My roommate S and I have started our family planning. We had long discussions on whether it was the right time. Were we thinking straight? Were we ready for a deeper commitment? Would it be sensible to have a baby in the house with the hours we keep? Were we financially capable of supporting a baby? Of giving it a good happy home and upbringing? There were a million and one questions and the same answer to each of these questions, ‘Where there is a will there is a way.’
After days of dilly-dallying, we decided to be honest with ourselves. Did we want a baby because we wanted to give it a good home or did we want a baby to give us company in the long lonely weekends? Were we being selfish?

We shall wait for some more time, we decided. We have each other we said and exchanged fond glances.

I had thought then that we had pushed back our family-planning thoughts till at least next year when late one night S started talking. It was a cozy scene. I was reading a book under a lamp and S sprawled on the floor was watching TV, switching from channel to channel restlessly. She turned to me with big sad eyes. “Please let’s get a baby,” she cried. I looked at her sternly, giving her a ‘We’ve discussed this before!’ look. Teary-eyed she said, “It doesn’t take much to keep a tortoise. They don’t eat much. They stay in their quiet shell. They are ok if there’s nobody home. Imagine now, if we had a baby tortoise in the house, it would be crawling all over the floor. There would be life in this house.” She heaved a long sad sigh and turned back to the TV.
Women! I swear!