Shambhu, a young man in his mid-twenties, felt a shiver run down his spine as a brisk wind swept through, carrying a sharp chill that penetrated deep into his bones. 

The frosty mist escaping his lips, the glistening dewdrops clinging to the leaves, and his frequent attempts to warm his hands by blowing into them were unmistakable signs that winter had arrived. 

Standing tall at nearly 6'2" with broad shoulders, he had recently secured a position as a guard at a nearby palace. Embracing the responsibilities of fatherhood made this job even more meaningful to him. After completing his shift at the palace today, he found himself grateful for the comforting warmth of his guard uniform.

As he made his way home after a long day at work, a faint cry caught his attention, emanating from a nearby dumpster. Intrigued, he approached cautiously and was taken aback to discover a newborn baby swaddled in a grimy blanket.

Without a moment's hesitation, he hurried the infant to a nearby clinic for immediate assistance. It was a modest private clinic operated by a local physician, but a physician nonetheless.

Upon entering the clinic, he found the doctor seated alone, engrossed in a book.

“Doctor!!” Shambhu called out urgently.

The doctor, a man in his early thirties, looked up, surprised to see him. “Oh, Shambhu, what brings you here? Is everything okay?” he inquired, clearly recognizing his visitor.

“Doctor, I found this,” Shambhu said, gesturing to the child in his arms. “baby in a dumpster nearby. Given the chilly weather, I thought it best to bring him to you to ensure he’s alright.”

The doctor sprang into action upon seeing the child.

“You did the right thing, Shambhu. Please, lay the baby on the bed. We’re fortunate to have a generator running right now; otherwise, you know how dire the situation can be in this small town,” he said while examining the infant.

“I know, I know. We barely get three or four hours of electricity a day; it’s a struggle,” Shambhu replied, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

“Shambhu, why don’t you head to the police station and inform the authorities while I tend to the baby?” the doctor suggested after a moment.

Shambhu frowned thoughtfully and replied, “But they’ll just send the baby to an orphanage.”

“What do you expect the police to do? They won’t keep the baby themselves,” the doctor responded with a sigh.

He went "We have a responsibility to ensure the child's safety, even if it means involving the authorities. They may attempt to locate the baby’s family.”

“What do you mean 'may'? Are you saying you don’t have faith in the police?” Shambhu challenged the doctor.

“It's not that I distrust the police, but…” He hesitated briefly before continuing. “You know how things work in India, especially in the western and northwestern parts. Child abandonment is a serious issue, particularly when it comes to girls, and it poses a significant challenge for society. Some parents are making the heartbreaking choice to abandon their daughters. In the most extreme situations, there are families that even go so far as to take their children's lives. Despite the recent technological advancements that allow for gender identification before birth, many families don’t stop at having just one child; they keep trying until they finally have a son. I specially worry that this technology will lead to a rise in abortions, especially of female fetuses. There’s this deep-rooted belief that daughters are merely 'someone else's responsibility' while sons are seen as vital for supporting parents in their later years.” 

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The doctor’s face twisted in revulsion as he contemplated the grim realities of contemporary Indian society. 

Shambhu listened intently, nodding in understanding. After all, he had witnessed this troubling reality in his own home not long ago. Although he doesn’t share this mindset due to his exposure to diverse cultures and foreign travelers in Rajasthan, his parents hold a different view. It’s fortunate that his firstborn is a boy.

The doctor elaborated, “If the firstborn happens to be a girl, families are likely to keep her. However, if the second child is also a girl, there's a significant chance they might abandon her. While this is tragic, it’s still a lesser evil than outright killing. Consequently, when the police eventually locate the families of these abandoned infants, they often refuse to acknowledge the children. This leads the police to conduct only a cursory investigation before sending the child to an orphanage. In this case, since the child is a boy, the reasons for abandonment could differ, which means there’s a possibility the police might track down his parents. That’s why I used the word ‘may.’”

“Alright, I’ll head to the police station, but it’s evident you have a strong passion for this issue,” Shambhu said with a chuckle to ease the tension in the room.

"Actually, I've just started collaborating with an NGO dedicated to these issues, and in a matter of months, I've come across numerous similar situations. I was feeling incredibly stressed, and without an outlet, it all bubbled over like this. I apologize for that," the doctor said, his expression tight with discomfort. 

"There's no need to fret about it. It's great that you've discovered a way to channel your stress," Shambhu replied with a light-hearted laugh.

****************************************

After a while, Shambhu made his way back to the clinic, having successfully filed a report with the police.

“The police advised me to take the child to a nearby orphanage,” Shambhu informed the doctor, his expression clouded with concern.

“You'll need to head to Jaipur then. That's where the closest orphanage is,” the doctor responded.

Shambhu fell into a deep silence, lost in thought. The doctor, sensing his unease, inquired, “Is everything alright? What’s on your mind?”

Startled by the doctor's question, Shambhu snapped back to reality. 

“Well…” he hesitated, gathering his thoughts. “I’m on guard duty at the palace, so I can’t take any time off. I’ll be there from 8 in the morning until 8 at night, and with no one at home…” His voice trailed off as he avoided the doctor’s gaze.

The doctor, fully aware of Shambhu's distress, chuckled softly to ease the tension. "You really don’t need to feel guilty about this, Shambhu ji. In fact, I’m meeting with some folks from the NGO I work with tomorrow. They run orphanages across India, including one in Jaipur. Since I’m involved with them, I can assure you that the baby will be well cared for. So, there's no need for you to worry. I’ll handle everything," he said, flashing a reassuring smile to help lift some of Shambhu's guilt.

Upon hearing the doctor's words, Shambhu let out a deep sigh of relief, visibly shedding the weight he had been carrying.

Gratitude was all he could express.

“How’s the baby?!” Shambhu burst out, suddenly recalling the purpose of his visit.  

“Don’t worry, the baby is doing well. I don’t think he was left alone for too long, which worked in our favor. Right now, he’s sleeping soundly.”  

“Thank goodness!” Shambhu said a silent prayer, a smile of relief spreading across his face. 

Shambhu stayed in clinic for few more minutes before taking his leave.

“Then I’ll take my leave, doctor. I truly appreciate your help,” Shambhu said as he made his way out of the clinic.  

The doctor simply smiled back, guiding him toward the exit.  

Shambhu remained silent, briefly hesitating, stopping at the clinic's entrance. He looked back towards the doctor.

Seeing his hesitation, doctor assured him once more and wished him spend a peaceful night.

‘Looks like I’ll have to reschedule my get-together with friends,’ the doctor mused to himself, watching Shambhu's back going back his home, still wearing a smile.