Story 1: An Extraordinary Birth

It was the year 1982. A devastating cyclone was making landfall when Satyadev’s wife went into labour on the wee hours of that fateful Sunday. She gave birth to a baby girl and slipped into coma. With power supply suspended and the hospital thrown into darkness, the lone doctor and midwife had to struggle to bring her back to life. The next morning, the little town woke up to a trail of disaster. Roads were disconnected, crops were destroyed and there was loss and misery everywhere. Parts of the tiled roof of Satyadev’s home had come crashing down in the winds. The entire lot of wood had been washed away and his carpentry business had come to a grinding halt.

‘Ma, it is a baby girl! I am going to name her Anugraha!’ He happily informed his mother on returning from the hospital. Mandakini was disappointed, to say the least. She declared that the arrival of the baby portended bad luck. ‘A girl? Hmmm. Look what she has brought with her! Destruction! You really want to call her Anugraha? A blessing?’ She asked. Satyadev did not reply. Mandakini did not join him in welcoming the baby home.

Upon his wife’s insistence, the young carpenter made a crude cradle for his daughter, using wood from a broken chair. Mandakini’s prophecy about his daughter worried Satyadev day and night. He was certain the woman would not miss an opportunity to taunt the child every time something goes wrong. Besides, he hated himself. He had neither the courage to stand up to his mother nor could he make a beautiful cradle for his baby. His wife was disgusted with Mandakini and disappointed with Satyadev. Barring the comical wailing of an infant at odd hours, there was a pall of gloom about the house.

Ten days later, the gold merchant Anirban and his wife welcomed a baby boy into the world. Anirban’s men visited Satyadev, asking him for a cradle to be delivered in four days for a ceremony.

‘Saaheb’s wife has given birth to a son after so many years! His family is very happy. He has promised to give you ten thousand rupees just for the cradle,’ they informed him.

‘Well, I am sorry. I don’t have raw material! The wood in the store room was washed away,’ Satyadev said, looking dejected.

‘We will go and see if we can get you some wood,’ they told him, eager to please their boss. But the wood was delivered a day prior to the ceremony.

‘Forgive me, Bhaiyaji. I don’t think we have time to make a cradle in such a short time,’ Satyadev informed them.

‘Maybe things will get better if you leave the baby in a temple!’ His mother suggested after they left. With every taunt, Satyadev distanced himself a little more from his baby and his mother.

That evening, the gold merchant visited Satyadev’s home, much to the poor carpenter’s surprise.

‘Ram Ram, saaheb!’ Satyadev welcomed him.

‘Satyadev, how are you doing? Suna hai Mahalakshmi hui hai! Can I see her?’ He asked. For a moment, Satyadev did not understand who Anirban was referring to. The gold merchant placed a pair of silver anklets in Anugraha’s tiny palm. ‘So here she is! The girl born with a storm! Such lovely almond eyes she has. Alleeey leyyyy!’ He smiled, playfully shaking hands with her. Satyadev realised he had never played with Anugraha. ‘I am sure you have a cradle for your princess, isn’t it?  Why don’t you take this money and give it to me? We need one for tomorrow’s ceremony,’ Anirban suggested. 

‘Well, sir. I made the cradle from a broken chair,’ Satyadev said, unable to meet the wealthy man in his eye.

‘When your precious new born can sleep in it, I am sure my son can too. Your daughter has withstood a storm on the day she was born. Let a little bit of Mahalakshmi’s might bless my weak little son!’ Anirban convinced him.

In tears, Satyadev looked at his mother. He wanted to run around, screaming and jumping with joy for his daughter.

‘Please join us for lunch tomorrow. And yes, when the wood arrives, make a cradle for your daughter too,’ said the man who traded in gold.