One Child Policy

One Child Policy

Chapter 1: The Mandate

The static noise of the television filled the room, the glow of the brighten Vijay's face. His jaw clenched, the eyes twitching as he stared at the parliamentarian on the screen. The man's voice was smooth, almost rehearsed, as he spoke about the new bill--the One Child Policy. Vijay's fingers dug into the armrest of the chair. He felt suffocating, as if the world around him is closing on him.. He could hear the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, each second a reminder of the time slipping away.

The parliamentarian's words were sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. "In the 100th year of our Republic the One Child Policy is not merely a directive," he began, his tone dripping with a false sense of urgency, "it is our duty as citizens. Any couple who has not fulfilled their obligation within thirty years of marriage will be relocated to Life Care Centers for the sake of national progress. We must confront the reality of our declining population. The influence of Western ideals has led our people astray--childless couples chasing urban dreams, abandoning the very fabric of our society. This cannot continue. The bill will be enforced from midnight today. "

Vijay's chest tightened. He could feel the weight of the words pressing down on him, the implications sinking in. The government's solution was brutal, unyielding. Couples who hadn't produced a child within 30 years of marriage would be forced to comply--or face the consequences. The Life Care Centers. The name sounded innocuous, almost comforting, but everyone knew what they really were. Shadows where people disappeared, where the elderly were sent to be forgotten. A cold shiver ran down Vijay's spine as he thought of it. There was no escape, no way to protest. The Prime Leader's vision is clear--India needs more young people for the sake of national productivity and efficiency.

His mind raced, thoughts flooded his mind.. He glanced at the photo on the table--a younger version of himself, standing beside her. Her smile bright, her eyes full of hope. They had been married for 28 years. Twenty-eight years of building a life together, of dreams deferred, of choices made. They had chosen not to have children, focusing instead on their careers, their passions, their love for each other. And now, that choice was being ripped away from them.

The sound of the front door opening pulled him from his thoughts. Shaila stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floor. She paused, sensing the tension in the air, her eyes immediately finding him. "Vijay?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with concern. She set her bag down and moved toward him, her movements graceful, deliberate.

He didn't answer right away, he looked back to the television. The parliamentarian was still speaking, his words now a dull roar in Vijay's ears. Shaila followed his gaze, her brow furrowing as she caught snippets of the speech. Her hand reached out, fingers brushing against his arm, the touch sending a jolt through him. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Vijay turned to her, his eyes dark, haunted. "They've passed the bill," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "The One Child Policy. We... we have two years, Shaila. Two years to have a child, or--" He couldn't bring himself to say it, the words sticking in his throat.

Shaila's breath hitched, her hand tightening on his arm. "Or they'll send us to one of those centers," she finished for him, her voice barely audible. Her face fainted, her lips moving as if to speak, but no words came out. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of the situation settling between them like a heavy fog.

The world around them felt suffocating, they felt the mix of fear and desperation. Shaila's mind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions--anger, disbelief, a deep, aching sadness. She, a college professor, had always been the stronger one, the one who could face anything with a calm demeanor, but this... this was different. This was a violation, an invasion of their most personal choices.

Vijay reached for her, his hand trembling as he touched her face. His thumb brushed against her cheek, the touch tender, almost reverent. "I don't know what to do," he admitted, his voice breaking. "I don't know how to protect us from this."

Shaila leaned into his touch, her eyes closing for a brief moment as she drew strength from him. When she opened them again, there was a fire there, a determination that hadn't been there before. "We'll figure it out," she said, her voice steady now, firm. "Together. We've always found a way, haven't we?"

Chapter 2: The Last Chance

Outside, the distant wail of a siren echoed through the streets, a cruel reminder of the world they were now trapped in. The dim glow of the bedside lamp stretched shadows across the cracked walls of their modest apartment. The fan overhead groaned with each slow rotation, pushing warm air through the heavy silence that had settled between them.

