Savithri, her husband Mohan and their son Prasad had paid their oblations to the temple deity and were returning home.  The cool air was invigorating.  The sun had yet to come out on the horizon.  As usual, the birds were a cacophony of activity. A lone cuckoo was cooing a plaintive note to its mate.  The air was thick with the scent of ‘jasmine’ and ‘Parijatha’ flowers.  Savithri felt light and ethereal.  She was tempted to linger on for a while in this embalmed darkness and let her thoughts drift.  Of late she had got into the habit of transporting herself to a trance like state and recreating the past. She would spend hours encased in this languorous dreaminess.  This was becoming her favorite pastime now.   She called out to her husband and son and asked them to proceed walking.  She would sit in the adjacent park for some time and come home later – she told them. She watched as their figures receded farther and farther away and until they seemed mere dots silhouetted against the rising sun.  It suddenly registered in her mind that she had noticed a slight stoop in her husband’s familiar figure. True he was sixty six; but she had not imagined that age could lay its imprint on his imposing figure – he was simply so perfectly made –so indestructible - his tall frame, the aristocratic features, the pleasant countenance….  But time spares none..   Everyone has to go through the same process, sooner or later – the greys, the wrinkles, the stoop, the failing eyesight – they are inevitable ….  She looked at herself.  She was eight years younger to Mohan but probably looked older; time had not been kind to her, but of course she didn’t mind that.  And then her thoughts riveted to her son- --how fresh he looked as if Nature had just sprinkled dew-drops on him - so tall and lanky, resplendent with youth and vitality.  What a contrast! She exclaimed to herself.

Today was Prasad’s seventeenth birthday and as had been the practice all these years, they had carried out the ritual of worshipping at the temple first.  Ruminating on the events of the past few days, Savithri felt elated.  Prasad had recently come out successful in the Medical entrance Examination. He had always been a precocious child with an unwavering desire to become a doctor and serve humanity.  And now he had crossed the first milestone in reaching his goal.  Savithri could only thank God for this.

She recalled with a twinge how long ago, as an idealistic teenager she too had nourished dreams of becoming a doctor, and how the dreams had come crashing down.  For, she could never get her hands to do the dissection on the dissecting table. No matter how hard she tried, her hands refused to move –they became temporarily immobilized- and so after many unsuccessful efforts she finally gave up.   “Now, the dream is taking shape through my son”, she mused.

Prasad was a gifted young man, with natural brilliance, an excellent memory and a probing mind.  He had in him, equal measures of humility and compassion.  To her mind he had all the requisites of a quintessential doctor.

Her heart cloyed with pride for her son.  Her son?  Could she call him that?  Wasn’t she only his keeper?  For that matter, she was her daughter’s keeper too.  Prasad was God’s gift to them, His benevolence, His Prashad, as they had aptly named him.  And, how close they had been to not accepting this bounty from God.  Savithri shuddered at the thought.

Her mind took her back to the event that had happened seventeen years ago.  The picture was so deeply etched in her mind – it could never be erased. 

It had been a Friday.  Mohan and she were returning from the temple.  It was still dawn and except for Nature’s activity all was quiet and still.  Mohan, accustomed to taking long strides, usually left Savithri a few paces behind.  It was when she reached the garbage bin that she heard a tiny whimper.  It was so feeble; she could have easily missed it. She tried to dismiss it as that of a kitten’s but some extraordinary force urged her to look into the bin.  What she saw gave her the surprise of her life.  There lay a new born baby, probably a day or two old, swaddled up in a towel, the eyes half-shut, the face red and swollen.  Spontaneously her hands reached for the baby and in a moment she had scooped it up into her arms.  Even as she was picking up the baby, she could feel it apply gentle pressure, an up thrust, propelling itself higher and higher, ever so slightly almost as if imploring her not to leave it there. Later she would think- - the primeval instinct for survival is there within all living things.  Or else how could a baby, hardly a day or two old, lying in a pile of rubbish, barely able to hold on to its breath, raise a cry and attract attention. And how could one explain for the upthrust that the baby exerted—- she couldn’t have imagined that.  The Survival Instinct or the fight  for survival is a universal law- even the sickest and the weakest never gives up the hope for survival – this is the basis   for the perpetuation of species - she marveled at God’s creation.

 She held the baby to her bosom, unconsciously rocking it in her arms and at that instant raised a cry to her husband.  The next moment, Mohan was beside her, and the two of them were staring at the little wonder, their eyes transfixed.  For what seemed an eternity they had their eyes locked on the baby – and when they dislodged they squealed with joy – it was a beautiful baby – a boy- and he was wriggling and flexing his little limbs- literally kicking with life!  They were overjoyed. But the next moment brought them back to terra firma.  Their mind was in a muddle.  Whose baby was it?  How could anyone have abandoned such a beautiful baby?

