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Anya Basu
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It was a very long wait at the
hospital; over sixteen hours. The waiting room was reasonably comfortable.
There was a TV tuned to Fox News. A news anchor was spitting venom against
President Obama. The restroom or toilet was just next door. The cafeteria was
just a floor above. There were about twenty seats and during most of the day,
apart from Sumita, Sattam and me, there were at the most one or two small
families waiting with us. However, their wait was short. After two to three
hours, an excited member of the family would enter the room, announce the
arrival of a new born and the family would leave jubilant and excited. Around
lunch time, an elderly Indian couple arrived. They had one look at us and
decided to avoid any sort of eye contact. At one point, Sumita caught the
attention of the lady and flashed a friendly smile. The lady turned her face
away. Sumita was very annoyed. Some idle conversation with the family would
have helped us get over the anxious moments. I tried to humour Sumita by
suggesting that probably this couple was a fugitive with billions stacked away at
a Swiss bank and did not want to be identified. Or, probably the guy was an IPL
fixer, who just escaped from the clutches of the sleuths in India. In
short, both of us concluded that they were not good people. After a while, a
young man came in and addressed the couple as papaji and mummyji and whispered
something. They left, happy and excited.
Shamik was in the labour room sending occasional
SMS updating us of the situation.
The scenario changed completely at around 8 PM. A
Mexican family of six walked in talking boisterously breaking the tranquility
of the place. Soon, a few others joined them… then and a few more … and a few
more. In less than half an hour, the place was full of Mexicans. There was no
seat left and a few were actually standing. They were absolutely oblivious of
our presence and went on talking loudly, joking and backslapping each other.
They all spoke Spanish except four teenagers, three girls and a boy. The
younger lot spoke fluent American English. There was an elderly matriarch seated
at the middle who talked the least. She looked like a “Biji” of Hindi soap
operas. She was busy weaving a woolen stole presumably for the soon-to-be-born.
But whenever she frowned, the room went quiet. Her smiles were greeted with
loud cheers. At one point, we were scared to go to the toilet lest our
seats were taken away. The fear was uncalled for. Nobody made an attempt
to occupy Sattam’s chair, when he went out for a walk to get over his anxiety.
Their noisy conversation was getting on our
strained nerves. Somehow, we controlled our emotions. Strangely, they did not
show any signs of concern though they were also awaiting the arrival of a new
member of the family. Half an hour past midnight, when our endurance reached
its limit, there was a MMS from Shamik announcing the arrival of Anya. Now, it
was our turn to celebrate. Three of us hugged each other. Suddenly, the noisy
room went silent and we realized that the crowd was watching us eagerly. One of
the guys asked me in broken English, “Good noose?” I threw my arms in the air
and said, “Yesss, we are grandparents and this young man here is an uncle”. The
entire room stood up and cheered. The Biji gave us a broad smile and said
something that sounded like “Felicitano”. She whispered something to one of the
teenagers. The young girl rushed out and brought three cookies for us.
Suddenly, we were an extended family and the crowd looked so nice and friendly.
I love these Mexicans. Viva la Mexico ....
19 May 2013
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