in peace. As Pavitra contemplates on her future, outside her hut flames rise from the bonfire.

Being a tribal wasn’t easy. Her diet consisted of rice and nothing else. She had to spend hours working in the field. Yes she was anaemic and her body ached badly. Protruding bones, sunken eyes yet a smiling face, that was Pavitra. The birth of the baby boy was a huge relief for her as her mother in law had created tremendous pressure on her since the birth of her eldest daughter, and then when she gave birth to her second daughter things became worse. Her drunk husband thrashed her with a belt and her tears didn’t stop. The pain was excruciating, sometimes even she didn’t understand what had kept her alive? Why was she alive? Maybe there was something magical within her which she had never seen but somehow knew that it existed. Everyone has a purpose to live. Her purpose was to find happiness someday, to find that light, that unseen light.

Ignorant minds unaware of the fact that the sex of the child is determined by the male partner and not the female partner. Emotionless souls who spent their maximum time drinking and gambling and doing no work. These were the people around Pavitra, her husband and mother in law. We speak of concepts like “ Our surroundings determine our inner states”, what was her inner state? One day after returning from a tiresome day in the fields when she entered the hut she found her husband and mother in law engrossed in a deep discussion. 

“ There is a tubal ligation camp in the nearby Medical college. Tomorrow we shall go there to get your thing done”

The vasectomy (male sterilisation) operation is a much easier procedure than tubal ligation but in India the numbers of tubal ligation operations are way higher than that of Vasectomy operations. Pavitra did not even get the time to sit down calmly and accept the situation. It was an order. An order which was to be followed. Her beautiful mind which seeked light constantly was subjected to harassment by her own family. There was silence in the room and faint voices of her daughters playing outside the hut echoed. Pavitra nodded slowly and started preparations for cooking.

Pavitra and her mother in law start early the next day. The bus journey to the medical college is 3 hours long. The fields And  trees surrounding the road are mesmerising , at some places there are even small ponds, as she tries to look outside the windows into the waters, the waters see a soul seeking freedom in her eyes, a soul struggling to survive, a soul engaged at the age of 15. Yes Pavitra was engaged at the age of 15. A young girl she was then, who went to school and was a bright student. After school she loved to go to her friends place where they would do interesting activities like painting pots, making small clay statues, craft was something Pavitra was really good at. Those were the times which give her hope, even the thought of her getting engrossed into craft gives her hope. There was an abrupt end to it when she was engaged. It was a custom in the community, that the girl got engaged first , and they first confirmed whether she was “fertile” or no, apart from that finance was also a huge reason. Playing, studying, craft was replaced by cooking, working in the fields and listening abuses. The pond water looking into her eyes says that it still sees craft in her eyes, the craft of love and hope. The bus stops as Pavitra realised that they have arrived at the medical college.

The formalities are done, and a pen hour later she is being prepared to be operated. She is given Midazolam for procedural sedation and all the thoughts inside her down settle down and she calms down. As if a river suddenly transforms into a lake. She does feel drowsy now. The surgery is being performed and she has no idea what is happening. She is silent, now her soul speaks.

You are really strong Pavitra. The situation is bad and things have deteriorated. But believe me your strength is infinite. Things will change one day for sure and you shall emerge victorious.

“Who are you?”, Pavitra asks innocently, in the universe inside her, in the sedated state.

I am Mother Durga dear child. Haven’t you seen me? When the other day your body ached I kept my hand on your head and you fell asleep in the field itself. 

“Oh it was you? I never realised…”

You must now child. I am always with you, in all your hardships I stand with you.

“Maa..mother. It is unbearable at times”, and rivers of tear flow inside the starry universe of Pavitra.

You are Pavitra my child, the ultimate purity which still seeks Purity. Come here and I shall absorb your pain.

As she moves towards Mother Durga, she feels freedom, she feels immense strength, from attachments and the worldly things, all this time she in reality wanted to reach her , and when she finally is very close to her she falls on her feet.

She opens her eyes. The effect of midazolam is still not gone. She is being shifted to the general ward on a wheel chair. She sees her mother in law walking next to her. She utters something. The words are unclear. Her mother in law doesn’t understands and asks her to repeat. After several attempts with broken unclear words in her sedated state she says, “ I am not going to tolerate any more abuses from you or my husband henceforth, and if it happens again, I am going to leave your house with my children” Despite her state, her voice was so firm and loud that her mother in law was dumbstruck. She did not have any courage to reply her. 

It is evening now, many medical students are waiting outside the other medicine ward for their turn of the viva. Some are tensed, some are happy that exams are getting over. During this same time the female patients who had come from the camp begin to leave the ward. Tubal ligation requires only a short recovery period and people can chose to go home. Some medical students are a bit perplexed that how these women who had still not fully recovered from sedation would go home. I am one of them. As I wait for my next viva, I see an older woman walk briskly and behind her a much younger woman, looking pale walking slowly holding a polythene bag in her hands. She is just about to cross me when I realise that her gait is slowing down and she is about to fall, I quickly hold her shoulder and hands.

“ You all right miss?” , I ask

I see in her eyes a glowing lamp. She nods her head. She takes a few steps next. After walking a distance, “Pavitra” turns behind and gives me a magical smile.