A Voice Unheard- Part I: Prose

Life is Beautiful

This is a sad story. It's sad for many reasons that do not include my attitude to life or the people that God chooses to put on this planet. Growing up with a health disorder is the not the worst possible thing. But it isn't easy. The human intellect is highly overrated, because all that brain has not given humans the ability to feel and empathize. It has only equipped humans with multiple ways of insulting and ostracizing the disabled or differently abled. I would know.

For my whole life, all I can remember is people making me feel inferior in one way or another to the others of my age group. Mentally or physically, I just didn't make the cut. I was too small, too dark, too itchy and too emotional to be accepted by society. You would think explaining my condition would have done some good for my cause and made people come down from their high horses, but it didn't. Telling them what I had elicited several responses – such as outright disbelief, blame towards everyone related to me, blame to my actions in my past life, disgust – that have shattered both my family and myself.

How does one react to such things? How do you live your life without paying heed to those scornful glances, those laughing mouths and those horrible, horrible comments? It starts with blaming God repeatedly and asking Him why He did this to you. The next stage is outright rejection of a God altogether, where you convince yourself that if a God did exist, why would He make people suffer this way. Then comes the worst of all, the shell phase, where you shut everyone out, including your family, because you feel so detached and different. This is the worst phase possible, because of the kind of thoughts that go through your head. It only gets worse if you have no one to talk to, which was my biggest problem. That is when you begin to think that you don't belong. At this juncture, suicidal thoughts are just the beginning of your suffering and then the anger overtakes everything. Everyone seems to have become your enemy and your faith is completely shattered.

And if you thought it stops there, well, it doesn't. I can tell you this with full honesty – the hell you thought was bad just gets worse. On entering college, the opposite sex gets added to the equation. The need for the opposite sex's approval becomes so chronic, it becomes a desperate fight. And then you realize, if you weren't accepted by your own friends, members of your family and people you encountered, there is no chance that a stranger will accept you enough to fall in love you with you. The worst part about college is that everyone is trying to become an adult and figure himself or herself out, and that often leads to clashes, and jealousy and unnecessary competition. Any means to put you down and make you seem small comes out and you see the worst in people. You have two distinct kinds of teasing here – the open kind where people just sit and gossip about everything, which you inevitably hear about, and then you have the ignoring kind. These bigots will be chummy and close with everyone you love, but whilst speaking to you, they wont even give you eye contact. They will look at someone or somewhere else and address their words to you. Why? Cause you're too ugly to be looked at. It is so dehumanizing. Trust me when I say this, when you hear that people think you were adopted (because you look so different from your family) or that you look like an acid victim, the pain is indescribable.

It is hell times two, with no reprieve, because now your professional life gets affected. You get side lined and purposely ignored for opportunities. What makes it worse is when teachers and authorities go along with this open ugly discrimination. The feeling that you are less than everyone else resurfaces in the worst possible moments. Emotions run so high that the tears will come at the slightest provocation.

By and large this is the life of a disabled person, plus or minus a few of the challenges and phases mentioned above. I have watched as lives have been turned upside down because of my illness. Your parents and friends (if you are lucky to have a few) are constantly harangued with questions about you and how they can handle or tolerate you. Again, if you are lucky your friends and parents will stand up for you. Don't be surprised at the random glares and stares on the bus or the subway. If you haven't understood by now then I will reiterate it again – you are just too different to belong!

For me the turning point was when I heard of the analysis some acquaintances of mine had made regarding how unsuitable I would be for marriage and how anyone who married me would be shaming their entire family. The day I learnt of this conversation, was the day I realized that my existence, and the fact that I had survived all my health problems would not go in vain. I decided then and there that the stories of people like myself would be heard. We get it. We are different. We look different. We don't do normal things. Our behaviour doesn't always meet most people's expectations, because we have other more pressing priorities (such as staying alive maybe?).

I honestly do not know how I got through it, for it wasn't my strength alone that got me through it all. At the time I was too stubborn to admit it, but now I can touch my heart and honestly say there was definitely some divine intervention in keeping me alive. For people like myself and for those in worse conditions, life is a long road to hoe, and a lonely one at that. People really go out of their way to show you just how different you are. Today, I can say it loud and proud – I am ugly and I know it. It doesn't mean that I think I am ugly. It just means that I don't care if anyone else thinks that way about me, because I know I am so much more than that. So you can make fun of me and anyone else who suffers from a disability of any kind, but that doesn't change the fact that we are still here. We've survived, and we know the value and meaning of life better than you ever will.