Story 1
Every person has a story to say. Even I have one. This is
not about me but an instance that I came across some time back. Phases, they
say, in our lives come and pass by. It may be a good one or a bad one. You only
judge it when it you are experiencing it or have been a part of it.
I wrote for a health portal professionally then. This job
needed me to interview a mother of an autistic child. I had to meet the lady at
her place in the afternoon and note down her story over a cup of coffee. Like
any other story, this story too needed background research and questions to be
framed that do not hurt the emotions of the mother.
I had already known an autistic child in my family. I knew
how he behaved, what he thought and how he was treated despite his disorder. My
editor had given me instructions at to what I should not ask anything that
might hurt the feelings of the mother and that I should consciously study the
mannerisms—the ethnographic study. This would help us in writing and build up
the story better.
I reached their apartment in the afternoon and was greeted
by the lady herself. She was taking care of her younger daughter—not an
autistic child—as she was preparing to go out and play in the compound park. I
was told to begin my interview for she was now ready to share her story with
me.
The purpose of conducting the interview was only to convey
to the readers that “every child is special to their parents”. This daughter
was the couple’s first child and they didn’t even have an idea about her mental
disorder until she was near about two years old. She explained her initial bouts
of stress, not being able to accept and believe her luck and her daughter.
Medical tests and every other way to find out measures to treat the little
girl, learn about the nuances of the disorder and failing to take her own into
confidence that the child has done nothing wrong. It was not only her
daughter’s struggle to win over the family member through her innocence but it
was her struggle to make others believe that her daughter was the best gift
that God had given her.
The girl is now about to enter her teens and is being taught
at special school. The doctors are hopeful about her wellbeing and that with
special care, she might be able to learn more things and probably take care of
herself. The lady had enrolled herself to classes that teach ways and methods
to help such children overcome their day-to-day struggles. She keeps herself
updated about the new developments in the research and keeps a tab on the
developments that she witnesses in her daughter.
She feels it important to mention that both the sisters love
each other in normal ways and that the younger one is more enthusiastic about
taking her elder sister along when it comes to playing or dancing on bollywood
tunes.
This was a day, a time and a moment that had helped me
realise the joy and pain of being a parent and a mother. While you have
unconditional love for your child who may not be perfect, there’s nothing
enough that you can do to prove your love for them to the on-lookers. For the
mother in my story, hers is a continuing phase but for me, this was a sheer
experience of listening and learning about a woman growing up to become a
wonderful mother. A story of love that cannot be explained through words even
from the finest dictionary that you or I may own! Love that is not found in the
romance novels!
