The lady wearing red,with a bright red spot on her forehead,
Stood before the doorsteps..
In her embrace was a child,laughing,playing.
She did not want to walk in,the door was waiting for her..
But the laughter of the child was so enchanting that she did not want to get in..
As if lost in a dream,she stood,holding the child,pink,in a towel..
Her eyes held all the love in the world,for her child..
But suddenly it changed..
She lied on the bed,as the women around her screamed..
She could not handle it,the last bit of of pain before childbirth .
Her lips,chapped,eyes rolled back..
Her face purple,limbs cold..
Sweat beads from the hard labour..
Slowly the moving limbs became numb..
The beating heart stopped..
Instead of the cries of the child and rejoice of motherhood
There was suppressed cries of death..
And infront of the doorway she stood,hesitant..
She didnot want to go in..
All these days,she was wandering around her husband and family..
But now,in the end,she stood,with the last company,her child..
Still,looking at the door,and at the encouraging smile,she stepped in..
Towards a new life..
