The Blue Bicycle and the Cycle of Want.

Years ago, when I joined a new school in a new city, the parents got me a bicycle. It was a Blue Atlas, a hand me down from a family friend. It was old, but otherwise in perfect working order.Only that it was made for someone half my height. At 5 feet 7, I towered over most kids in my class ( most kids in my school rather).I am sure it must have been an amusing sight, my towering frame perched on that small cycle, paddling away to glory. We accompanied each other to the new school, settled into a routine till the new was not so new anymore. And then, the teasing started. One boy started calling my blue bicycle 'Priya's Ranger '. Ranger was the latest range of Hero cycles... with broad tyres and straight handle and trendy rugged looks. Children can be far more cruel than adults, and the teasing got worse. I started leaving for school earlier and parking my cycle at the back gate of the school. Then I stopped taking the cycle to the school and took a city bus. And finally one day I asked folks to get me a new cycle. Meanwhile, the pressures of exam and other activities meant that I could not waste a couple of hours everyday in the bus, and then again , reluctantly and resentfully, we went to school together. I tired to increase the height by elevating the seat and the handles, and it ended up looking funnier and uncomfortable.
The bicycle became the center of my existence. The first thing I checked in the newspaper was the classified with the offers for the new cycles, their price and the schemes. The first thing I noticed about anyone was their cycle.I hated the blue bicycle like I have never hated anyone or anything in the world. what I remember most about those days is the sense of helplessness at not being able to do anything to get rid it.
Then one day I read somewhere, "Judge someone not by what they have, but what they are". and after that, I tried to find solace in this. But inwardly vowed that when I grew up, there will not be any blue bicycle in my life.
And so it happened. I got what I wished, almost always.And almost always, more than the things that money brought, the empowering feeling that I could buy them was more enjoyable. It was a heady feeling to decide what you want and get it right away.
Till some days ago, when a colleague showed his spanking new gizmo, and I was sold. The apple of temptation beckoned again, and I was more than eager to yield to it. The blue bicycle syndrome was rearing its head again. Somehow this time, I looked at myself and realized that all the buying in the world cannot make up for the blue bicycle. The urgency to distinguish between needs and wants hit me.  
The blue bicycle has finally been returned to where it belonged, in the past. And I am happy with oranges, apples will come when they will.

The Interview

The interview was going well. Except the lady with spectacles who was buried in her file, the three professors nodded and made relevant noises to all I said. Once when I was wandering off to a tangent, the gentleman gently goaded me back and hinted at the right answer. They collectively shifted in their seats, signaling that the encounter was about to end. Just as I relaxed my guard and began thinking about the train that I had to catch that evening to get back home came the last question. Like the typical interview which does not end without an open ended question, the lady asked me " Tell us something about yourself"

And instinctively, I started" I am mother of two kids, they are both boys..." And as if there was a tremor in the ground or a volcano rumbling, the interviewers, suddenly, with all alertness were staring at me. The lady in spectacles was finally looking up from her file, mouth agape. I continued to wax eloquent about my kids...maybe two more sentences and then I realized that it was not probably the right thing to say. Not at the interview for a super specialty course at the top medical College of the country.But by then it was too late. I could see the coveted seat slipping out of my reach. And I inwardly cursed myself for answering without thinking.
Today, almost three years later, the moment is still alive in memory. And even today I wonder what made me answer the question the way I did. But then, I know many women who would answer the same way when asked about their lives ( though not at a job interview). Whatever we may be professionally, we are always 'Mothers first'. The first thought is always about the kids.We may be authors, doctors, singers, actresses, scientists, engineers for some hours in our day... but we are mothers 24X7. Our lives sometimes seem to serve the sole purpose of making their lives easier.The attachment is a visceral one; something like letting your organ grow outside your body.
We may be many things at home and at work. But undoubtedly, the one role that we take on most instinctively and naturally is the role of a Mom. In fact, it isn't a 'role' at all. It is just who we are . And so, even today if you were to ask me who I am, I would say Anurag and Avijits' mother and then may be think of other things that I am.

And yes, I got the seat.I suspect because women outnumbered men in the panel. And I also suspect they thought the same way about themselves :)

The 'A' word

Enter any fertility clinic and you will be inundated with images of hope,trust and success. This world is designed to lure the patient into the world of 'making babies'. Websites of a fertility clinic makes tall claims of successes and the latest treatments on the block. Giving the couple a baby seems to be the sole aim in the lives of these 'baby makers'.Conspicuous by its absence in this world of fertility is the word 'adoption'. None mention it in their websites, and none that I know of ( with one exception) provide adoption counseling.The excuse being that couples who come to them are looking for their 'biological' child and not an adopted one. But these very clinics will go to any length... borrow a sperm, get donated eggs and put them in 'wombs on rent' and produce  a baby ( more often babies) with as many as three or more sets of parents. What biology  are we talking of then?              
I do not claim to have a huge experience in treating infertility. But my little experience has taught me that artificial reproductive techniques are not the answer to every infertile couples problems. Many of them are receptive to the idea of adoption, but the legalities and the formalities often scare them. I have trained in a centre where adoption counseling and assistance was provided routinely.Some of the couples who remain in my memory are the ones who opted for adoption rather than going in for expensive and unpredictable ART techniques. Others who took it up when they failed with IVF. But the common thing about them all was that they are all happy that they took this decision when they did. And they are all grateful for the suggestion that this was an option worth looking at and the counseling and assistance provided by the fertility clinic in the process of bringing a baby home. 
It is probably not an option at all for some. But for the others, it is. And isnt it the duty of the fertility clinic to make the couple aware that there are other ways of 'making a family' too. Sometimes just the reassurance that the clinic is with them in this often long drawn process of adoption is big support to the family.
It is not a defeat for us, the baby makers, when the couple chooses adoption over ART. It is just a recognition of the fact that some babies are already in this world waiting for love, waiting for a family.
The inspiration that drives us is the joy of parenthood, and making babies in 'test tubes' is just one way to achieve that.
Adoption, for us, is not the last option, but one that sometimes holds the key to lasting happiness