CONTINUED…
They were madly in love. Happiness glowed on their cheeks when they faced the colourful world. Mark and Susan were the children of prosperous parents. Although life had been kind to them, only a few, as they would later prove, received God’s blessings in the form of material possessions. Mark’s house was full of guests. It was there that, in fact, he met Susan. A series of them followed the first meeting. They decided to seal their relationship, and with their parents’ consent, they got engaged. Mark was a handsome boy. Girls did vie with each other for his attention. One such girl was his parents’ choice for his partner. Obviously, she was the daughter of his mother’s friend. Very compatible, as she was in and out of their house frequently and was almost like a family member. Mark liked her, but the liking never developed into love.
Mark was a businessman, and his commitments kept him busy for the day. The company’s stock is experiencing a decline. He told a colleague. The clients are dissatisfied and unwilling to invest. We’ll have to work the nights. But he spared some time every day for his beloved. Sometimes, over a meal with flowers, he would remind her that he loved the colour of her eyes, and he always had time for such sentiments.
After a brief engagement, they married. They went off on their honeymoon to Switzerland. Switzerland was an ideal place. A place without an army. A peaceful setting, detached from the morbid states engaged in war. Among so many people, from all around the world, the two of them saw only each other. Walking in the shadows of the Alps, hand in hand, they made a commitment never to let this end. ‘Wear your skis. I’ll race you. I’m too scared. Take the plunge. ’ ‘Ooo—oop—oops’. She was out of sight. Discovered in a pile of snow. ‘I thought I told you to watch it at the curve. ’ Seeing her red nose poke through the snow, he stifled a giggle. Having made a memorable trip to separate them, guess who else was there? The same girl. She had not accepted defeat. She tried to blackmail him by using his mother. Her befitting attitude towards his mother was a result of her long association with him. She was a skilled cook, unlike his mother, and as they say, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. She once cooked a meal that was so tasty that they licked their fingers clean. Susan’s ego was offended.
But there was always Mark’s shoulder to lean on. He assured and reassured her. There was no need to worry. The ‘uninvited guest’ would never change his love for her. For other couples, they were the epitome of the ideal married life. His mother would tell him that marriage was not a bed of roses and not to be disappointed if anything went against his wishes. She went on, saying that Mark’s father had been short-tempered at the start of their marriage, and many times she kept quiet when he had an anger fit. Mark retorted, “I know, Mom; I think I can handle it.” You make it sound so difficult when, in fact, it’s not. ‘The situation would get out of control, otherwise.’ She advised him, as any mother would advise her son.
Susan conceived a child in their first year of marriage. Their first child was not planned. The gynaecologist examined her every month. A girl was a great help to the mother, and they desired her as their firstborn. Frills and bows, all pink with linen to match—Susan visualised her daughter’s frocks and her room. Susan’s mother had excellent taste, which showed in Susan’s attire. She was once nominated for the best-dressed person at a party.
It was the eighth month of pregnancy. An ultrasound showed that it was a girl. Yet their elders were reluctant to make any baby clothes or other things for the baby beforehand. They felt that others would be envious, and that was not a good sign.
‘I can’t wait to see her. ’ As he felt the baby turn in Susan’s belly. ‘Then you’ll say you’re pressed for time, because she is a handful.’ That will never happen. ‘We’ll see. ’ She had the final say on the matter.
The name —What should the name be? Natasha was selected. Natasha was a Russian name. Susan’s parents had spent some years in Russia. Her father had held a favourable post in the Pakistan Embassy there. Her mother liked the name and had wanted to name her grandchild Natasha.
The delivery time was near. She experienced contractions. The doctor and nurses were by her side. But God’s blessing escaped them. Susan’s life was in danger. The parents prayed on their knees. ‘Oh! God, please save her. If you hold our sins against us, do not let her suffer for them. Some complications developed. Could it be that the evil spirit had entered Susan’s body? This was the evil spirit that the fortune teller had warned Mark about. Could the combined strain of giving birth and battling the evil spirit have exhausted Susan to the point of death? Mark awoke to religion as he had been advised by the fortune teller – better late than never. The doctor did everything in his power to save both mother and child. It was touch and go. They all huddled together outside the operating theatre, looking at each other for strength. The doctor arrived, his face sullen. The message he was about to convey to them was obvious.
Susan breathed her last on a shocked Mark’s lap. The parting gift, Natasha, lay in the nurse’s hands. Caught between sorrow and happiness, he had to decide to get over his sorrow for Natasha, Susan’s, and his Natasha.
Even to this day, holding Natasha’s finger, he visits the grave, talks to her, and gets her response. It seems like she is telling him, “Do not give up for Natasha.” And little Natasha clasps her hands in prayer, taught to her by her father. In a whisper, she recites———in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.’ Amen. He walks away with the child, a smile on his face, ready to take on the world. And still in the race is the girl, who, however much she tries, will not change matters, nor should she push through Natasha. She would not give up. Mark was worth it. Manufacturers no longer produce people like him.
