I responded to that one phone call.
It offered me hope.
I sought solace in that unfamiliar sound.
******
Here I was walking into a club lounge.
The place was unfamiliar. Why have I come to this place? Was it desperation that brought me here?
Was it the ray of hope that I followed to reach here?
An unknown voice, an unfamiliar face. I shouldn’t have come here. Am I doing something wrong?
I have not told my husband about this meeting.
My gut feeling said, just give it a try.
Now here I am, walking into an unknown place to meet a stranger.
“Hey, you must be Anjali”.
I turned around to see a young man a little over 30, dressed in smart trousers and a shirt.
I questioningly looked at him before recalling the voice.
“I am Rakesh, he stretched out his hand.”
He gently led me to a corner table in the lounge.
“Would you like to have some juice?”
I was dumbstruck but came back to my senses.
“Orange juice, please.” I was still awestruck and really didn’t know what to say.
“How did you get my number; how did you recognize me?
“Oh, that is not important; the world is small,” Rakesh laughed. “Okay, coming to the point, why did you agree to meet me?”
I was still looking for words to express myself.
Why am I here, sitting before a stranger without any anxiety but blushing slightly over his dapper looks?
“I want to be a mother. It is my dream for years. Three years of marriage and no issue.”
“I can relate to your feelings. My wife and I faced the same problem. Finally, we had a child by IVF treatment. Let me tell you that it is such a tedious and stressful procedure. We have met many childless couples who are going through the stress of not having a child. So we have formed a support group. We meet every fortnight. Would you like to join the group?”
The orange juice glass had beads of condensed water around it.
I joined the group and began to attend meetings. I did not tell Aditya anything about this, hoping to convince him later.
Rakesh’s wife seemed to be a sweet woman. I was in a comfort zone at the meetings. The burden that I carried was eased as I spoke and listened to others share their woes. The support group meetings were held at different places.
On a particularly leisurely day at the office, I received a message from Rakesh: Meeting today at 7. The venue address followed.
The meeting place was not too far from my office.
“I am going to meet Snehal, so I may come home a little late,” I messaged Aditya.
“Okay,” Aditya promptly replied.
It was around 6.30 when I reached the meeting venue. The door was slightly ajar. As I reached out to knock on the door, I heard Rakesh saying something.
“Snehal, it is time to trap that new fish. Anjali trusts us completely. We can bring up the topic with her today. Abdul bhai also called up saying that five babies have arrived. We cannot hold them for long, so we have to finalise the adoptions. I have briefed Sheetal on preparing the documents.”
Beads of perspiration rolled down my face. I stood petrified for a moment.
I recalled Sheetal, our office receptionist, hurriedly walking away when I had finished my conversation with Ritu. Determined, I walked into the room with a fake smile.
The others were yet to arrive.
“Anjali, so how are things at your home now?” Snehal said in her poisonous, honey-laced tone.
I could have won an award for my acting skills.
“Aditya still does not show any interest. Can you suggest a solution?” I said in a weak voice, though I was raging from inside.
The couple quickly fixed the dates to see a baby and proceed with the adoption.
On the scheduled day, Aditya and I walked into an orphanage at a quiet location in the suburbs.
Snehal and Rakesh showed us an infant wrapped in a white cloth.
“Please sign these papers, and you can take the baby home.”
Aditya quietly gave a missed call to Inspector Jadhav.
The next day, newspapers and news channels carried a story of the adoption racket. Pictures of the gang were flashed.
Aditya and I have now legally adopted a baby girl.
It’s not rocket science.
Pradnya Surve
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