Mama’s Milk

by Isha Jain

I will have to make one more basket for the other one. It was the first thought that ran through Zora’s mind when the midwife told her she was having twins. She was relieved that Bertha did not refuse to help her as she had done to her friends.

The small room behind the main house was dark when she felt the enormous pressure and then the wetness that she had missed for nine months coating her thighs red. After that, it was all a blur from her husband running to get the midwife at the end of the town to the pain that she felt while delivering the baby.

Bertha had given her a piece of wood to bite. She did not want people in the main house to wake up. She could not see the face of her babies in the light of the single lamp. She tried to get a glimpse as her babies were bundled in the clothes made out of an old bedsheet but she was too tired and fell asleep.

Two girls were born that day, Gona and Mavi. While their mother had the same milk for both, their father seemed to have his arms only for Mavi. At first, Zora did not think anything of it, but after he put her down on the floor when she had rushed to check on the stove after giving her to him, she was confused. He did not say anything while she yelled at him but left and came back home late, drunk and stumbling through the door.

This behavior soon turned into a habit. She would often find him looking at the baskets with anger when he came home. She could not understand why.

She woke up one night and found him going out of the hut with one of the baskets in his hand. The basket was smaller, she had run out of the good straw and they could not get more. She called out his name to stop. But he did not listen. After making sure that Mavi was still sleeping, she ran off after him.

“What are you doing Rob? Where are you taking her?” she shouted after him.

“Go back, Zora. I will be back soon.” He said without turning back. She then noticed the shovel in his other hand and picked up her pace.

“No! I will not let you do this to my girl. Give her back Rob! Give her back to me!” her voice rose high at the end. Tears streamed down her face making it hard to see in the night.

She grabbed his shirt, pulling him back and tried to take the basket away from him. Gona was dropped on the ground during the scuffle between the couple. Zora tried to pick her up but he was faster.

“Please don’t do this. She is just a baby.”

“She will be our doom. It is bad enough that she is a girl and on top of that she is black as night Zora!”

“So are you! I don’t care! She is my child! We will take care of her!” She tried to plead with her husband. She just wanted her baby back in her arms.

“Just go back home. It will be like we always had one child.” She didn’t understand what it meant to be the lowest of the low. She was the lightest in the community and he had always felt lucky to have her.

He was happy to have Mavi placed in his arms that night. She was a reflection of her mother, just as pretty. He hoped the other one would be the same but was stumped when he saw his color in Gona.

Zora snatched her baby away from the monster and tapped her chin, “Wake up darling! Wake up! Mama is here! You want milk? Eh! Mama’s milk?”

The baby did not cry in answer, nor did she open her eyes to look at her mother. The poison given by her father had worked by now. Something white came out of her now blue lips. Zora wiped it away with her sleeves. She tried to wake up her baby for long but she would not cry again.

Gona was buried in her basket. It had lost its handle in the night and had to be tied with rope to be lowered down in the grave. The worker did not take money for his services. He knew Rob and understood his decision. He would have done the same.

Zora didn’t hear what the priest said for her little girl. She wondered if she would feel cold in the earth when it would rain tonight. She should have packed her with more clothes.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she felt Mavi squirming in her hold. She looked at her and tried to find the similarities between two sisters. She could not find any.

After the small funeral, all of those present went home. Rob told her he would come back in the night and left the room.

Zora set crying Mavi in her basket and went to the stove. One of the wood stick fell out of the mix. She took it in her hands. It felt hot in her hands. She lit up the room slowly, choosing to touch every cloth in the room with the fire.

At last, she went to the basket in the room and dropped the stick on the ground. Sweat was running through every pore in her body. The smoke entering Mavi’s body made her cough violently in between bouts of sobbing. Zora picked her baby up to feed her.

“Hush darling! Hush! Mama is here! You want milk? Eh! Mama’s milk?”

Isha Jain author of Mama's Milk

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