“Arre koi hai? ..Yeh masoom bachcha kiska hai?  (Is anyone there? Whose is this innocent baby?)  He yelled out again and again.  Nobody answered.  Whoever had left the baby there had done it deliberately; hence there was no point in screaming. Nobody would come claiming for the baby. A milk vendor passed by, on his tricycle. When Mohan tried to draw the man’s attention to the baby, he looked uninterestedly with a sideward glance and peddled away.  His apathy shocked them.  After sometime a bullock cart sauntered along with loads of vegetables.  The jingling of the bells around the necks of the bullocks made the baby jerk, and open its eyes.   The carter mumbled a few inaudible words which probably were sympathetic, then cracked his whip and went on his way. Nobody had any time to spare for an abandoned baby.

Now, the urgency of the situation dawned on them. They had to act fast if the baby had to survive.  Involuntarily they found themselves running towards a nearby teashop.  In a few minutes they had fed the baby few drops of water mixed with sugar and a pinch of salt with the help of a dropper.  The sound of the baby sucking the water was music to their ears.  Relieved that the baby was not in any imminent danger they decided to take it home.

Their daughter Nisha could hardly restrain herself when she saw the baby.  Being an only child she had never seen anything so small and delicate.  She was too excited and started nuzzling and fussing the baby. She developed a bond for the baby instantly and declared that he was her baby brother and she would look after him.  It was she who suggested the name ‘Prasad’ (God’s gift) for the baby after they related the story to her.

Savithri, more relaxed now, was quick to feed the baby some diluted milk mixed with sugar which again to her relief, the baby drank lustily.  Ably assisted by Nisha, Savithri gave the baby a warm sponge bath which lulled it to sleep.  An appointment was fixed with Dr.Sridhar, a pediatrician, who was also a family friend. Dr.Sridhar examined the little patient carefully while they waited anxiously for his verdict.  It wasn’t long afterwards that a beaming Dr.Sridhar emerged proclaiming to one and all that the baby was fine and doing well.  He wanted to know what they were going to do with the baby.  He volunteered to help in any way he could. They felt reassured. On their way home they stopped to buy all the infant paraphernalia – some baby clothing, a feeding bottle, diapers etcetera.

After the initial euphoria had worn off, the subject that was lurking in their minds came to the fore.  Mohan was the first to break the ice.  Gently he told Savithri that in spite of their deep feelings for the child, they may have to part with it.  They had to consider that they were both past their prime and rearing a child was no easy matter – he said.  It demanded a great deal of physical and mental energy which he felt Savitri’s delicate health would not be able to shoulder.  Mohan felt that it would be best for them to leave the baby in an orphanage where it would be well looked after. “We could pay for his upkeep and also for his education.  That way we would not be shirking in our duties”- he reasoned.  However, he was quick to add that he would stand by whatever decision Savithri took.

Savithri looked at Mohan with mixed feelings.  Her mind was in turmoil.  She wanted to think rationally.  But she was guided more by the dictates of her heart and also by her total faith in destiny. It would be easy to leave the baby in an orphanage and the matter would be settled.  ‘But was it what God wanted of her?’ she asked herself.

She had been living in a cocoon all these years with the nucleus centred on her husband and daughter.  Perhaps God had given her this occasion to discover new meaning to her existence by entrusting the baby to her.  She could also sense the overpowering feeling of oneness she shared with the baby.  Already the sweet scent of the baby’s odor was all over her. Her whole being was awake.  The baby was becoming an integral part of her. Here was the opportunity to experience the magic of motherhood all over again. How she would love to cuddle and fondle – whisper sweet nothings and watch the baby gurgle with laughter.  Oh for that unadulterated love!

She had made up her mind. She would keep the baby and bring it up as her own.  She did not doubt her inner strength and the support of her husband and daughter, the two pillars of her life. That was how Prasad came to stay with them and became a precious little member of the family.  They conducted the ‘Namkaran’ (Naming) ceremony a few days later to make it known among friends and relatives that they had a child in their family.  It took nearly a year and a half for the formal adoption procedure to be completed.

                          *********

Savithri was stirred from her reverie by the loud and animated chatter of a group of school boys who had come to the park to pluck flowers.  She realized with a tinge of guilt that she had sat for far too long in the park.  She had to hurry. Her husband and son may be getting anxious.  They might even coming looking for her.  Her daughter, Nisha, who was happily married and settled in the States, would be telephoning shortly to convey her birthday wishes to her brother.  Savithri scrambled to her feet and started walking homewards.