Title: Iqbal Author: Eskimo1958 Summary: A story of an Indian woman and her quest for a male heir for her husband. I would love to ehar your comments on this one. Keywords: MF, Impreg
I am a healthy, Indian woman in my late thirties, and I was married in 1988 at the age of 22 years. My husband, Manoj, was then in the merchant navy but left his job in 1990 as both my husbands parent's died in a plane crash and he was required to look after the family’s sizeable manufacturing business. The next year (1991) I conceived. When I was about 5 months pregnant we went to attend a marriage in Kishanpur. We also made it an opportunity to do some local sight seeing.
Among some of the places we visited was the famous shrine of Bade Hazoor ki Majar. It is believed that desires of those who pray sincerely at the shrine are fulfilled. While coming out of the approach lane to the shrine an unpleasant incident occurred. A group of locals made some snide remark directed at me, or Manoj so thought. He immediately challenged them but they quickly dispersed and vanished in the crowded street leaving behind a somewhat elderly Fakir (ascetic beggar). In his fury, Manoj slapped him. The man started shrieking pleading not-guilty as if in a delirium. He was also repeatedly cursing Manoj that his family line would end with him. A small crowd gathered around us, some local shopkeepers asserting that the Fakir Iqbal Shah was, indeed, a pious man and could not have done such a despicable thing. Considering that he might have made a mistake, my husband thrust some currency notes in the Fakir’s tattered pocket suggesting him to buy a good lunch for himself, to which the latter did not pay any heed - all the time staring the sky with tears in his eyes. The crowd dispersed and we too left.
We soon forgot the incident and did not mention it to anybody. On the very first night after returning home, I saw Fakir in the dream. In the morning, I had a severe stomachache that resulted in the termination of my five month old pregnancy. I remained in bed for several days thereafter. I mentioned to Manoj that perhaps the miscarriage might have to do something with the Fakir’s curse, but he brushed it aside as a silly thought warning that in future such ideas could only bring harm to me in such a condition. But somehow I could never get over the thought.
After about six months, another tragedy hit us. Manoj had a stroke of paralysis, from which he has not fully recovered even after 14 years and is still in a wheel chair. His handicaps due to the stroke included sexual dysfunction. Because of his medical problems, we had to sell our family business also at a substantial loss. Our life was devastated. Another year passed by in making painful adjustments. While Manoj’s treatment was going on, it occurred to me to pay a visit to Fakir Iqbal Shah once again and see if he had anything to suggest in the matter. It took me considerable time and effort to make Manoj agree to the idea.
We revisited Kishanpur in 1994 and offered prayers at the shrine. With some difficulty, I located Fakir Iqbal Shah and offered some food and clothes to propitiate him. He had suddenly grown very old and weak and sat looking blank, not able to place us. But when I tried to remind him, crying in between, he spoke with a lot of sadness: “Whatever has happened had to happen…. You shall be able to conceive only from a true devotee of Him – a real servant of Allah, the Almighty. Don’t try any tricks, woman.” Manoj was visibly agitated and angry at this and blamed me for taking him to the Fakir. So we hurriedly left. But, on returning home, the situation started haunting us with greater force that we shall not be able to have a biological child of our own. I realized that more than me, Manoj was keen to have a baby as he was the only surviving male in the family branch of his great grandfather and he wanted the lineage to continue.
Our doctor suggested conception through artificial insemination. After much thought Manoj agreed to the idea but I had serious reservations to it - to beget a child from someone other than my husband, involving bio-chemical processes even though the donor had to be an unknown person. Manoj, on the other hand, argued that at least the baby would have my genes and he would accept him as a manifestation of my love and sacrifice for him. Eventually, I was persuaded. The doctor, who was a family friend too, herself supervised the arrangements. After a couple of months, we had the good news that I had conceived. But in spite of all precautions and monitoring from the doctor, I miscarried the baby in the fourth month. We felt shattered.
But even before the year lapsed, our doctor broached up the subject again, arguing that such a failure was not uncommon and that we must try again. Manoj would not express any opinion, but the expression of helplessness that was written on his face melted me. The second go at artificial insemination also went well but once again the destiny looked otherwise. A sudden bleeding in the fifth month took away our baby in the making.
