“How do you have so many things to pack?”
I was folding the last of my clothes, but most of what I packed were baby items gifted to us from all the volunteers and Mausi’s friends. Vishnu had bought me a new green scarf with a matching baby hat during a short visit back when I told him I was pregnant. While I finished my studies in India and secured my paperwork with the help of Ladki Rights, I was able to gain a full scholarship admission to an art program with the City College of New York to begin right after the New Year. It was perfect timing with my birth date.
I was eighteen years old, but it was hard to believe I was four years younger than him. My life experiences made me feel much older.
“I need to pack everything that reminds me of my India,” I explained.
He smiled at the reference. When I had started my studies, I told him I could not leave my country behind. He knew it had to do with Asya too, and he had dedicated almost all of the volunteer staff at Ladki Rights to work on finding her whenever they could be spared from their other projects. It was a battle I still faced, leaving my sister behind, but as I touched my belly, I knew it was the right decision.
“We could go see your puppa again, you know, before we go.”
I had stayed in touch with Dadi and Dada since we reunited. Vishnu had purchased a prepaid cell phone for them to use. They often called to see if we had any updates on finding Asya. But they also called to ask for money.
Not long after our visit, Puppa stopped working and started drinking again. I remembered how it was when Mummy was sick and told Vishnu not to send them anything. I told him to turn off their phone. He was surprised, told me to think about it. He had grown up without a father, and he likely thought I was throwing away a chance at a relationship with him. I understood his sensitivity to that. But I was done with him, and with Dada and Dadi enabling his actions. The only family I wanted was my sister.
Vishnu never looked for his own father and said he never would. He often said, “I will never be the father my father was to our baby.” My experience had taught me that men were always a problem; their anger, their embarrassment, their desires all ended in my own pain. But when I looked into Vishnu’s eyes, the conviction I saw there made me believe him.
That was why I trusted his plan to have the baby in the US, wait six months, then return to India when we could. Everyone in the NGO would still be searching. It would be good for the baby to be born as a US citizen, for me to start my program. I could always go part-time later, he said. The uncertain future scared me, and not knowing if I would find Asya saddened me, but I trusted myself to trust him; it was all I could do.