Mr. HansH (Ishq Mein Marjawan)
The Unapproximate

Stop eating stuff a day, I immediately urinated. My eating habits lately have been like an addiction. When asked to stop eating rujak even though it was only half a day, I arrived like a dazed person because I wanted to eat rujak but did not deliver. It may feel the same as when cigarette addicts are forced to quit smoking: heavy, difficult, not at all easy. That's what it feels like.

Well, a day I can go through without rujak even though it feels very annoying, but still I force myself because nausea continues to torment me throughout the day. Although I could restrain myself, but my mind still seemed to have a sour, sweet, and spicy taste, which I thought would definitely make me forget for a moment how nauseating the nauseous aroma left in my mouth. It's very uncomfortable. I think HansH is wrong, my pain is due to colds, not because most eat rujak let alone eat spicy spices to affect my digestive organs. If indeed I have indigestion due to sour and spicy taste, I should have diarrhea, right? Not nausea and vomiting, right?

Yep, maybe I catch a cold. Perhaps it was because my body was not fully accustomed to my new routine as a foster mother where I had to wake up often in the middle of the night to feed Malika who woke up, crying from hunger, crying from hunger, which means my sleep hours are less than usual. And as always, I never needed a doctor in this condition. All I need is an expert masseuse. So Aunt Heera called another masseuse home, Aunt Shanti, her regular masseuse, whom she had called to order me last month, and this time Aunt Shanti will sort me out again for the second time, like last month. But the difference is, early last month Aunt Shanti was deliberately called for a fertility massage, the goal is that I get pregnant quickly, not like now, in mid-July, Aunt Shanti came to massage me who was not feeling well. Like the Mahesvara family, Bibi Shanti is an Indian who settled in the UK for decades.

And like I said, he's an expert masseuse. I enjoyed how her hands gently pressed against my body. Feeling my nerves slowly releasing fatigue is like finding freshness after days of being tired. It is appropriate if sometimes there are customers who fall asleep while being massaged. The massage was incredible. In addition, Aunt Shanti has a friendly attitude, it is not surprising that people who use her services immediately feel familiar with her, and become regular customers of her massage. She also likes to tell funny stories in between her massages. In fact, he also did not hesitate to share the secret of the warmth of the bed for the wives to please the husband. Nandini and I giggled as she prescribed herbal drinks for men to be strong and durable. Ugh...! Steady, said.

Ah, nevermind. I concluded that Aunt Shanti was the best of the best masseuse, her skills were thumbs up, and she was typical of a friendly and humorous person.

Like a masseuse in general, with the position of the patient lying on his stomach, Bibi Shanti massaged his customers starting from the feet: calves, thighs, panta*, then down to the soles of the feet and insteps, after that to the ankle, then he tugged at the toes until it made a trembling sound. Next, he massaged the entire back of the body: from the back, waist, shoulders, neck, to the head, then he massaged the entire hand to the fingers which also made a trembling sound as he pulled it in a powerful jolt. After finishing all those parts, he asked me to go on my back to massage the area around the chest, quadriceps area, and stomach.

Practically I refused to massage the abdomen, like all this time, I never wanted to be massaged in my stomach. I think that part is too risky to be sorted even more internal organs that are not covered by bone. It hurts anyway, last month I felt it. I screamed in pain.

However, Aunt Shanti again persuaded me and convinced me that there was nothing. Aunt Heera suggested that.

"As Auntie once said, if God allows it, Aunt Shanti can be an intermediary to help you get pregnant quickly" said Aunt Heera, just as she said last month.

Oh, the hope in his eyes made me unable to resist. I resigned, I let Aunt Shanti's hand touch my stomach.

Aunt Shanti smiled as usual because of my agreement, then she immediately put her palm on top of my stomach, groping gently.

"Goddess..," he murmured later.

Astonished, I watched the old mimic, his forehead multiplying as he was - say, examining, estimating, predicting, or whatever his name was after his call praising the name of the Lord. Then he smiled back. So cheerful and so bright.

"You're pregnant, son."

Huh huh? Practically my forehead shriveled and my eyebrows clutched. I was surprised, inevitably surprised. "What, Bi? Pregnant?"

"Yes. You're pregnant." The old hand was still feeling, fumbling, pressing quietly on my stomach.

"Yes, Son. Good luck," Aunt Heera chimed in.

Ah, if my situation was like the normal situation of women in general, maybe I would be so happy to hear this, then enthusiastically will soon test my pregnancy with a testpack. But truth?

My feelings are not because of. Promiscuous. I was sad because I knew I couldn't get pregnant. I was confused as to not know how to respond to this situation, especially in the presence of Aunt Heera and Nandini. I also cannot deny, there is a slight sense of pleasure that immediately arises and vibrates, although at once the pleasure immediately disappears because of the logic of speech: it is impossible, it is impossible, and at once it changed into a sense of disappointment, but also contained hope -- where I also felt: stupid and stupid for having hoped.

My heart is small. But why do they feel everything at the same time?

Hope and disappointment are fighting in my heart. Although I know, disappointment will certainly win it.

"Ah, Bi, don't joke. Where possible," I said at last with glazed eyes that I was eager to hide.

I immediately closed my stomach because Aunt Shanti did not massage my stomach, and I quickly sat down.

"Why is that impossible, son?" He smiled, again massaging my right leg. "This old hand has been holding for decades the scars of pregnant women. Hopefully Aunt's estimate doesn't miss, huh? Aamiin.. aamiin...."

Oh, that's what other mothers will say when they hear the good news about the possibility that they're pregnant. But me...? I want to say it, say aamiin, but logic again prevents.

That's impossible, Zia. Don't hope because hope will hurt you. Miracles do exist, but they do not challenge the medical and the logical. If that happens, ah, that's it. It's hard to believe. The point is, don't hope. Don't hope, Zia. Take care ofyour heart....

"Kun fayakun's. Nothing is impossible if God wills. If he says so, then be. Now let Aunt order a pregnancy test for you. Let's know the answer. Okay well? Kun fayakun."

I wept. I cannot continue to drift in this lie, the indecision that torments my mind....

"May line two, yes, Sister-in-law. Aamiin..."

Oh my God.. Should I guarantee it? My stomach was back to thinking about it. Line two???

Ughhhh!