Note: This blog is a guest post by Neelam Mirchandani. My sincere thanks to her for the time and efforts.

I could feel the soft skin on my arms. There was a warm rush in my heart, as warm as the blood running in her veins. My joy knew no bounds. I had waited so eagerly for her, and now, she was finally here, right here in my arms. I couldn’t stop smiling. She smiled too. I couldn’t take my eyes off her beautiful face. Her looks … mesmerizing! Beady eyes, small red nose, cotton-like chubby cheeks, silky smooth thick hair. Wow!

She was fresh, smelling good; I didn’t want to put her down. I didn’t want to hurt her skin. She was mine, all mine. There was one and only one person I wanted to share her with. Her father. She had my looks and his eyes. He took her from my arms, carefully; smiled an eternal smile. His face flushed, eyes watered. The tears  in his eyes were of joy. His blood, skin, bones. A form of life he helped me get into this world. He gazed at her, as if endlessly. It was the most beautiful moment of our lives.

Her first birthday. A red dress, net. With satin flowers. She looked nothing less than a princess. A tiny diamond crown gave a perfect finishing touch to the look. She was loved and admired by the whole neighborhood. She was the reason for most of the smiles around her. She was a gift, not only for us, but everyone who came across her, even for a short while. This love for her brought many a people to wish her on her birthday. They got her gifts, presents. To everyone’s astonishment, she accepted only flowers. Such beautiful was she, even from within, at such a tender age.

Her teachers never complained about her misbehaving in the school. No one even dared to trouble her. Such was her nature and aura.

One day she returned home late from college. There was a sudden feeling of unhappiness in me; as if someone suddenly hit me hard in the chest. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. She didn’t seem as happy as she usually did. I could feel a certain fear creep into me. My better half, my only support, held my hand tight. His touch consoled me, usually, however not this time. I wanted to speak to her, but words didn’t seem to leave my lips. Did I go mute? What was wrong with me? I started to hear voices around me. What was the commotion all about? I could sense panic in the air.

A warm drop of water fell on my cheek. And another. Yet another. Someone was crying. Who was it? My eyes seemed heavy to open. They felt as if they had cried before. I tried my best to open them. My vision was blurred. He was crying, bitterly. I tried to get my head off the pillow to hug him and ask him what was wrong. I felt severe pain in my stomach, as if someone had cut through it and taken away a part of me. It was strange feeling of emptiness and pain.

Before he could reach out to me to calm me down, I had figured it all out. I had lost her. We had lost her. Lost her much before she could come into the world, much before she could fulfill our dreams, much before she could spread smiles. It hurt. Hurt more than my womb did. My heart was pierced, soul was lifeless. My dreams were shattered, my princess was lost.

By: Neelam Mirchandani

Author’s Personal Blog: Lost World Found

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