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Ask yourself 2 questions...
2nd July 1999 Preeti Goel @vsnl.com
After reading this piece ask yourself 2 questions..... 1. Can I do what Mark did for Susan....? 2. Do I have enough Sensitivity and Patience to harness positive emotions successfully...? Honest Answers would help you gain valuable insights into your realms of Sensitivity and Patience with others.... Read on.... you might have gone through this piece before... but answering these 2 questions would make it different... ______________________________________________________ The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps. She paid the driver and, using her hands to feel the location of the seats, walked down the aisle and found the seat he'd told her was empty. Then she's settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap and rested her cane against her leg. It had been a year since Susan, thirty-four, became blind. Due to a medical misdiagnosis she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration and self-pity. Once a fiercely independent woman, Susan now felt condemned by this terrible twist of fate to become a powerless, helpless burden on everyone around her. "How could this have happened to me?" she would plead, her heart knotted with anger. But no matter how much she cried or ranted or prayed, she knew the painful truth - her sight was never going to return. A cloud of depression hung over Susan's once optimistic spirit. Just getting through each day was an exercise in frustration and exhaustion. And all she had to cling to was her husband Mark. Mark was an Air Force officer and he loved Susan with all of his heart. When she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again. Mark's military background had trained him well to deal with sensitive situations, and yet he knew this was the most difficult battle he would ever face. Finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? She used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. Mark volunteered to drive her to work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city. At first, this comforted Susan and fulfilled Mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task. Soon, however Mark realized that this arrangement wasn't working - it was hectic, and costly. Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again, he admitted to himself. But just the thought of mentioning it to her made him cringe. She was still so fragile, so angry. How would she react? Just as Mark predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again. "I'm blind!" she responded bitterly. "How am I supposed to know where I'm going? I feel like you're abandoning me." Mark's heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. He promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. And that is exactly what happened. For two solid weeks, Mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day. He taught her how to rely on her other senses, specifically her hearing, to determine where she was and how to adapt to her new environment. He helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat. He made her laugh, even on those not-so-good days when she would trip exiting the bus, or drop her briefcase. Each morning they made the journey together, and Mark would take a cab back to his office. Although this routine was even more costly and exhausting than the previous one, Mark knew it was only a matter of time before Susan would be able to ride the bus on her own. He believed in her, in the Susan he used to know before she'd lost her sight, who wasn't afraid of any challenge and who would never, ever quit. Finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left she threw her arms around Mark, her temporary bus riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his patience, his love. She said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday ... Each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. She was doing it! She was going to work all by herself! On Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. As she was paying for her fare to exit the bus, the driver said, "Boy, I sure envy you." Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year? Curious, she asked the driver, "Why do you say that you envy me?" The driver responded, "It must feel so good to be taken care of and protected like you are." Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, and asked again, "What do you mean?" The driver answered, "You know, every morning for the past week, a fine looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you when you get off the bus. He makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches you until you enter your office building. Then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute and walks away. You are one lucky lady." Tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. For although she couldn't physically see him, she had always felt Mark's presence. She was lucky, so lucky, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe - the gift of love that can bring light where there had been darkness. _______________________________________________________
3rd July 1999
Pranav Lal @softhome.net
Hi Preeti and all, I can partially relate to Susan. Being blind from birth., I never went through the depression of suddenly loosing a sense. Yes, support is always appreciated and Mark gave the right kind. And, do not gloss over the 2 week training period. It illustrates remarkable creativity and adaptability. Mind you, things are not so bad. The Delhi bus is whild but the public is as a rule helpful. Pranav home page: http://www.members.tripod.com/slimprize/index.html
5th July 1999
Srinath S @geocities.com