Shaila sat on the edge of the bed, adjusting the pleats of her sari out of habit, though she wasn't truly fixing anything--just buying time. The maroon fabric clung to the fullness of her form, her wide hips pressed against the mattress, the slight indent of her belly deepening as she leaned forward. She was not slender, not firm. She was a woman of her age, soft and ripened, carrying the weight of time in the swell of her thighs and the sag of her breasts beneath her blouse. A few silver lines were woven through the thick knot of her once-jet-black hair, strands escaping to brush against the loose skin at her neck.

Vijay stood across from her, his knuckles pressed into the edge of the wooden dresser, head bowed. The light caught the smooth dome of his bald scalp, beads of sweat glistening where hair once grew. His shoulders hunched forward, weighed down not just by age but by the years of desk work as a bank manager that had carved deep lines into his face. His shirt strained around his stomach, the buttons slightly misaligned, his potbelly sloping over the waistband of his pants. He had long stopped caring about his appearance, about the body that had once been filled with youth.

But now, none of that mattered.

Vijay's voice was hoarse, thick with something between desperation and shame. "Shaila... we have to do this."

She inhaled sharply but didn't meet his gaze. She focused instead on the way the floor carpet had worn out, how the edge of the bedspread curled inward. Anything but him. Anything but the truth of what he was saying.

He took a step closer, his hand reaching for hers. "They'll come for us, Shaila. The government doesn't care what we want.. Thirty years. That's all they look at." His fingers pressed into her palm, rough and warm. "We don't have a choice."

Her body tensed. "We do," she said, though her voice was barely above a whisper. "We can run."

"Run where?" He let out a bitter chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "You think there's a place in this country they won't find us? We disappear now, we disappear later--it's the same thing."

Shaila's throat tightened. She had known this. Of course, she had. But still, hearing it spoken aloud made her stomach twist.

Vijay exhaled slowly and sat beside her, their thighs pressing together. He turned to her, his gaze trailing over her face--the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, the fullness of her cheeks, the lips that had once been so quick to smile but now seemed forever pressed into a frown.

Vijay's voice cracked when he finally spoke. "We have to try," he said, his words barely above a whisper. He didn't look at her, couldn't look at her. His gaze was fixed on the floor, on the worn carpet that had seen better days. "We don't have a choice."

She wanted to say something, to reassure him, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. She slid closer to him.. Her hand reached out, trembling slightly, and rested on his thigh. The touch was tentative, unsure, as if she was afraid he might pull away.

He didn't. His body stiffened under her hand, but he didn't move. She could feel the tension in him, the way his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap. Her fingers traced small circles on his leg, the touch light, almost teasing. "It's okay," she murmured, her voice soft, soothing. "We'll figure it out. Together."

Vijay's hands clenched into fists. He turned to her then, his eyes dark, haunted. "I don't know if I can," he admitted, his voice breaking. "I don't know if I'm... enough."

"I know it's been years," he murmured. His fingers found her wrist, tracing over the faded gold of her bangles. "I know we thought we were past this."

Her chest rose and fell, her blouse stretching over the weight of her breasts, softer than they once were. She could feel his eyes flicker down, taking in the changes, the years between them manifesting in flesh and time.

Vijay glazed her from starting from top, noticing her heavy breathing, her rising and falling chest. When his eyes reached her midriff, he noticed her belly, as if looking for the first. He looked at it for a little bit longer, Shaila noticed it in his eyes. Vijay's hand slowly moved toward her belly, sliding the pallu revealing the aged belly which is not same, the young, the fertile as it was a long ago, he himself didn't even remember when it was.

Vijay's hand lingered on her belly for a moment longer before he let it fall. He pulled back, exhaling shakily, running a hand over his smooth, bald scalp. "Shaila," he murmured, his voice rasping with exhaustion, with hesitation. "What if we can?"

She turned to him, the shadows of the room softening the lines of her face. "What if we can?"

