Lost Baby Girl

The bright spring morning

Came with unusual light.

The flowers bloomed prettier.

Alas! Their scent unnatural.

 

 

There stopped a car,

On 26 Highway.

Towards my house,

Headed a small family.

 

 

Cops were standing by —

On the 26 Highway,

The small family moved inside

Welcomed by my parents.

 

 

They called me in.

I saw my mother

Wet with a monsoon of tears —

Winter gripped me.

 

 

I was asked to take a seat.

The small family stared at me;

Their eyes shared happiness,

Yet hid tears of pain.

 

 

The father of the small family —

A fair, middle-aged man;

Wise eyes but unfamiliar face

Held firmly his wife’s hand.

 

 

The mother, a pretty white lady;

Motherly love in her eyes

Seemed as if waiting to take hold

Her child tightly against her chest.

 

 

There smiled a teenage boy across from me.

A slim, handsome and smart adolescent

Had brotherly affection on his face.

No sign of teenage attraction.

 

 

My father — a man in his late fifties,

Cleared his throat.

Put his right hand around my mother’s shoulder.

My mother — a woman in her late thirties.

 

 

He began a story.

Without any background information,

I was left listening to it attentively;

And infer why the spring morning was weirdly bright.

 

 

The room observed dead silence.

The story began:

 

Birth of a child

Couples in an unfamiliar country.

 

Stormy day with thunder and lightning.

Husband out for ticketing,

Wife asleep with her six-month-old baby by her side,

Two-and-half-year-old son teasing his baby sister.

 

 

Suddenly everything grew darker.

When the light creped inside the darkness,

The family lost their Baby Girl.

Mother fainted, son cried, father ran here and there.

 

 

Vain! Went in vain all their search.

The family returned to their homeland.

Happiness became a mythical dream

Which none of them dared to dream of.

 

 

The Baby Girl was carried

To the remote part of the country,

Replaced for a-year-old Baby child

Whose soul had just separated from her body.

 

 

The replacer found it a safer way

To hid the Baby Girl.

Abductionists were to pull

A great deal of revenge and possession.

 

 

Years passed.

No one, not even the dead Baby child’s parents

Knew the Baby Girl wasn’t theirs’.

Left alone the abductionists and the dead Baby Child’s grandfather.

 

 

The crime was no more hidden

Immediately after the abductionists were nailed.

The spark of hope

Illuminated the household of the small family.

 

 

The small family filled with joy

Visited the remote part.

Found out where their Baby Girl

Was growing up as a teenager now.

 

 

At this point of story,

My mother’s sobbing destroyed the silence.

She came to me and hugged me tightly.

“You are my own child; my own blood and flesh.”

 

 

Unspoken fear ran inside  me.

My father spelled it out —

“You are their lost Baby Girl.

Our child was dead. We are childless.”

 

 

For the first time,

I saw him with tearful eyes.

After that an hour long story,

I was no more a daughter of my father and mother.

 

 

The room nearly flooded with the downpouring of tears.

For the timing, I felt I was no one of nowhere.

The small family,

Were related to me by birth and blood.

 

 

There were enough evidences

To prove to me their lost Baby Girl.

My blood-related parents found their Baby Girl.

I lost my father and mother— a whole self of me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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