From cradle to coffin

http://www.artconcerns.net/2007december/html/coverstory.htm

'From cradle to coffin' is a performance based work, made in collaboration with the amateur actors of Beneshwer Lok Vikas Sansthan, Partapur, duirng a site specific residency organised by Sandarbh.
The work is based on the practice of female foeticide.
Bamboo cradles made by the Pratapur based craftsmen are used in most families here. Used cradles were donated by mothers for this project. Some were broken down. Others had tell tale marks of the child like the ‘taveez’ and the ‘sacred thread’. A slight extension made on one of the sides transformed these cradles into the shape of a coffin.
A performance based on ‘The diary of an unborn child’ was set around these cradle-coffins. The five actors dressed in all white took the position of a feotus in the womb, reciting the story of the child until the abortion. The performers carried these cradle-coffins in between the market streets, with performances in between. At the end of the village, the cradle-coffins were offered to the river Mahi following the cremation rites of the dead.

October 5th.
Today my life began. My Parents do not know it yet, I am as small as a seed of an apple, but it is I already. And I am to be a girl. I shall have blond hair and blue eyes. Just about everything is settled though, even the fact that I shall love flowers.
October 19th.
Some say that I am not a real person yet. But I am a real person. My Mother is and I am.
October 23rd
My mouth is just beginning to open now. Just think, in a year or so I shall be laughing and later talking. I know what my first word will be MAMA.
October 25th
My heart began to beat today all by itself. From now on it will gently beat for the rest of my life without ever stopping to rest! And after many years it will tire and then I shall die.
November 2

I am growing a bit every day. My arms and legs are beginning to take shape.
November 12

Tiny fingers are beginning to form on my hands. Funny how small they are! I’ll be able to stroke my mother’s hair with them.
November 20

It wasn’t until today that the doctor told mom that I am living here under her heart. Oh, how happy she must be! Are you happy, mom?
November 25

My mom and dad are probably thinking about a name for me. But they don’t even know that I am a little girl. I want to be called Kathy.
December 10

My hair is growing. It is smooth and bright and shiny. I wonder what kind of hair mom has.
December 13

I am just about able to see. It is dark around me. When mom brings me into the world it will be full of sunshine and flowers.
December 24

I wonder if mom hears the whispering of my heart?
December 28

Today my mother killed me.