Vijay was hesitant, he wet his dried lips. He murmured "What if we tried having the child now? We have two years." He stopped as if he himself was hearing what he was saying to make sure it was making sense to him also. Shaila froze for a moment, not because she was thinking of its possibility, but by looking at the desperation on Vijay's face.

Vijay's desperation reached his peak, it gave him a false sense of confidence. He held Shaila's hand as she didn't speak anything. "Its our last chance, we can save ourself from the bill"

Shaila's heart ached watching Vijay so desperate, she could see the false sense of security that spread over Vijay's face. But inside her mind, many questions stormed that condensed into just one "How?".

Vijay, as if he thought it out for so long, spontaneously said "It's been so long, our career, it gave us all the things, shopping, movies, vacations, but it took ourself from each other" Vijay stood up, as if his body was filled with energy, hope. "What if we come closer, we can conceive the child. I don't even remember the last time we had a sex."

Chapter 3: The Doubt Between Them

Shaila sat on the bed, arms crossed over her stomach, as if shielding herself from the very thought of what they were about to do. The streetlights outside cast long, jagged shadows against the walls, flickering from the occasional power fluctuation. A reminder of how the world outside their home was crumbling, dictated by forces beyond their control.

Inside, the air felt too thick, pressing against her skin. She wasn't ready. Not emotionally, not physically.

She turned her gaze downward, fingers unconsciously rubbing against the soft flesh of her belly, the gentle swell that had come with age and comfort. Once, she had imagined this stomach rounding for a different reason. Years ago, when the possibility still felt within reach. But time had stretched that hope thin, unraveling it thread by thread until there was nothing left but quiet acceptance.

And now Vijay wanted to resurrect it.

She sighed, turned her head away, stared outside the window. "I don't think I can do this."

Vijay exhaled sharply. He came closer to Shaila, sat beside her as if the doubt between them drained his spurge of energy. She could hear the hesitation in the way he shifted, the way his body sank onto the bed, slow, deliberate, as if trying not to reveal the weight of his own thoughts.

"You're not the only one worried," he said. His voice was rough, thick with something deeper than doubt. "It's been... years, Shaila. I'm not--" He paused, his words catching in his throat. She could hear the shame in it. "I'm not even sure I can."

She turned to look at him then. He was hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees, staring at his hands like they held answers he would never find. The dim light overhead cast deep shadows over his face, emphasizing the hollowness in his cheeks, the fatigue that had long settled into his bones.

"You think I don't know that?" she said, softer now, the sharpness of her initial protest giving way to something more fragile. "You think I don't see how you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror? How you don't change your clothes with the lights off? How you haven't--" She hesitated, swallowing hard before finishing, "--touched me in years?"

Vijay flinched. Not at her words, but at the truth in them.

He rubbed a hand over his face, fingers trailing over the smooth expanse of his scalp before settling against the back of his neck. "I don't even remember the last time I... felt anything down there." His laugh was bitter, humorless. "And now, suddenly, I'm supposed to get you pregnant?"

Shaila bit her lip. She wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, that this was natural, that time had taken its toll on both of them. But what comfort was there in that?

Silence stretched between them, heavy, suffocating.

Then, slowly, Vijay lifted his head. His eyes found hers, and beneath the exhaustion, beneath the self-doubt, there was something else--a quiet, desperate determination.

"It doesn't matter," he said, voice steadier now, as if he was trying to convince himself more than her. "We don't have a choice. I have to try. We have to try."

Shaila's throat tightened. He said it like an order, like something he had to force himself to believe. And maybe that was the cruelest part of all--not the policy, not the government's decree, but the realization that they weren't making love tonight.

They were fighting for survival.

Vijay's voice cracked when he finally spoke. "We have to try," he said, his words barely above a whisper. He didn't look at her, couldn't look at her. His gaze was fixed on the floor, on the worn carpet that had seen better days. "We don't have a choice.

Shaila's chest tightened. She wanted to say something, to reassure him, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. She slid closer, her bare feet silent against the floor, and sat beside him. Her hand reached out, trembling slightly, and rested on his thigh. The touch was tentative, unsure, as if she was afraid he might pull away.

