What the Heart Wants

Rachel wheezed her way up the last three steps. Normally she would have waited for the lift, but this was news that couldn’t wait. Dragging herself to the teacher’s lounge, she exhaustedly fell on the sofa. 

There was no one in the room right then - thank God for that - because her breathing was loud and made weird whistling noises. “This is not good” she murmured to herself remembering the many warnings her doctor had given her asking her to lose weight - especially now that she was nearing fifty.

“Rach, are you okay?” 

Marie Therese walked into the room carrying thirty notebooks with the same ease as the smile on her face. Oh, to be young again.

Rachel held her chest with her left hand and signaled to Marie to wait a few moments. Taking a sip of water from the bottle that her friend offered, she finally found the strength to speak. 

“I found one. I found one, Marie!” Rachel's grin was from ear to ear.

Marie’s eyes glistened. “Where? Really? Who?” 

But before Rachel could answer, other teachers began walking into the room and their conversation was cut short.  

__

She could never point to the exact moment that it started for her, but Marie Therese was consumed by the need to hold and caress a baby. Though she was at the peak of her fertility at the age of twenty-nine - as per an article she had read while researching ways to deal with her predicament - she wasn’t in a position to have a child. She had tried many things - prayer, reading, singing and even cooking - but nothing filled that void. She would make excuses to head to the Kindergarten section of the school she taught in; and all the KG teachers would smile awkwardly at this 12th standard Mathematics teacher who coochie-cooed their students. 

This ‘need’ wasn’t all the time, though. It ebbed and flowed. Sometimes, if she counselled her students - which she regularly had to - and she felt that the session had gone unexpectedly well, she would bask in that joy for a few days. Then, suddenly, an ad on TV, or an inconsolable infant in church would rekindle her agony. But, now Rachel's 'find' - a baby for her to cuddle and hold - filled her with an inexplicable joy. 

It wasn’t that Rachel and Marie had been close friends for long. Marie had moved from the school’s branch in a different state to this one just six months ago (because the school’s original Mathematics teacher had suddenly quit and moved continents). Having to take over classes in the middle of the academic year; getting acquainted with a bunch of new teenagers; ensuring that they finished their syllabus as per schedule; and after-school coaching for those who needed help meant that she had time for only cursory greetings with her peers.

Marie and Rachel's friendship came about in a moment. It so happened that it had been a particularly difficult day for Marie; she was on her period, her class had been uncharacteristically roguish - maybe because the academic year was coming to an end, and her principal had called her to give her an earful about not being able to handle the boisterous students.

A physically tired and emotionally exhausted Marie had known from the timetable in the teachers' lounge that all the teachers would be occupied and that she’d have at least forty minutes to herself. So, she had curled up in the corner of the sofa in the teacher’s room and wept softly. The soft rustle of the silk cotton sari that Rachel had been wearing that day had given away her presence; she hadn't known if Rachel had been standing there for a while or had just walked in. But, once they made eye contact, Rachel simply came and sat next to Marie and offered her the bottle of water she was holding. 

That was three weeks ago. Though Rachel didn’t press Marie to confide in her, Marie did end up telling her about her baby-hugging emotional need a couple of days later. “Okay, let’s find a baby to hug then. Easy!” Rachel had declared matter-of-factly. 

Only that it was far from easy. The school was chock full of children, but Marie couldn’t go hugging them and pouring her maternal emotions on students. And Marie’s absolute condition that this stay only between Rachel and herself didn’t help. So, even though there were a couple of teachers who were new mothers with gurgling infants at home, neither Rachel nor Marie approached them with their request. 

Marie would often meet at Rachel’s house. She learnt that her children were both studying to be doctors - one about to finish and the other one just starting. She had lost her husband to an aneurysm when the children were very small. They spoke about each others’ lives, their struggles and joys. Their friendship blossomed. 

So it was that an afternoon of secret crying had made friends out of strangers. 

____

“It’s sometimes a physical ache.” The pain was evident in Marie's voice. 

“I know.” Rachel held her friend's hand.

The bus ride to Valmiki Nagar was not a long one, but it felt like an eternity and when the bus stopped, it felt too short. 

Marie nervously twisted the crucifix on her chain around her fingers. Her breath came out in short bursts. 

Rachel squeezed her hand. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

They walked the short distance from the bus stop to the house. 

It was a small house, almost shack-like. 

“Hello, I am Rachel. Ramji sent me.” Rachel introduced herself to the lady who opened the door. 

“Oh, please come, please come in”. 

The lady's eyes softened at the sight of Marie. “Please do come in, Sister Therese” she welcomed her deferentially. 

The entire house could be covered in three steps to the left and three to the right. The hall was also the bedroom and the kitchen. A small door led to an outdoor toilet.  As away from the stove as possible and near the only window was a little baby, about four months old, sleeping peacefully on the floor. 

His little mouth was slightly open and his small chest rhythmically fell up and down. It looked like he had been recently bathed, because his face was white with powder and his forehead and cheeks were adorned with two big black dots. 

“Lal Bahadur” the mother whispered softly. She led Marie to the sleeping baby. 

Marie’s hands trembled as she touched the baby’s satin cheeks. His brown hair fell down his forehead in delicate curls. Her fingers touched his tiny nose and traced down to his chin. 

Tears fell down her eyes. 

“He’ll wake up in another half-hour” the lady whispered softly, “you can then hold him all you want.”

For the next forty-five minutes Rachel and the Nepali lady spoke in hushed whispers while Marie sat beside the child sometimes making his fingers curl around her little finger and sometimes just staring at his beautiful face. 

When the baby finally woke up, the mother fed him and gave him to Marie to burp. 

It was awkward, it was messy and it involved a lot of spit-up on her black and brown habit*, but Marie handled it with utter joy and gratitude.

It was late when Marie and Rachel bid adieu to Ruchi and her son Lal Bahadur. She had made both ladies promise to come for lunch that Sunday which they wholeheartedly agreed to. 

“I’d like to thank Ramji with fruits, if it’s okay with you Rachel.”

“He’d love that. Apples are his favourite,” Rachel offered, making a mental note to thank her watchman herself. It’s not always that someone would allow a stranger to indulge his sister’s child. 

“Would Mother Superior be mad at you for returning so late to the convent?”

Marie nodded. “I’m going to have to tell her the whole story, from the beginning. She might be a little angry, but I know she’ll understand.”

*habit - an attire worn by members of a religious order.