womens day


A short story  about the birth of Shakti in every little baby girl.

Who’s the special little blood cell then? Cooed mama as she cradled the little red blob in her arms. Baby gurgled, and reached out chubby little hands trying to grab mommy’s smile. “you’re not like the other bloodcells darling, no, no, no always remember that okay”

Baby stopped gurgling and looked deep into her mother’s eyes questioningly. Mama laughed softly. Mama had been a little baby too when her mother had whispered the magic words into her ears, while she crawled around the corners of the veins, where it was safer, and less slippery. Putting the baby down on the side of the vein she spoke to the vein about taking care of her for a second while she popped around to check on the oxygen supplies. Vein was an old hand at this, millions of little ones she had baby sat, waiting and watching them as they grew older and stronger, ready to carry the load. But there was something unique about this babooshka. She glowed happilly in the corner, kicking at the vein’s walls while chattering to herself. Then it struck her, of course, this is not the ordinary bloodcell. This is a bloodcell with a mission. This is the strength giving bloodcell who’ll wait around in the corners till she is needed one day, and then she will burn and race through the veins like a bullet of fire, strengthening every nerve and fibre. The vein smiled softly to herself as she allowed the baby to chew on her walls curiously. But of course!

Mama bloodcell flowed back, thanked the vein and picked up the baby on her back, and while doing so, she whispered “come now, my little shakti, come I shall show you your passage, so you will never need a road map when you’re suddenly called upon” Baby laughed out loud and blew a bubbly kiss at the vein who shed a tear of pride.


Happy Women’s Day!

Mita Bhan