Instead of sharing my thoughts, today, I would like to share a story.
I met her in social media. One misty midnight, I was in my balcony and watching the ebony peace, when a notification in my phone broke the silence suddenly. A friend request from a young lady almost of same age as mine, was waiting to be confirmed.
Aaira, a beautiful young tulip; I became amazed by her personality and depth. She was like the sky. I really enjoyed our conversation. Gradually we got acquainted with each other.
Once, she sounded very low. I asked her and came to know that she had been missing her child very much. During this lockdown period it was impossible for her to reach her offspring. I was a little bit surprised and wanted to know about her daughter, where she was and why they lived separately.
And the rest of the story bewildered me.
She is a surrogate mother (not for money). Pamela, her daughter, is a little bunny. She was taught to call her Ammi, though she is not allowed to write her name as her mother officially. Anyway, they met everyday. Even she has been reared covering with the shield of the love of three - Aaira and her legal parents.
Thus the story can reach its end , but no, something remains.
I asked for her daughter's picture once; and another misty midnight, my messenger knocked and a photo peeped through the chat.
Pamela with her parents - two young gentlemen with motherly smile and fatherly vigour.
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