He didn't. His body stiffened under her hand, but he didn't move. She could feel the tension in him, the way his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap. Her fingers traced small circles on his leg, the touch light, almost teasing. "It's okay," she murmured, her voice soft, soothing. "We'll figure it out. Together."

Vijay's breath hitched, his hands clenched into fists. He turned to her then, his eyes dark, haunted. "I don't know if I can," he admitted, his voice breaking. "I don't know if I'm... enough."

Shaila's heart ached at the raw vulnerability in his voice. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "You are," she whispered, her breath warm against his skin. "You've always been enough."

Her hand moved higher, her fingers trailing up his thigh, closer to where he needed her most. She could feel the heat of him, the faint tremor that ran through his body as her touch grew bolder. Her other hand reached for his face, turning him to look at her. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the fear and doubt seemed to fade, replaced by something else--something desperate, primal.

Shaila's lips found his, the kiss slow, tentative at first, but growing deeper, hungrier. Her hands moved to his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. She climbed over him, her body pressing against his, the weight of her grounding him, anchoring him. Her pallu slipped off one shoulder, revealing the curve of her breast, the softness of her skin. She could feel his hesitation, his uncertainty, but she didn't stop. She couldn't.

Her hands roamed over his body, exploring every inch of him, relearning the man she had loved for so many years. She could feel the tension in him, the way his body resisted, but she didn't give up. Her lips trailed down his neck, her teeth grazing his skin, leaving faint marks that made him gasp. Her hands moved lower, her fingers brushing against the waistband of his pants, teasing, taunting.

Vijay's breath came in short, ragged gasps, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. He wanted to say something, to tell her to stop, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he let her take control, let her guide him, her touch both a comfort and a torment.

Shaila's fingers slipped beneath the fabric of his pants, her touch firm, deliberate. She could feel him, soft and unresponsive, and her heart ached for him. But she didn't stop. Her hand moved with a slow, steady rhythm, her touch growing more confident, more insistent. Her lips found his again, the kiss deep, consuming, as if she could pour all her love, all her desperation, into him.

Vijay's body began to respond, slowly, reluctantly. He could feel the heat building in him, the faint stirrings of desire that had been buried under layers of fear and shame. His hands moved to her hips, gripping her tightly, as if he was afraid she might disappear. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his body trembling beneath her.

Shaila could feel the change in him, the way his cock began to harden under her touch. She smiled against his lips, a small, triumphant smile. "That's it," she whispered, her voice soft, encouraging. "Just let go."

Vijay comfortably laid Shaila on her back, his hands moved to her sari, pulling it up to hips, and sliding down her panties with flower print, leaving her bare before him. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every curve, every imperfection, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt something other than fear. He felt desire, raw and unfiltered, coursing through him.

Shaila guided him, her hands gentle but firm, positioning him between her legs. She could feel the heat of him, the faint tremble in his body as he hesitated. "It's okay," she murmured, her voice soft, soothing. "Just take your time."

Vijay's breath hitched, unbuttoned his pants, slid it down along with his underwear, his body trembling, his dick twitching as he pressed into her. The sensation was overwhelming, the heat, the tightness, the way her body seemed to welcome him, to pull him in. His hands gripped her hips, his movements slow, tentative, as if he was afraid he might hurt her.

Shaila's hands moved to his back, Vijay leaned into her arms, as if they were hugging, her fingers digging into his skin, urging him on. "You're doing great," she whispered, her voice soft, encouraging. "Just like that."

Vijay's movements grew more confident, more urgent, his body moving with a rhythm that was both familiar and foreign. He could feel the heat building in him, the pressure growing, but it was different this time. It wasn't the same as before. He could feel it slipping away, the pleasure fading, replaced by something else--something hollow, empty.

His body stiffened, his movements faltering. He could feel it, the faint trickle of release, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't what he wanted, what he needed. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his body trembling as he collapsed onto her, his face buried in the crook of her neck.