"Not all women, you're not jealous!"
With a throaty laugh, she replied, "Are you kidding? My daughters are grown up, they're in college, how could I be jealous of your boobs? Moreover, I was never hot or big like you!"
On getting up from the bench, I stepped forward and started free hand exercises. Raising both hands above my head, joining palms, I bent forward and touched my toes. Straightening back, I bent backward from my waist. I kept the posture for a while, when she remarked, "Hey your top fell short, showing skin around your tummy!"
"I don't care. Are they still looking at me?"
"Yes, they are!" she confirmed.
"Ok, let them watch, I can't skip exercising because of them."
"Yeah, you shouldn't, it's just harmless watching. Good way to start the day for them!" She chuckled.
*****
Enraged, being stuck at the office for over an hour, I didn't even care to reply when my boss finally allowed me to leave for a lunch break. On picking up my bag, I ran for my bike hurriedly. I bought a ladies bike for commuting fast between home and office. Having a breastfed baby at home, I had to travel between home and work, twice a day. I was lucky to have a full time live in maid. Tara, who was around twenty, was quite inexperienced with taking care of an eight month old baby but I had no other option than to leave my baby with her.
Both my husband and I were working for the same government department. When our baby reached six months, his transfer to another city came as a bolt from the blue. By then, I had exhausted all my leave but fortunately we had engaged Tara and she was working for us. I had no choice other than to depend on her to care for my baby. She looked after the baby in my absence, as well as helped me with household chores.
I had taken a small, two room flat on rent; having two mid-sized rooms, a small kitchen, a small storeroom, and a washroom, all inter-connected with a long shared balcony in front. The first room, with an entrance at left end of the front balcony, was the drawing room. The door adjacent to entrance, in the right corner of the drawing room led to the second room, used as our bedroom. Another parallel door on the opposite wall of the bedroom led to our kitchen. A parallel opening on the opposite wall of the kitchen led to the storeroom, used as Tara's bedroom. Next to the storeroom was the washroom with door on the opposite wall and parallel to the opening from kitchen. Adjacent to the washroom door, at the right side of the storeroom, was a door leading to a common backyard.
The old, two story, roadside building was not appropriate but it was close to my office and rent was cheap. It was not built for renting out but for a big family, quite common in olden days. The landlord inherited the building but with his small family consisting of a wife and two kids, he did not require so many rooms spread over two floors. He kept the first floor for himself and rented out the entire ground floor for an additional source of income.
Out of three rented flats on the ground floor, I took the flat on left side, in the front part of the building. A newlywed couple in their mid-twenties took the flat at the right side in the front and Auntie Uma had the flat at the backside of the building. We had a common balcony in front, which I had to share with the couple next door. A cemented pathway from the compound gate led to our front balcony and a similar pathway at extreme right of the building led to the common backyard and Auntie Uma's flat and the staircase to first floor.
The landlord's family did not mix with tenants and my relations with the couple living next door was lukewarm. As was common for old buildings, rooms on the ground floor were interconnected and there was a door in between my bedroom and the bedroom of the tenant couple next door. The door was bolted in order to make separate flats out of the interconnected rooms but there was a wide gap that could not be closed between the two wooden doors, which hung from the door frame. I tried to block the gap by placing a small wardrobe in front of it but distinct sounds from the bedroom of the couple continued to infiltrate my bedroom, and at night light from their bedroom splashed across the floor and my bed. I can only expect their experience had been the same.
I had to wake up at night several times. Whenever my baby cried or had to have his nappies changed, I had to switch on the lights in my bedroom. Naturally, it disturbed the couple next door. Nobody likes to wake up in the middle of night with a baby's cry. Sounds in silence of a night were clearer and I heard their irritated comments. I could not help them anyway but with time, we learnt to adjust.
Auntie Uma was very fond of my baby. Being a mom of two grown daughters, she knew the difficulties of a first time mom. She had plenty of spare time since her husband and daughters used to leave in the morning. Tara had a harrowing time in taking care of my baby so Auntie Uma assisted Tara in my absence. Her affinity, love and care for the baby and expertise were a huge relief for me. She advised me on the nitty-gritty of baby care and at times even helped me with daily chores. Because of work, household chores and my baby, I had not time for friends, but Auntie Uma and I got closer with passing time due to her daily presence and caring nature.
Getting delayed at the office meant feeding time for my baby had passed by an hour. While riding my bike, I felt a sense of coldness on my chest. I noticed in horror, two big wet spots on my blue top. The wet spots, from my leaking breast milk, were distinct and rushing air had brought the cold feeling.
I used to wear a sari at the office but switched over to a shirt-pants outfit since it was easier to ride a bike. With a sari, such spots could be easily covered with the pallu of the sari but not possible with a top. Worrying me, the wet spots were getting bigger. Cursing my boss for my plight and hoping no one would notice, I pushed the bike to go faster.
My paediatrician, strictly against formula foods, had advised me to feed him breastmilk as long as I could. I had no problem since I had more than he needed. Maybe, my hormones were at fault but I used to be so full that when I failed to feed him on time, I felt pain in my breasts and my clothes would become soaked with leaked breastmilk. At times, even immediately after feeding him, milk continued to flow out. Worrying, I consulted a gynaecologist and came to know that such pain and overflow happened with some moms and it was absolutely normal. It can be controlled with medicine if necessary but she suggested I consider myself lucky, having enough milk for my baby as in most cases due to insufficient production, she had to prescribe medicines to new moms.
On office days, routinely I fed him just before leaving, at lunch break and immediately on returning home. I had never been so late in coming back home at lunch. Tara, with worried expression, was waiting at the gate. On seeing me, she quickly opened the gate. On parking my bike inside the compound, I walked fast into the drawing room and was relieved to find Auntie Uma with my baby, sitting on a sofa. She almost shouted, "Oh my Gosh! What made you so late? He's hungry and has been crying for a long time."
I could not answer her, plunging with guilt. She had experience and could stop my baby from crying, even in difficult situations, baffling him with her baby talk. While I entered into the room he was silent, lying in her lap but on seeing me, he started crying. I sat on the sofa across from her, taking him from her lap.
"Why are you so late today?" she asked me again.
"I'm so sorry, you know, I've a mean boss," I replied.
By then, in desperation, my baby was about to suck on my wet top and noticing the wet marks, she yelled in surprise, "Oh my God, you're leaking milk."
I nodded, "I'll change first then I'll feed him."
She retorted, "Don't waste time, he's hungry. Feed him first, you can change later."
"Ok."
Nodding in agreement, pulling up my top and lowering my bra, I brought him closer and put his mouth on my left breast. Instantly, he started suckling but due to his hurried, hungry sucks, milk trickled out from the corner of his mouth and rolled down.
"Lucky baby, you're so full of milk!" she commented with a sly smile.
"They're painful with fullness and getting relief by feeding him."
"Yeah, you told me that before," she replied, pondering awhile before continuing with a smile, "Your husband comes on the weekend, so problem's on weekdays only."
