From Cauvery to Ganga

Chapter 38: The Visible Burden

Weeks had slipped by like the slow, muddy flow of the Cauvery during the dry season.

I had grown disturbingly accustomed to this life.

Waking at 4:40 AM had become muscle memory. The hard floor no longer shocked my back the way it used to. The dampness, the thin blanket, Pihu’s small warm body pressed against me, it all felt normal now. Almost comforting in its predictability.

My belly had started to show.

The advanced prosthetic that Robby had fitted was working exactly as promised. It had begun as a small, barely noticeable bump at 16 weeks. Now, at what the system simulated as 22 weeks, it was clearly visible, a firm, rounded swell that stretched the front of my sarees and made the petticoat string sit lower and tighter. The weight was realistic. The slight forward tilt in my posture was automatic now. Sometimes, in the quiet moments, I could even feel faint, programmed movements inside, soft flutters that made my breath catch every single time.

I was visibly pregnant.

Sunita Devi, wife of Ramesh Kumar, expecting her second child.

Morning Routine

I woke up slowly, one hand instinctively resting on the gentle curve of my belly. The mangalsutra lay nestled between my breasts, slightly warmer than usual. Ramesh’s arm was draped loosely over my waist, his rough hand resting protectively just above the bump. He had grown gentler these past weeks, even though he knew the truth. He never pushed for intimacy anymore unless I initiated (which I rarely did), but he was caring in small ways: bringing me extra water when I looked tired, massaging my aching lower back at night, making sure I ate first before he did.

Pihu stirred beside me and immediately placed both tiny hands on my belly.

“Baby brother?” she asked sleepily, eyes shining with excitement.

I smiled softly and stroked her hair. “Maybe, beta… let’s see.”

The colony women had noticed the bump too. During the communal bath or evening gossip circles, they would tease me lovingly.

“Arre Sunita didi, ab toh pet saaf dikh raha hai! Ladka hoga pakka. Ramesh bhaiya khush honge!”

I would only lower my gaze shyly and adjust my pallu, feeling the heavy weight of the bump shift as I moved. The permanent anklets jingled louder now because of the changed centre of gravity. Walking had become slower, more careful. My breasts felt fuller and more tender. The tight blouses strained even more across my chest.

The Walk to Gounder Illam

After sending Pihu to school and finishing the morning housework, I began the familiar walk to Gounder Illam.

The sun was already harsh. Sweat formed quickly under my arms and down my back, making the cheap blouse stick to my skin. The visible pregnant belly made the saree drape differently ,the pallu kept slipping off my shoulder more often, forcing me to adjust it constantly with one hand while supporting my lower back with the other. The permanent silver anklets felt heavier with every step. My feet were swollen slightly from the pregnancy simulation and the long walks.

I reached the back gate of my old home.

The security guard now recognised me.

“Arre Sunita… aaj bhi kaam hai? Andar jaao.”

No one suspected a thing.

I had earned a little trust over the past weeks. I worked quietly, efficiently, never complained, and kept my head down. My mother had even started calling me by name instead of just “Bihari.”

But the humiliations never stopped.

Today, while I was cleaning the living room on my hands and knees, my sister Priya walked past with her friends.

“Look at her belly,” one of the friends whispered loudly. “These Bihari women get pregnant so easily. Like rabbits.”

My mother laughed. “What else do they have to do? At least she works hard. Better than the last lazy one we had.”

I kept scrubbing the floor, cheeks burning, the visible bump pressing against my thighs as I bent forward. The glass bangles clinked rhythmically with each stroke. Sweat dripped from my forehead onto the marble.

In another room, I could hear the new Satyaraj, the real Sunita, talking to my father. His voice (her voice, modulated) sounded so natural now. He had adapted perfectly. My father sounded proud when he spoke to him. “Finally you’re taking responsibility, beta.”

The contrast hurt more than any physical labour.

Evening

I returned to the colony exhausted, my lower back aching from the added weight of the prosthetic belly. The other women fussed over me, offering extra food and advice about pregnancy.

“Arre bahu, ab zyada kaam mat kar. Bachche ke liye khayal rakh.”

Ramesh was waiting when I reached home. He helped me sit down carefully, brought me water, and gently massaged my swollen feet. His touch was caring, almost loving. He knew the truth, yet he treated me with a quiet respect that surprised me more each day.

Pihu kept touching my belly excitedly, talking to the “baby brother” inside.

“Mummy ka baby… mera bhai!”

I smiled through the exhaustion, stroking her hair.

Night

Lying on the hard mat that night, Pihu curled against my side and Ramesh on the other, I stared at the ceiling.

Nithya had visited secretly earlier that evening.

She still loved me, as a person, as someone she deeply cared about. But the romantic spark was gone. I had seen it in her eyes. She had found someone new, a doctor from her hospital. She tried to hide it from me, thinking it would hurt me.

It did. But I understood.

Looking at myself now ,pregnant belly, saree-clad, calloused hands, permanent jewellery marking me as another man’s wife, how could anyone still see Satyaraj in me?

Everyone else seemed content.

Ramesh had a wife and a growing family.
Pihu had her mother.
The new Satyaraj was thriving in my old life.
My family had their son back.
Nithya had moved on and found peace.

Only I remained stuck.

Carrying this belly.
Enduring this life.
Walking the road I had chosen.

I placed both hands gently on the rounded swell of my prosthetic belly and closed my eyes.

This is the price.

For a better ending for everyone.

I will see it to the end.

Even if it broke me completely.