Entry 12
Word Count: 1474
Ujala threw the grocery bag on the kitchen counter. The afternoon had taken a lot out of her. Learning about Hannah’s death had come as a physical ache, and had pushed her deepest worries and concerns to the background of her life. Now, coming back to the place that was home, for better or for worse, she was once again assaulted with the reality of the baby. Abbott was right. She did not have a choice in the matter. She had to iron out her feelings about it sooner rather than later.
She was very irritated in that moment however, and somewhat exhilarated, and both emotions were caused by the unruly young man she had met at Jeya’s store. First of all, how hard is it to pronounce Umer, she wondered. It was two syllables, and how embarrassing to mispronounce one’s own name. It was the name of one of the Prophet’s close friends and followers, and how he was disrespecting that name. Granted, many people called her Ojala, Oojala, or a variation thereof, but she was always quick to correct them, or at least make an effort to guide them towards the correct pronunciation.
She was also feeling quite pleased with herself though for telling this stranger off. It had been a low blow, a very feminine way to shoo away his advances, but it had given her an opportunity to blow some steam off. He had taken it well, poor guy, she thought and laughed to herself.
Her nausea was coming back. Morning sickness, Dr. Laubly had told her to expect it, but it came in waves and phases all times of the day. She emptied Neopolitan ice-cream in a bowl and took it in front of the television. She turned on Kabhi Kabhi, one of the movies she had rented and was soon lost in it.
Ammar came back at his usual time, and was surprised to see her in front of the movie with a bowl of ice-cream.
“I see the hysterics have ended. Did you decide to follow my advice?” he asked.
“Shove it, Ammar. I am watching a movie,” she said directly without looking at him, shocking both Ammar and herself with the anger in her voice.
“So I see. I will ask you to be please maintain a level of civility in this house. It is my house, after all,” he said matching the ice in her voice.
“Look who’s talking about civility,” she said and looked at him until he turned his face away.
“Kabhi Kabhi. Interesting movie choice,” he remarked, more to make conversation than anything else.
“Spare me the small talk. Since when do you like anything Indian or Pakistani,” she said.
“I didn’t say I liked it. I just said it was interesting. What is wrong with you?” he asked irritated.
“You. You are wrong with me. You are wrong with my life. And you know what’s worse? The fact that you have the audacity to ask what’s wrong,” she yelled without meaning to.
“Relax, will you?” he said.
“Get out. Just please leave me in peace,” she said as her voice started to break.
“All right, I’m leaving. But, please think about what I said last night. It might be best for both of us,” he said and left without waiting for her to respond.
Ujala’s mood had turned sour. She turned off the movie and went to her room. She had been able to distract herself the whole day, but at night, laying down in the warmth of her bed, with the lights off, and the rustle of the wind outside her window, she could not elude the reality that had to be dealt with.
She thought about what grew inside her. Would it feel pain if she were to get rid of it. Get rid of it, what an odd choice of words, she thought. Like you were throwing away last night’s leftovers. It was still microscopic in her womb, so small, almost unreal. She could forget about it after getting the operation. She could go home, start her life one more time, and never remember the events of this year.
She stroked her stomach, flat as it had always been. Did she have the right to kill it, she thought. Yes, it was not a baby yet, but it had the potential to be a baby, a human being, a person. Could she take away its right to come into the world? The answer was ready at the tip of her tongue. She could not. But at the same time, she could not mother this child. She simply could not acknowledge it as her own.
There was much to think about, but she acknowledged what she had known since the night before as she dozed off to sleep. She would not abort the baby.
When Ujala woke up the next morning, the simple thought that had planted itself in her consciousness the night before had grown into a resolute decision. She was certain with all the might in her being that she was going to tell Ammar about what she had decided. It was still early. The sky was just beginning to turn light, and she could hear birds chirping incessantly outside her window.
She crept out of her bed and took a quick shower. She hurried downstairs and cooked eggs, toasted some bread, and set the table for breakfast. While she was preparing breakfast, she had heard Ammar going into the shower and getting ready for work. When she heard him coming downstairs, she called out of the kitchen, “Eat with me. I need to talk to you.”
Stunned at the absence of anger in her voice and the invitation to join her for breakfast, Ammar said nothing and took a seat at the table. Ujala came out of the kitchen carrying a pitcher of orange juice and two glasses.
“It looks great,” said Ammar.
“Yes,” she acknowledged.
Quietly, they began to eat. Ujala was fidgeting with her food nervously. She drank two glasses of juice, but ate very little.
“So, you wanted to talk,” prompted Ammar.
“Yes,” she said.
When she did not continue, Ammar cleared his throat nervously. He was reaching the end of his meal.
“Well, I thought about what you offered,” said Ujala.
“Good. And did you come to a decision?” he asked.
“Yes, I did. But, I think I have an alternate plan. Similar, but not the same as you suggested,” she said.
“I’m all ears,” he said.
“I don’t want to abort the baby,” she said.
“Ujala, you must think about this rationally. It is a matter of both of our lives,” he said.
“You don???t preach about matters of life, Ammar. Haven’t you caused enough ruin to be ashamed of saying something like that? Now, if you let me finish, you will find that I want to be rid of you just as much as you want to do away with your spawn,” she said.
Ammar reddened with anger and discomfort, but held his tongue.
“Carry on, please,” he said pointedly.
“I want to take the pregnancy to term, but I want to give up the baby. I don’t think I can handle raising a child born out of rape. After the child is born, you can help me finish the appropriate official dealings to give it up for adoption, and then we can finish this marriage,” she said.
“That is a time period of nine months. Your body will go through immense changes. It will be a complete overhaul. How will you handle that?” he asked.
“That is my decision to make, my pain to bear. Do you agree with this plan? Nothing has to change. I will stay out of your way. You will have to take care of my prenatal visits to the doctor, and obviously you will have to take care of all the official business of adoption. I don’t know how it works. I suppose you need a lawyer,” she said.
“We can go through an agency,” he said reluctantly.
“Perfect. Why don’t you look into that?” she said.
“Are you certain about this?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” she said.
“You still have time. You can change your mind whenever you want,” he said.
“I don’t think that is likely,” she said in an empty voice.
“How can you feel nothing about this?” he asked.
“You don’t have the right to ask me this question, but if you really want to know, just like you felt nothing while raping me,” she said.
“I lost myself,” he said lowering his eyes.
“And now I have to lose myself, because I cannot take away this baby’s right to be born,??? she said.
“It is your decision,” he said.
“Yes, it is,” she said. “Yes, it is.”
ABOUT