But one does not easily give up hope. Soon we started thinking in terms of adopting a baby. My brother and his wife came forward and offered their second son, who was then 10 months old, to us for adoption. After a good thought we made up our mind. Legal documents were prepared. On the eve of their submission, my brother’s family came to our place for a get together. But suddenly the baby took very ill and fainted. He was rushed to a nearby hospital where his condition did not improve. Suddenly, it flashed to me what was going on. I tore down all the legal documents and swore before everybody present there that if the child survived we would never think of adopting him. A couple of minutes later the child came around in the hospital but the doctors could not specify what had gone wrong with him. We were back to square one. That night a dejected Manoj admitted to me that he too was convinced that the Fakir’s curse was at work.
We decided to pay a visit to Kishanpur once again and persuade Fakir Iqbal Shah to free us from his curse. The visit to the shrine materialized towards the end of 1996 but proved in vain as on reaching there we learnt that Fakir Iqbal Shah had passed away a couple of weeks ago. We felt as if the life had been snuffed out of us. It dawned upon us that we had no option but to accept things as they came.
In early 1997, in response to a legal notice regarding my late Father-in-law's involvement in a mining deed, we were required to visit Shimla and Mandi- capital city and a district, respectively, of the northern state of Himachal Pradesh. While returning from Mandi, our taxi broke its axle near the small town Ner Chowk. As it was getting dark and wintry, the driver and some local people advised us to stay there overnight. They not only fixed up our lodging and boarding with a local lady doctor, namely Dr. Aisha, who used to sometimes rent out a portion of her cottage and clinic, but also helped us to shift our belongings there. Our room was through a first floor vestibule from the main cottage. Dr. Aisha lived there with her husband Anees who was a botanist and private consultant, and a part time helper.
After settling down, in spite of the day’s fatigue, I joined Dr. Aisha in the kitchen to help her in preparing the dinner. She was only a few years older than me. Soon we struck a cord of mutual liking. I learnt from her that the couple had a 14-year old son, who was studying in a boarding school at Dehra Dun and only the previous week had visited his parents en route to a trekking trip with a group. The husband Dr. Anees, though a practicing botanist, looked like a commoner and of late turned into a researcher and seeker in spiritualism. He used to spend much of the time alone or with his religious mentor, sometimes not returning home for days on end. He was also a Haji, having done the pilgrimage to Mecca. That evening also Dr. Anees showed up briefly to collect his dinner that he had decided to take in his room late in the night.
I felt drawn towards Dr. Aisha. Our conversation continued well after the dinner in her room. We shared several details of our lives and families as if we were like old friends. I also could not help telling her of the tragedy that had befallen our family since the visit to Kishanpur and the Fakir’s curse. She sat silent for quite some time and then spoke slowly: “Look, it has suddenly occurred to me that Anees meets all the qualifications that Fakir had mentioned to you about the person from whom you could conceive. Please don’t misunderstand me, and it is otherwise also very difficult for me to suggest, would you consider mating him for solution of your problem, that is, if he also agrees. May be Allah is giving me this inspiration and courage and you are here as per His design…. But I shall talk to Anees only after you have made up your mind…. You may like to consult your husband too, or might like to inform him subsequently. But if this has to be gone through both you and your husband will have to be here for two to three days…. you know, during your fertile period. Think over and let me know about your decision before you leave.”
I was stunned, but somehow the suggestion did not appear to me to be brash or with any ulterior motive, such had been the warmth of our mutual liking and my desperation to give a baby to Manoj. The whole night I weighed pros and cons of Aisha’s suggestion. My body was no more chaste in the traditional sense as having biologically reacted to the sperms of two unknown men in the recent past even though it was done at Manoj’s behest. I had also read somewhere that in olden days if the husband had died or was disabled, it was justified for the wife to beget a scion for the kingdom or a heir for the family (called Niyog system). I decided to agree to the suggestion for Manoj’s sake, but I did not have the courage to inform him lest he should be very upset. I thought I would find his ready acceptance subsequently if the experiment succeeded.
