The Report

Trishna broke down into huge sobs as she saw what was written in the reports the doctor had just handed to her. Clutching it tightly to her breasts she wailed loudly, screaming out her husband’s name over and over again. The doctor did not attempt to stop her. He allowed Trishna to let it all out. Over the years the doctor had become Trishna’s and her husband’s friend. He knew all about the anguish both of them had endured these past 15 years. Shyam was the plank of wood which had kept Trishna afloat all these years. A freak road accident had snatched away that support from her. On the way back from his morning walk, he had almost reached home, when a speeding truck lost control and hit him. But Trishna did not break down then. She held on to his memories and his words had continued to be the plank of wood that she clung on to even after his death.

Today, two weeks later, it was the reports in her hands that broke her down. These reports would have been the harbinger of the greatest happiness of their lives had it come earlier and been shared by Shyam. The doctor knew that. Just two months ago the couple had decided that this would be the last procedure they would undergo in search of happiness. It was the news the couple had been waiting for, for their entire life of togetherness. It was the news about continuance of life; a life they had been trying so hard to create for the last 15 years; a life they had at last created but which Shyam shall never know. A life who will never know her Shyam.

The reports in her hand said that the last procedure they had undergone together had succeeded. Their 8^th IVF and she was pregnant at last.