Read the tale of a tiny life! This article is an extract from one of my larger manuscripts.

SHE

An old woman sitting on a jute bag, veiled up till neck was constantly crushing some herbs in a stone mortar. Her colorful glass bangles were colliding constantly with each other to create a rhythmic sound which was perfectly in sync with the grinding sound of mortar. The woman was surrounded by numerous other villagers. Each one of them was standing or sitting in an absolute mournful silence, except the one tiniest visible unit of human species, the infant, she was kept on the trunk of a horizontally mutilated tree. Her cry was piercing the silence created by the villagers like a dagger into the heart.

Five a step from the trunk on which the girl was kept, a small metal pan filled with milk was being boiled at low flames over some locally available wood pieces.

The sky turned twilight as the mighty sun had almost disappeared into the horizon. Grey shade had almost took over the brightness of orange. Just then, a little boy dared to ask his grandfather in a very mild voice, “What is that thing which that woman is constantly grinding in the mortar?” To which the old man replied,” That woman is making medicine for the parents of the girl lying on the mutilated tree trunk”. The little child looked at the girl’s parents who were looking sad but certainly not ill. The little boy got puzzled and thought to cross question his grandfather. He was about to open his mouth again when his grandfather kept a finger over his mouth, signaling not to ask any more questions.

Finally the woman got up and the entire gathering got vigilant. She poured the contents of the mortar into a small metal bowl and began moving towards the boiling milk. This time, with every progressing step, not her bangles but anklets were making sound. She held the milk pot with the help of a thick rolled cloth piece. She poured the herb paste into the milk and stirred the mixture for some time to let the herb properly diffuse into the milk.

Now she moved towards the girl. The girl was now silent may be because she was tired of crying continuously. The parents of the girl were also part of the mournful audience. All the villagers came closer to the girl. Up till now darkness had completely took over the sky. A bearded man gave fire to a lantern and showed to the woman. The girl might have felt so many shadows around her and she again began to cry, again piercing the deadly dark silence. Now the woman stretched her left arm and squeezed the mouth of the girl and with her right hand she dropped the herb mixed milk in her mouth drop by drop. Afraid of which the girl amplified her cry. Then, like layers unfolding, slowly and gradually her cries stopped. Every villager was still there around her.

This time the grandfather told his grandson, “See, the medicine worked. Her parents got relieved. Not only her parents but also the whole village”. The boy listened to his grandfather, stood there for some time and said, “The girl is so static now, I can’t see any of her limbs moving, I can’t even observe her breathing gesture of rising and contracting chest.”

Grandfather replied, “Now she’ll never cry, never move any of her limbs and yes will never breathe.”