Have you held a gun in your hand and felt terrified about pulling the trigger?
Have you looked at that bug crawling near your bed and thought about squishing it?
And then have you felt awful for wanting to kill it?
There are times when we do hold someone’s life in our hands, even if it is as tiny as a bug.
There was a time when I held someone’s life in my hands. And that some one was my own baby.
Dec 27, 2011
My regular gynaecologist, Sonia, is out of town, So I’ve an appointment with Dr Ruchi instead. She’s a happy-looking, friendly woman in specs and a saree.
“So, you’re planning to have a baby?” she asks pleasantly.
“Well, this isn’t exactly planned…” I tell her nervously…” We weren’t intending this to happen so soon…” But I had misunderstood her.
“No, I mean, but you are planning to continue the pregnancy, right?”
Of course. Of course. I hear my mind saying it even before I say it out loud. I cannot think of that word. I cannot think of murder. For all my crying and wrath and resentment, not once have I thought about not ‘continuing with it’. The thought makes me want to throw up.
And that’s what makes me realise that I hold this tiny little life in my hands. It’s survival, it’s growth, it’s entire existence–it’s all up to me.
It also made me realise that I’m not such a bad person after all… perhaps I was selfish, I wanted my life to be just so. But I wasn’t selfish enough to want to kill someone for it.
Yes ma’m, however much might people say that the foetus isn’t alive until so and so time, in your heart, you know it is. You know it is, because every single second, it grows. And growth is the only sign of life.
So yes, I have held someone’s life in my hands. And that has made me realise that all life is sacred. Even a tiny foetus.
Or for that matter, even a bug.