Deaf But Not Dumb….

A child is pure grace bestowed by Almighty to His man….a personally carved signature masterpiece; if this was believed he would have to cross swords only with the world. Unresponsive to sounds, stamped deaf, growin up in people of own kind was the way left. Being the direction of fingers tip by everyone, pierced him deep down the soul. He knew he could never use his tongue to pronounce nor he could know the magic of sound. He was special indeed very special. He had a blessing that he couldn’t listen….good or ill, so he kept on doing what he wanted. Lack of awareness among society confined him to his walls, whom he spoke to. He was physically challenged not mentally impaired but i wish people could have realizer and would not have snatched away his childhood.

Being ignored to play with, he had to face rejection. His toys were the fact to accept who he was and the frustration of lonliness he was accompanied by.
With grief he gazed from his window, children stuffed in vans for school dressd in uniforms. He was aged same as them just lacked the glow of happiness and the naughtiness that separated children distinctively. Getting their child enrolled in a special school was no easy task after noticing this. Neighbourhood just isolated this family for having a blessfull child. Encountering a cold shoulder from his father at home, he started enjoying at skool among people who were somewhat like him. He enjoyed bits of superiority and inferiority among his peeps. He got his smile back and the difference of right and wrong was thus in his reach now. A whole new world of pure souls that was. Communication was the major barrier he broke and scholarized what he had: hands; yes he learnt sign language. Time went by and his fathers worries got higher for he was worried for his son after himself.

Having little knowledge how to comprehend english was somehow a disadvantage but he didn’t let it be an obstacle in his way of passion. He lacked the ability to speak and listen but had the gift of art. He got in a school of what was called ‘for normal’… There, he studied among the people who were physically blessed with all senses. He had just one way to express himself, which became his words for his sounds: his work, his sculptures. He used clay as his medium to depict the close association with mother Earth. He knew he belonged there; his life started from mud and will end on same. He moulded clay to embody his thoughts and ideas so as the world could see from his eyes and be astonished by this free bird’s view. Every detail of day to day items and behaviours he absorbed by just looking all these years were the highlight of his work. He being the way he was, achieved highest honour amongst his colleagues and that too on the basis of his work. He created a history and would be remembered for the years after, in words of gold making his parents feel proud for raising him and giving him a chance to live..