The moon had turned a pale yellow as it began to set on the horizon. I couldn’t tell how long I had been walking, but I had still only reached the canal bank.
“During a full moon, babies are born before their time,” Bhaggan had said to the midwife earlier that day. Bhaggan was aware of the seasons and the movements of the heavens, but to me they were a backdrop with no direct impact on my life. Bhaggan’s experiences took on a new meaning for me now that she was dead. It was as if she spoke from above, was guiding me toward the cane field. Or was I imagining it? My back pain was testimony to the truth she spoke.
I should have listened to her. Remembered her wisdom before leaving the house.
Why had I forgotten myself upon seeing Bhaggan’s lifeless body? Yes, I needed to get to Maalik, but surely he wouldn’t want me walking all this distance in the dark. I should have thought of my daughter. What would happen if my time came now, out here with no one to help me? With no one to care for her? I had made a choice that would leave my own daughter in the same precarious situation in which I had begun my life.
The hyenas were no longer quiet. I heard a dog bark, responding to their howls. The path in front of me was darkening, and I could no longer tell where I was going. I followed the hyenas’ mourning howls, knowing that the barking dogs meant that Maalik was close by. I stumbled down the path that led to the cane fields. I forgot the pain of my swollen feet. I ignored the liquid creating a trail behind me.
“Unclean water will leave your body and create a passage for your baby,” the midwife had explained to me. Did that mean the baby would be here sooner than I expected? Before my baby was born, I needed to find Maalik. He needed to know about his mother.
But how would I tell him? Bhaggan had made the long journey to the midwife’s house to prepare for my childbirth. She had cared for me as even my own mother hadn’t. And I had let her die alone. I should have stayed with her when she was calling out to Sultan in her sleep. I should have held her hand and comforted her, let her know how much she meant to me. But now she was gone.
I had prided myself on never crying. Now, when I needed to so badly, my tears remained inside me. I had trained my body not to react, and now it was doing what it had learned.
Maalik would understand. It was nighttime. He would have had his bidi. He would know what I was feeling. I knew it, but I needed to get to him, and I kept stumbling, and my baby kept kicking, excited about the activity at a time when I was usually fast asleep.
As I stumbled toward the fields, I felt a dull pain in my back. My shallow breathing made my head spin. I stopped and sat on a tree stump to try to catch my breath. I felt a dry heave wrench my body, but nothing came out. I had not eaten since I had had the biscuit with tea that the midwife had served us earlier that day. I stared at my swollen feet, now muddied by the liquid leaving my body and the dust from the path. I breathed deeply three, four times. I looked up at the night sky. The moon was disappearing, replaced with a universe of stars.
Was Bhaggan now up in the heavens? Could I make her out in the stars above? I imagined her caring for me, even as she was no longer on this earth. I felt her warmth as a protection around me. A gnawing fear began nibbling inside me, but her memory calmed me and gave me the power to move on.
I reminded myself to breathe deeply before my insides took control of my body again. My back pain became less intense. I focused on the brightest star in the sky.
Maalik had called me his star. Was I that one? Or the smaller one next to it that kept disappearing?
I needed to get back up and find Maalik. I imagined him on the charpoy we shared at night. It was a cool night, but he would have stayed outside. He would be listening to hyenas and wondering why they were howling.
I could hear the dogs, too. Where were they? What had happened to cause such a commotion?
I pulled myself off the stump and began walking toward the canal. A few fireflies were still dancing on the water. How long would they live? They died when their light went out.
My backache returned, this time more intense. Heavier. It was as if my baby were pushing against my stomach with her feet and leaning heavily against my back. My breathing became shallow again. The dry heaving returned. I needed to call out for Maalik, for anyone, to come. My voice would travel at this time of night, but I couldn’t bring myself to call out.
I was now crossing the canal and could hear the hyenas. They were calling from the cane fields. What had happened that they wouldn’t stop calling? My fear began reaching for my heart. It was now feasting on my insides. It began to suffocate me, and I covered my mouth with my dopatta to keep my breath from escaping. I needed to move on and not let the fear paralyze me.
My eyes strained as I peered into the darkness in front of me. Shadows moved, even though the night was still. I tripped over a rock and steadied myself. I was halfway between Saffiya’s house and our hovel. Would anyone find me before it was too late?
A thin mist descended on the canal. From the fields, a rat-like animal scuttled in front of me and jumped into the water. What could have terrified it so to make it take its own life by drowning? What was hiding low in the fields? Was it someone crouching, concealing itself from the hyenas? Or was there something more ominous? The unimaginable jinn of the night? I squeezed my eyes shut and recited the prayers I had memorized under Zakia’s tutelage.
The memory of Zakia angered me. I thought of Bhaggan again, but now I found no comfort. Was her spirit following me? Had I created such pain and anguish for her that she would haunt me for the rest of my life? Would my prayers reach her spirit? Would she be with me during the challenge? Hurriedly, I looked behind me, but could see only a darkened blur in the distance. Saffiya’s house. My home.
I no longer had control over my body. My fear was suffocating me and pushing my insides out. The midwife had said I shouldn’t walk long distances. She had said I should stay with Saffiya until the baby came. I should have listened to her. I should have stayed home. I should have called on Bibi Saffiya when I found Bhaggan. She would have taken care of everything, like she always did.
My baby was ready to come before I was prepared for her. She didn’t care. My legs could no longer hold up my body, and I collapsed on the canal bank. I clawed at a clump of grass, anything to steady me. But the pain consumed me.
I lay back on the bank as the pain subsided. I fumbled to open the string that kept my shalwar up and surrendered myself to what was happening.
The pain returned in phases, each more excruciating than the previous. Never before had I experienced such bodily torture. How would I survive it? It had such power that it had taken over my mind.
I shut my eyes and imagined the Maryam flower. When the pain subsided for a while, I thought the magic of the memory might be working. But then it returned, even stronger. How had Bhaggan endured this time after time? The calm and confident midwife, with her loving children—she had gone through this, too. I couldn’t imagine how they had continued their lives after enduring the agony. I pushed to end it.
And then an ecstasy enveloped me like a cloud and I gave in to it. I felt my baby exit my body. I heard a whimper, like a kitten, and then a loud, angry cry.
I had survived. I pulled myself up to a sitting position and saw a small, bloodied body lying between my legs. Her dark hair was plastered to her skull. And then she opened her hazel eyes and looked into mine. A teardrop trickled down my cheek.
I took my dopatta and wiped her. She was still attached to me, and I didn’t know how I would cut the cord, but I held her to my chest and she suckled my breast.
When I lay back with her, my whole being filled with a peacefulness I could have only dreamed about. My body kept depositing liquids, and I now felt light-headed and delirious and drifted into blissful sleep, choosing to ignore, for now, the dangers around and within me.