The Hen and the egg

She heaved a sigh of relief when her bottom fell heavy on the ground. Soon tears covered her face like blood oozing out of a wound. She sat distraught and relieved across a kaccha wall of freshly layed bricks. The reflexes forced her palm onto her swollen belly and she sat there praying while trying her best to silence the rhythym of her breath and the pounding heart...

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She ripped through the grass fields with her little palms trying to be out of sight for the old grandmother whose jug she had broken. The old woman continuously cursed and mumbled unintelligibly. "Girls are a pain, I told him but who gives value to the words of this old thing? Losing my sanity am I? This little bitch had made life hell" she finished while looking for another jug in the dust coated shelves.

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She rested under the wall for several hours and woke up only when the early morning rays brushed her pale face. She rubbed her eyes and tried to rise at one go and a flinching pain passed her belly and upper high. Her scream echoed in the nearby fields. She somehow gathered herself and decided to walk. The destination was not as close as she thought..

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She wept after being beaten up mercilessly for the nuisance she caused. "A well deserved punishment" as per the granny, followed by another round of slaps that began in full swing . A robust man barged into the house. "Is this what you old people love doing? For god's sake, look at her?! Arent you woman yourself?" The old woman shrugged, slowly crossed the threshold and disappeared into the curtains.

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She fell on the stairs resting unconscious not being able to bear the pain and exhaustion any longer. Her legs gave up at the very sight of destination being SO close. Spotted her was a man is his late fifties. He stared at her non-plussed, held her by the arms, tapped on her cheeks thinking it was one of those rag pickers waiting to earn some morning bread. The lines on his forehead burrowed deeper when he stared at her swollen belly. This was definitely not the usual..

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The women whispered in their low tones to the others witnessing this miraculous spectacle. They stood aghast not knowing what end this would see. The old man held a newborn in his hand, covered in vermillion, crying and reaching out to her lifeless birth giver.