Lakshmi was clearly delighted in her new surroundings – this was her first ever proper brick-built home with an adjoining bathroom and courtyard. True to form and the values the SKSN kids are being imbibed with, the students had rallied round and spent a lot of time decorating Nunu’s new home. They had filled it up with tons of toys – mostly donated by the kids, even though they own very little themselves.

All was well until her first physiotherapy session. Nunu screamed herself hoarse as the physio gently moved her stiff legs. Thereafter, the very mention of the name ‘Preeti’, and it would make her run for cover. But even these daily traumas began to produce results – the tears lessened each day and the results began to speak for themselves. Within a few days, she was able to pull herself up by hanging onto the side of the bed or chair, and manage to stand for a few seconds at a time. Her face would light up with a smile every time she was able to do this independently!

Seating Nunu in the baby walker for the first time was a sight to be remembered. Initially, she could only propel herself backwards, but having got the hang of how to move forwards within a few days, she learnt to throw herself around her new home, enjoying her newfound mobility more with each passing day. It was a real joy to see her make a dash for the kitchen every time Dr Bhati, SKSN’s Secretary, turned up to see the family – she made it her personal task to bring him a large bottle of drinking water now that she could move around autonomously.

Mithu, her brother, was another ball game altogether. While his sister was blossoming in her newfound freedom, he was going through hell. His first day at school was probably one of the most horrendous days of his little life – he ran away from class at least five times!! But, he too began to settle down once he’d made some friends. Very soon, Mithu could be seen hanging around the classroom a good half-hour before school was to begin. He would gobble his meals down just so he could get back to play with his new friends. And never was he late for class again.

By mid-January, Poonam had just over a fortnight to go before the delivery of her third child. Unlike her two previous pregnancies in Bihar, she’d been having weekly consultations with the gynecologist since her arrival in Jodhpur. It might be difficult for people living in the West to believe that even after the birth of Lakshmi, Poonam didn’t have an ultrasound scan done to make sure the new baby was alright until we got her down to Sparsh Hospital. I remember an Indian gynae friend of mine once telling me that it is a crime if a woman did not have at least one scan during the course of her pregnancy. But this is much easier said than done. Sure – it’s very possible when such scans are readily available on the National Health Service in England, but it is not so doable when the decision for such medical care boils down to one thing: Can a woman like Poonam Tatma afford to pay 1500 Indian rupees for a scan – a sum equivalent to almost $ 37 US – when the family earns less than that figure to feed the entire household for a month? Heart wrenching choice to make. What does a mother do? Which way does she turn? Time and time again, rightly or wrongly, I see such rural folks from poor socio-economic backgrounds placing their fate in the lap of the Gods. Just like Poonam did with Lakshmi.

But what if Poonam had had a scan while she was pregnant with Lakshmi? Would Poonam have opted for an abortion? I love Nunu to bits and can’t quite envisage my world without her. And right now, I’m sure neither can her parents. So, is it all right then to leave such things to fate and destiny after all – as is the philosophy followed by millions of Indian people? India has always been a country of contrasts and extremes. On the one hand, there aren’t enough funds available to entitle every Indian woman to that ‘one scan’ which could help detect genetic abnormalities early on in pregnancy; yet on the other, as in the case of Lakshmi, millions of rupees can be found to ‘correct that accident caused by nature’. Approximately 3 million rupees ($75,000 US) were spent on Nunu’s treatment by Sparsh Hospital – the same sum of money could also have bought some 2,500 ultrasound scans for mothers living in the rural regions of India.

7:15 pm, January 30th 2008: Poonam gives birth to a beautiful baby girl, and their daughter is named after the Goddess of Education – Saraswati. Joy all round, particularly for Poonam since the baby has been born healthy and normal. Shambu, however, I’m sure was secretly hoping for another boy. It is not his fault for wishing something like this even when he has a perfectly healthy child lying in his lap. I’m also sure he’s not biased against the girl child because I’ve seen the way he dotes on Nunu, but he is a part of a nation that still follows a culture where people idolize sons and mourn daughters. The girl child has traditionally been considered inferior and a liability – a bride's dowry can cripple a poor family financially for generations when small debts build into gigantic ones because of heavy interest rates. Hence the glum faces when a baby girl makes her appearance into the world.

It’s been a real rollercoaster ride for the family with assaults fired at them on all fronts – mentally, emotionally, physically, and psychologically. Hats off to all of them for taking everything that was thrown at them in their collective stride, as they faced every challenge head on. It’s not quite over yet with a few more operations hanging in the balance, but they are over the worst of it.

Lastly, it has been a real privilege for the crew and I to be invited to accompany Nunu and her family on this special journey. Once in a lifetime experience!! In addition, for me in particular, they have breathed a new meaning into words like will power, determination, confidence, trust, loyalty, love, pain, commitment, joy and destiny!! I’ve learnt a lot by spending time with this incredible family, and I thank them for this.