Fiction “We can’t postpone the delivery anymore,” Shiv Kumar told his wife. Lakshmi’s labour pain had started long ago. A week ago, to be precise, the day after the Prime Minister had declared all high denomination currency of the country invalid. There was only one private hospital in the small town near their home where delivery cases would be entertained. That hospital flatly refused to admit patients who didn’t carry valid currency. “We can pay by debit card,” pleaded Shiv Kumar. “Sorry, we don’t have that facility yet. Take your wife to the government hospital. They will accept invalid currency.” Lakshmi flatly refused to go to a government hospital. “I won’t have my son born amidst filth and that too paid for by invalid currency.” Son, yes, they knew it was a son and not a daughter they were going to beget. Lakshmi had conceived after they had undergone the Divya-Putrasanjeevani treatment carried out by Gurudev Baba who had miraculous cures for
Cerebrate and Celebrate