Noor, looked at her watch. It was still 1.15 a.m. She closed her eyes and tried to wrap herself with the heavy blanket. She tossed it off again, ahh, How can I feel so hot?
It is one of those freezing days of December and Delhi seemed to welcome the winter with open hands. People, who have no geographical sense or interested in creating sensational news were actually rumouring about a possible snowfall soon.
Noor, struggled herself out of the bed, irritated enough to make a racket. She felt like waking Salim and telling him she cannot sleep and how on earth is he sleeping so soundly. She felt a sudden chill, quickly wrapped around the shawl and went to the kitchen.
The moment she entered, she stopped. Why am I in the kitchen, now? Oh, what is happening? Focus, Noorie. She stood for few seconds and then smiled. She took a bottle, sat down on the kitchen slab. The water was freezing cold, she shivered after every gulp. Enough!
Noor jumped down and thought Shit, don’t do all this now, be careful, silly! She tiptoed into the drawing room, carefully trying to find the remote in the darkness. She knew Salim must have kept it on the side of sofa; he will never ever keep it back on the TV rack, even if she threatens him to. The TV started off with a blast… Uff, Salim’s stupid action movies.
She switched to her favourite channel, BBC Entertainment for any cookery show. What a fool I am, which woman will watch a cookery show at 1.30 at night. They were showing the recession impact in the USA during the 80s.
She stared at the TV, eyes flickering as each image changed. Noor was hardly listening or watching. She slowly touched her tummy. I have never been this fat. Gosh, I am only eating, but I don’t care, as long as Salim doesn’t care. She smiled and her smile vanished. She took her hand of her stomach and closed her eyes, looking for sleep.
She pulled off her shawl and wrapped herself instantly. Is it hot or cold? Noor switched off the TV and went to the other room. The moon light was streaming into the bright yellow painted room, making it even more striking. She sat on the bed and looked around. No furniture in this room, for how long? But we decided to keep it like this, till the very special day. She smiled again.
Noor clasped her hands together and rested her head on it. God, please do hear me out this time. I will not be able to take it again. Positive, positive, please…
She looked up and thought, what if nothing happens. She has to look for another alternative, another way to distract herself from the anguish. I will join a crèche, no, I cannot be with someone else’s kids. I think I will start my dance school. Ofcourse, why didn’t I think of this before. …shut up. Why think of the worse. It will be positive, I cannot be third time unlucky.
She rested her strained back on the bed and closed her eyes. Maybe I should think positive. In an instant, she slept off.
It was almost 9 a.m. when Salim shook her hand and asked, “Are you fine, Noorie?”. Noor sprang up from the bed, looked here and there and clutched Salim’s shirt collar. “What happened, Noorie? Are you OK?”.
“No, I am not feeling OK. I am feeling sick with anxiety.” She rushed to the bathroom, leaving behind a baffled Salim who ran after her.
He waited patiently outside the bathroom for few minutes and then heard Noor cry out his name and then crying. Salim kept shouting out her name and begging her to open the door. He clutched the door handle, attempting to break it, but surprised to find that it wasn’t even locked. Salim rushed inside, thinking of all horrible things.
Noor looked up and handed out the pregnancy strip to him and beamed, “We will be great parents, wont we”.
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