Its been too long since I have written a blog entry although I use the internet almost 10 hours a day daily (excluding weekends, where I have a high probability of getting killed by the wife if I even give an attempt). But, this time, I have a very valid reason (that is, until you talk to the wife) for not being able to blog.
August 31, 2008 was not such a wonderful day in the history of mankind. No earth shattering scientific discovery or a startling discovery was made that would upset the stomachs of The Vaticans or anything of that sort. It was just that it was our 5th wedding anniversary. On any other year, (meaning for last 4 years), we would have gone to a movie, had lunch and dinner at a hotel, upset our stomach, be satisfied we spent a few thousand bucks down the drain and watch TV. It was not to be this year. We were in a hospital. My entire family (my parents, my brothers, their family, my wife's entire family) was waiting in St. Isabel's hospital. And damn this canteen guys, of all the days in the year, they had to choose today for their annual maintenance work. X-( (damn damn damn) I was roaming everywhere like a puppy who just burnt the tip of his tail. My wife was the one admitted. And she was sitting in the labour room. The kiddo was itching to come out and seems to be readying itself to push its way out of his creation and storage haven for the last 9 months. The contractions were coming at a regular intervals, and everytime it comes, my wife will see hell. I was going crazy to see my wife suffer. I had heard of people suffer a lot of pain during labour time, but this was the first time I was actually looking at one and undergoing the "experience" of being near one. Waves of emotion was floating everywhere. I used to say to people NOT to take any decision when they are emotionally charged. But seeing my wife in that condition, I decided "No more kids". I simply couldn't stand and see her suffering like this for months together, and like a movie climax (or is it the other way round) it peaked at the labour ward.
She was taken into the delivery room at around 8:30 PM. After that, it became worse. I have seen my wife shout. But, it was always in anger and I know how the voice will be. But, now, she was giving out a sound I have not heard before. (Later she told me that she herself didn't realize she was capable of creating so much decibels). It was nearing 10:45, but respite was still far. I was starting to wonder whether the baby will be born on our wedding day itself or born right-just-a-few-seconds-past-midnight and slip into the next day. Then the main doctor came out and told that the baby will be arriving in a few minutes (what the ???). And true to her word, the baby BOY was born at exactly 2300 hours IST on the SAME DAY as our wedding day (5 years ago).
Wooohooooo..... HEEEEHAAAAAA. I am father. This fact , after 3 months hasn't fully sunk into me. I am a father. I am a father. I am a father. (nope, still hasn't). I am able to accept everyone else as a father, even my brother, but not me. I don't know why. I don't know if this is how all newly-formed fathers feel and react. But, I did and I still do.
The moment I heard the news that both the kid and the mom are fine, I couldn't control myself from crying. Well, that was the first time, I broke into fits of uncontrollable crying (maybe the second time. the first time being when I was vacating from my mom's internal parking space), partly to the fact that this ordeal (for me) was over and partly to the fact that my wife's suffering was now over. We stayed there for another 2 days before coming home on Vinayaka Chathurthi. (here, I should highlight that our marriage in 2003 fell on the same day as Vinayaka chathurthi that year).
This is our King. Anthony Bastian
and a newer one (taken on Xmas 2008) here...
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