Vision
“1..2..3..4....TWO..2..3..4!” I was teaching her a dance-step for their annual function. She was holding my face with her two little hands and learning the neck movement at beat no. TWO. Then she went on to hold my hands and then my knees to understand the step as I counted the 8 beats repeatedly. Learning dance for a visually impaired person is not an easy task as one can imagine. A single step of 8 beats takes at least 10 rounds of repeating as the students touch and understand the movement of various parts of body. And these little girls were doing it.
Me n Sanju were teaching this group together. “You take the step 1 which we’ll repeat twice.. So 16 beats are taken care of. I’ll take the next one which will go for the next 16 beats.”, said Sanju. “Make sure to come up with something easy to understand and memorize for them.” We had distributed dance-steps between us so that each one of us could master the best way of teaching it to our students. We were learning to teach. So every kid had to learn from both of us.
But Devika refused. Every time Sanju would approach her, she would flatly refuse. She would shake her hands in a peculiar way which told us that. She was one of the girls who could hear a little bit and make some sounds, but could not really talk. All these girls had a diminishing eye-sight. What it meant was that the best they could ever see was today and their sight would become weaker and weaker as time passed. They all knew their time frames. Some were going to be totally blind by next 6 months, some, a year. And all these girls were doing was dancing, laughing and having fun. “I’ll take her Sanju. She refuses to learn from anyone else.” I said and I started teaching her.
Devika wanted to learn only from me. Within the 4 rehearsals, she had grown extremely fond of me. She used to identify me by my voice and the peculiar texture of my stole. I wore the same stole for every rehearsal. The more she became adamant to learn only from me, the more I taught her and the more she grew closer to me. At the end of rehearsals one day, as I bid goodbye to Devika, she unexpectedly hugged me... For a long time... Me n Sanju just kept looking at each other. That day, I realised I was treading on delicate ground. I was not going to be there for more than a few days. These girls only had their teachers and each other for support. Their families would or would not come to visit them at the school. If she got too attached to me, how will she cope when I left?
That very moment I stopped teaching her. I did not want to raise her expectations. I did not want her to love me more. I wanted to tell her I won’t be there forever, and the best way to do that was to stop teaching her. As she realized what was happening, she refused to dance at first. She opened her hands trying reaching out to me, made her usual sound. And waited... and waited... and waited...
I refused to budge with great difficulty. I wanted to run to her and hug her tight and magically make her be able to see, hear, talk and do everything any young girl deserves doing. But instead, I did not make a sound, I did not go close to her, I just watched her from a distance. Sanju looked at me quizzically. I just shook my head and she understood. Devika waited for a long time for me to return, before slowly resuming dancing again with a dejected look on her face. Thankfully she didn’t cry, she was definitely much stronger than me.
It was cruel kindness, or at least I thought it was. I just did what my 19-yr old “matured” heart told me to. I still don’t know whether it was a correct thing to do. I dropped that project. I stopped going to the rehearsals, cos I didn’t want her to recognize my voice while I talked to other girls.
This experience helped me understand life. I was the girl who would be irritated if I missed my bus, hurt if my friend forgot to say bye, tensed at the thought of not getting a job. Devika turned me into a young woman who would patiently wait for the next bus without fretting, who would call a friend when she missed them, and live her life in her present. A visually impaired girl opened my eyes.
- Piyu.
“1..2..3..4....TWO..2..3..4!” I was teaching her a dance-step for their annual function. She was holding my face with her two little hands and learning the neck movement at beat no. TWO. Then she went on to hold my hands and then my knees to understand the step as I counted the 8 beats repeatedly. Learning dance for a visually impaired person is not an easy task as one can imagine. A single step of 8 beats takes at least 10 rounds of repeating as the students touch and understand the movement of various parts of body. And these little girls were doing it.
Me n Sanju were teaching this group together. “You take the step 1 which we’ll repeat twice.. So 16 beats are taken care of. I’ll take the next one which will go for the next 16 beats.”, said Sanju. “Make sure to come up with something easy to understand and memorize for them.” We had distributed dance-steps between us so that each one of us could master the best way of teaching it to our students. We were learning to teach. So every kid had to learn from both of us.
But Devika refused. Every time Sanju would approach her, she would flatly refuse. She would shake her hands in a peculiar way which told us that. She was one of the girls who could hear a little bit and make some sounds, but could not really talk. All these girls had a diminishing eye-sight. What it meant was that the best they could ever see was today and their sight would become weaker and weaker as time passed. They all knew their time frames. Some were going to be totally blind by next 6 months, some, a year. And all these girls were doing was dancing, laughing and having fun. “I’ll take her Sanju. She refuses to learn from anyone else.” I said and I started teaching her.
Devika wanted to learn only from me. Within the 4 rehearsals, she had grown extremely fond of me. She used to identify me by my voice and the peculiar texture of my stole. I wore the same stole for every rehearsal. The more she became adamant to learn only from me, the more I taught her and the more she grew closer to me. At the end of rehearsals one day, as I bid goodbye to Devika, she unexpectedly hugged me... For a long time... Me n Sanju just kept looking at each other. That day, I realised I was treading on delicate ground. I was not going to be there for more than a few days. These girls only had their teachers and each other for support. Their families would or would not come to visit them at the school. If she got too attached to me, how will she cope when I left?
That very moment I stopped teaching her. I did not want to raise her expectations. I did not want her to love me more. I wanted to tell her I won’t be there forever, and the best way to do that was to stop teaching her. As she realized what was happening, she refused to dance at first. She opened her hands trying reaching out to me, made her usual sound. And waited... and waited... and waited...
I refused to budge with great difficulty. I wanted to run to her and hug her tight and magically make her be able to see, hear, talk and do everything any young girl deserves doing. But instead, I did not make a sound, I did not go close to her, I just watched her from a distance. Sanju looked at me quizzically. I just shook my head and she understood. Devika waited for a long time for me to return, before slowly resuming dancing again with a dejected look on her face. Thankfully she didn’t cry, she was definitely much stronger than me.
It was cruel kindness, or at least I thought it was. I just did what my 19-yr old “matured” heart told me to. I still don’t know whether it was a correct thing to do. I dropped that project. I stopped going to the rehearsals, cos I didn’t want her to recognize my voice while I talked to other girls.
This experience helped me understand life. I was the girl who would be irritated if I missed my bus, hurt if my friend forgot to say bye, tensed at the thought of not getting a job. Devika turned me into a young woman who would patiently wait for the next bus without fretting, who would call a friend when she missed them, and live her life in her present. A visually impaired girl opened my eyes.
- Piyu.