Hi Pranav and Preeti and all, I was wondering whether you could help me, Pranav.. It was intriguing to read your email and to know that you are visually impaired from birth. I would like to learn more about how you use the computer. Do you use any special kind of software to read what is on the screen and to type in input, or do you take the help of someone else to do it? I am asking it because I am interested to know about any softwares written for helping visually impaired to use the computer effectively. One of my colleagues was asking about that. Unfortunately this is not a case of blind from birth and the life story had all the elements of depression and courage rendered in Mark and Susan's story. Best Wishes Srinath -- Send in your ideas to address challenges of Indian life: http://www.indiapolicy.org/ifi
5th July 1999
Chirag Mehta @india.com
Dear Mr. Pranav, Preeti and everybody, Preeti, the Mark/Susan story was honestly heart-moving. Mr. Pranav, you talked about the Delhi buses. Well, all this seems quite coincidental to me. Something happened to me while commuting in a bus in Calcutta some months ago. And it was so moving and powerful that I was somehow compelled to write it all in words. You may call it a short story or an essay or whatever, but for me it was something that changed my whole outlook towards people who are physically challanged in some form or other. I would want to share the same with all of you. ----- Sorry ----- If there is anything constant in the cosmos, it is the speed of light. If there is anything vibrant in the universe, it is the array of colours portrayed by light. If there is anything Omni-powerful in the macrocosm, it is the light itself. Blessed are we, that we are gifted with two eyes that knit us to this vast infinite power of truth and beauty. And may God bless those, who are not. The world is in perpetual commotion; day after day, night after night. Unnatural things happen, and often go unnoticed. Sometimes it seems that these eyes, that open us to the inexhaustible beauty of the world, have become mere sensors that enable us to know who are the prey and who are the birds of prey. But once in a zillion sights, our eyes see something, something supernatural, yet true enough to be seen, pondered over and written about. Sights that are downright earthly yet seem so extraordinary to the human mind. I stretched out my hand and barely managed to hold on to the already moving bus. It was odd for me to spend almost all my money on a bottle of cold drink, leaving behind Rs. 1.25p only; just enough to take me home in a bus. The ‘Ship of Calcutta’ was quite empty taking into account that it was ten thirty in the morning. I scanned the bus for a comfy seat and succeeded in the attempt. The bus in the meanwhile was on full throttle and charging ahead noisily. I settled down and looked around, and then felt sorry for doing this. Just in front of me was seated, or rather a little to the left, a little girl with her mother (I assume it was really her mother) holding on to her school bag. Her eyes had said it all. I turned my head away, for the reason that I could not bear to look towards her; I was in quite a good mood and did not wish to feel sorry for her lack of sight. But my mind did ponder over what my eyes had refused to see. I thanked God for giving me the gift of sight. I even thanked him for giving me the ability to hear what was going on in the world. It did not matter, if at that time, I was not hearing the sweet song of a nightingale or the murmuring of a brook. While thinking and thanking, all of a sudden it seemed to me that there was so much to hear in this world, so much. I could hear the honking of a nearby car and the ear-piercing angry complaints made by its driver to the vehicle in front of it, that somehow refused to move on and had stuck on to the road, its engines blurring out all other sounds around me. But how could any sound ever stop me from hearing that familiar old and widely used phrase - "Baba, kichu deen na...." - Sir, please give something. Be it good or bad, but I never ever used to give anything to the poor. After all it was my father’s hard earned money and how could I give it to someone just without a proper rhyme or reason. And why should I have felt guilty at that time, for not giving anything to him; after all he had more than five-six rupees in the bowl in his hand, whereas I had rupee one and paise twenty five only. I relaxed down and sighed, not feeling a bit guilty for not pitying on the poor blind man. The blind man was groping his way up to the little girl and for an instance I felt I had seen some motion in the girl. Her mother had given something in her hands to which she held on tightly. Yes! The world around me was changing. In a couple of nanoseconds it had metamorphosed into a world of supernatural sights. What do I see! For the first time, in my life I had seen a face so deprived of life, become so full of true happiness in so infinitesimal amount of time. The little girl’s face had lit up and I could almost see the aura around her. Her eyes seemed to say something divine, something godly. Her lips had curled into an ever-so-heart-warming smile and she stretched out her hand to give something. Both, she and the blind man, groped around for sometime, although to me it seemed like aeons; she to give the blessing and he to accept. Never in my entire life had I become a witness to something so heavenly. At that time, it seemed all my sense organs had given their strength, to my eyes, for I could not, but look and look and look at the divinity of the sight. The man moved on towards me and my hand gave away the little amount of money I had, my legs took me to the entrance of the moving bus and jumped off. I do not know what happened for the next few moments, except that I could hear the conductor of the bus, accusing me of having a free trip on the bus. But my mind was not in a state to think about that. All I could think was why did I do such a foolish thing. