Every day, I wake up at the crack of dawn and find my way to the pond 100 meters away from the house. I pinch my nose and take three dips in the chilling water, eye the sun for a few seconds through the hazy mist of dawn and chant the words of God that could bless my womb with a single sprout.
The sun shines on unhindered, and I walk home trembling like a leaf in monsoon winds.
This afternoon, in the doctor’s consulting room when I see the picture of a zygote pasted on the wall across me, I am reminded of my daily prayers and my icy mornings. The single cell from where life begins looks to me like a plain, colorless sun. Continue reading “The First Six Meters | Vidya Panicker”
THE FEM 