The other day I read an article in the soul curry section of TOI's Sunday edition 'Life', which was titled 'Prisoner of my image'. It was written by a man who refused to embrace his own people in his life just because they were not like him. He described as to how he kept running away from his leucoderma afflicted mother and a blind brother throughout his life for the fear of being mocked at by the society. He never acknowledged their presence in public for he was too ashamed of their defects.
No doubt, the society's non-acceptance of such people saddens me, but what hurt me the most was the cowardice of the man who could not accept his own people, the way they were, for apparently no mistake of their own.
On a rainy Saturday afternoon, I was heading for home in a Virar-bound local. There were a few passengers scattered here and there and most of them enjoying the luxury of the window-seat, an absolute rarity on other week days. At Dadar, one old woman and two middle-aged women got into the train. The old lady was their mother. All of them wore flowers in their neatly braided hair and were gracefully dressed in bright coloured sarees. However, one of the daughters didn't seen to be normal. As soon as she came in, she rushed towards a vacant window seat with a child-like exuberance and began clapping loudly. She kept smiling and talking to herself, made all kinds of strange expressions and blinked very often. All the fellow passengers were clearly distracted, some were even amused at the lady's naïve gestures. However, the accompanying ladies remained calm and took their seats adjacent her. I realised that she was mentally deranged.
After a while, she began insisting she wanted to stand by the compartment door and enjoy the monsoon scenes. The next thing I expected was that her sister would snap at her for the sheer inconvenience of having to manage an unpredictable person like her at such a risky position in the train compartment. But I was wrong. The sister obliged. She lovingly took her hand and escorted her towards the door.
From the fast moving train, the lady clapped loudly and bid good-byes to the people standing on the opposite station. To my surprise, her sister did not stop her or scold her even this time. Meanwhile, the old lady sat smiling and looking adoringly at her two daughters. The sisters talked and giggled all the time while they were at the door.
I found myself smiling too at the love and acceptance of the ladies for their own person who was just not normal or more roughly speaking a misfit for this fast-paced competitive world. My heart was lighter. After reading the TOI article, I had begun to believe that special people just cannot hope for a normal life in this world because of the most perfect people (atleast thats what you and me would like to believe about ourselves). A life in which they can speak, act and behave the way they want, without any inhibitions, without any barriers.
I would really like to thank the compassionate Higher force, who constantly lends me the nectar of hope and positivity through myriad situations I come across in life. HE has been eternally helping me discover a world which is still positive and full of hope every time HE sees me fall into the chasm of doubt and despair. I acknowledge HIS subtle yet firm presence in my life and look forward to HIS special message with every rising sun. Thank you so much...
