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Reborn in court delivery
After 53 days of legal and bureaucratic battles and DNA tests, Kalmunai’s tsunami baby, Abilash, who hit world headlines is reunited with his parents
By Mahangu Weerasinghe
Photographers and camera crews swarm the corridors, spilling over the porch and out into the parched garden. The courtroom itself houses more than 200 people. The magistrate has graciously allowed television crews to set up their tripods on the sides of the Bar table, and the camera assistants stand next to them, knowing that their positions will be snatched up if they budge an inch.

The case is called, but the baby is not here yet. The magistrate decides to move on with some other cases before coming back to Baby 81. There is waiting, and fidgeting, and more waiting. The hall is stuffy, but nobody dares move. Everyone wants the perfect picture, the perfect take and a perfect piece of Asia's little miracle.

Meanwhile at the hospital, the staff is in a hurry to get the baby to the courthouse just down the road. "The case has been called," whispers Inspector Jamil. Resident gynaecologist Dr. Muhundan rushes to get the baby ready. An ambulance is brought to a side entrance of the hospital, and a nurse carrying the child gets into the vehicle. They are escorted by four armed police officers.

Earlier that morning, the media were allowed in to the Children's Ward of the Kalmunai Base Hospital to see Abilash Jeyarajah's last few hours as Baby 81. Wearing a pink dress due to lack of other clothing, Abilash lay in his cot and amused himself. The ward nurses say he is a very good baby, and this is evident by the way he remained unaffected by all the camera flashes going off around him. "Perhaps he is used to all the attention by now," joked one nurse.

"He was called Baby 81 because that is the number on his bed head ticket," explained Acting Matron of the hospital, Komala Sivanantharaja, the nurse-in-charge on the day the baby was brought in. She recalls the moment with mixed emotions.

"He was barely breathing when he was brought in - he hadn't been fed for over eight hours and we had to give him dextrose to re-hydrate him. But the hospital was full of bodies and we could not keep the child here so Nurse Pushparani took him home and brought him back when things were better around here," she said.

The hospital was cleared and reopened on December 28, two days after the tsunami. The infant had been in Ward 5 (the Children's Ward) ever since. Back at the courthouse, there is a mad rush to the door. The ambulance has just arrived, and everyone swarms around. The nurse emerges and is escorted to the door by the Police guard. At the entrance, there is a bottleneck of people. "Move, move," shout the police officers as the nurse manages to squeeze through and make her way to a seat near the witness stand. Through all this drama, the baby lies peacefully in her arms, looking with large eyes at everything going on around him.

The Court Mudliyar calls the case and pandemonium erupts as everyone tries to get closer to Abilash. "Don't disturb the court, media please don't disturb the court proceedings," Magistrate M. P. Mohideen orders, trying his best to be heard above the din. A cameraman tries to get a better angle by standing on a court bench but is promptly asked to get down by the police.

"Please do not use your cameras now," says the magistrate as he begins to read the 22-page handover order. It is a long wait of half an hour for everyone. Most of all Jenita, the baby’s mother, and Murugupillai, the father, are visibly finding it hard to control their emotions. Tears streak down their faces as they put up with this last legal snag. They know that soon they will have their son in their arms again.

Magistrate Mohideen, remarking on the case, said he did not understand media reports that claimed that there were nine claimants to the baby. "There was always only one claiming party, the Jeyarajahs," he said.

The magistrate gave fourfold reason for ordering the baby to be given to the couple. Apart from the DNA tests matching, the magistrate noted that the couple had offered to undergo a DNA test in the first place, thus eliminating the likelihood of impersonation or foul play. He also cited the fact that no claims had come from other parents, even weeks after Abilash's photo appeared in papers and on TV screens worldwide. Finally, the magistrate said his order (on Wednesday) was merely confirming what he had already ruled on the 12th of January.

At 11:10, Magistrate Mohideen finishes reading the order in Tamil, and asks for the baby to be given over to his parents. Jenita takes the baby in her arms and holds him up to her face, kissing his cheeks. Cameramen scamper around for a picture, and she holds the baby and smiles, tears running down her own cheeks. Murugupillai stands aside and ushers his wife towards the exit.

The magistrate has by now left the courtroom and the media circus heightens. Cameramen and photographers crowd around the couple as they exit. Jenita holds the baby against her bosom, trying to protect him from the shoving going on around her. She is visibly upset and even the presence of UNICEF officials doesn't appear to help. Eventually, she is led through the media throng to a UNICEF jeep.

The rest of the day is spent in religious ceremonies. Jenita and Murugupillai keep their vow of breaking 100 coconuts at the Sithivinayagar Temple in Kalmunai. The couple visits four other temples to fulfil similar vows. The family also visit the site of their former home, and feed the baby milk there as a token of good luck.

Finally, after nearly three hours of travelling around Kalmunai, the family arrives at Jenita's aunt's house, where they have found temporary residence. Relatives and family gather around to eat from the fruits offered in the day's poojas. Abilash, as expected, is the centre of attraction.

Murugupillai, the proud father, pries himself away from his son for a few moments to speak to The Sunday Times. "I cannot express my joy in words. We had been through a lot of grief these past few weeks but finally it's all over," he said. "But at the same time we remember all those lost in the tsunami, especially since many of those lost were children."

He said that they remembered all the tsunami victims in their poojas that day. Shri Skandarajah, the man who found Abilash on the evening of December 26, explained how he came upon the baby.

Mr. Skandarajah, or 'Shri Master' as he is known to locals, had worked since morning clearing the area of bodies and getting the injured to hospital. "It was around 6 p.m. and I was hungry. I saw a packet of biscuits on a rubbish heap and reached for it. It was then that I heard a sound, a sound like that of a chicken clucking. I cleared the rubbish and found the baby underneath," he said.

Shri Master said he met the grieving Jeyarajah couple at a refugee camp and told them that he had rescued their child and handed him over to the Kalmunai hospital. The bureaucratic process by then had already started, resulting in the 53-day battle for the baby. "I should never have given the baby to the hospital," Shri Master regretted.

Back at his new home, Abilash is fed by his mother. "We are still not sure if I should breastfeed him or not," said Jenita. "He has been on formula for seven and a half weeks now so maybe he is used to it," she explained. Jenita said she would consult a doctor before she resumes breastfeeding.

It's now evening, and Jenita, with the help of her mother Parameshwari, takes Abilash down to the well for his bath. Filling a pink bathtub to the brim, she slowly slides her son in. Abilash lets out a loud wail. The water is cold, and he obviously doesn't like it. Around him, though, everyone is all smiles. His crying is proof that he is indeed very much alive. And finally, after all this time, he is all theirs.

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