In the morning when I apprised Aisha of my decision, she welcomed it and enquired about the stage of my cycle. As I had been through with my periods a few days before undertaking that journey, she calculated that the implementation of her idea could commence the very next day – another auspicious indication of His will according to her. Still she examined me thoroughly and asked a number of questions about the history of my pregnancies. Satisfied she went to seek Anees’s agreement. It took quite some time and later on she told me that he needed a lot of persuasion from her. He had agreed, but he had put a condition that he would seek the approval of his spiritual mentor, who lived some 20 km away. It was quite late in the evening when he returned. He also informed that his ‘teacher’ had given his approval but had suggested that for my own well-being I should tie an amulet, that he had brought from him, on my right arm. It was done. In the meantime, I had feigned extreme fatigue and weakness to Manoj in order to make him agree to extend our stay there by three more days. The Taxi driver was also so told.
Next morning, Aisha gave Manoj a mild sedative along with the breakfast without his knowledge, so he went to sleep shortly thereafter. She had set up a time with Anees at around 9:30 AM. So, she took me to a small room at the back of the cottage, where I walked like a zombie with my mind totally blank. The room was also Anees’s study. An easy chair, a wooden bed and a table & chair comprised all the furniture there, but the almirahs all around were stuffed with lots of books and papers. Anees was sitting at the floor engrossed in deep thought. As if waking from a trance, he motioned me to sit in front of him and asked me to repeat Kalma (Muslim creed, meaning that ‘there is no God except Allah and Muhammad is the prophet of God’) after him. He then motioned to Aisha to take me to bed. Aisha undressed me, quickly and softly repeating her instructions to cooperate and behave naturally for best results and also told me while leaving that she would return after sometime.
I lay under a blanket. As Anees approached the bed, in spite of all advice and assurance from Aisha, a cold nervousness enveloped me. I shut my eyes and tried to re-convince myself that I was undertaking the ordeal for the good of the family and that I had reached a point of no return in the matter. Anees sat on the right side of the bed disrobing. Shortly, he perched along with me supporting his head on his arm. I felt his breath on my face and neck. There was a momentary pause. He then snaked his right arm under the blanket and placed it on my left breast now half covering me. Aisha’s suggestion suddenly flashed in my mind: ‘he would require some foreplay to be able to proceed, so please do co-operate.’ I lay inert gauging his initiative. He became bolder as his palm and fingers started kneading my flesh. They were strong, rough and cold. Lubrication in women is primarily a defense response though it is generally understood as an expression of carnal desire. I squirmed. His hand moved down and a rough fat finger sought my opening. He then pushed up my thighs, his ready organ replacing the finger. He was quite fat there, his shove in forced a gasp from me. I felt the walls of my vagina accommodating him. He remained still for a while and then started thrusting. Though slow in the beginning, his strokes soon acquired a steady rhythm.
Anees continued thus for 15 minutes or so. He then suddenly quickened the pace of his thrusts, his body going tense. He latched on to the amulet on my arm muttering some prayer. I felt his warm ejaculation right in my womb. In turn, my body went limp as I experienced an involuntary spasm. We laid there as such for a couple of minutes, our bodies perspiring. He then withdrew and left. Aisha came in almost immediately. She consoled and encouraged me in my state of semi shock, while she put a small bundle of clothes under the small of my back and instructed me to lie still for some time. After several minutes, she helped me to put on a gown and took me to her room.
More or less the same drill repeated over the next two days, except that the initial inhibition of the first day having gone, Anees became bolder. I also had time to ponder over the situation and talked to Aisha to reinforce faith in my thoughts. It occurred to me that whereas marriage is a man made institution and being sincere to husband is a good thing, ‘faithfulness’ need not be overstretched and special circumstances like mine might require celebration of relationship between a woman and a man as completion of a whole – the eternal truth on which the whole creation is based. Dr. Aisha seemed to comprehend this truth naturally, though outwardly her ‘idea’ appeared to be driven by compassion and fellow feeling. The second day, after spending in me, instead of withdrawing, Anees surprised me by staying a little longer and began thrusting again for a second deposit - a feat rare at his age. I had a feeling that in between someone stealthily came in a certain length of the room and returned. Aisha? But I was not in a position to care for anything. The third day too Anees did it twice and also sniffed at my armpits and even suckled my nipples for a while during its course. The next day we left for home. We did not meet Aisha and Anees thereafter, as per Aisha’s express instructions.
We are now happy parents of a boy, now over 7 years. When he was born, we had sent a small communication to Dr. Aisha and Anees thanking them, only this much was allowed by them. We have named the boy Iqbal that means God’s gift of kindness.
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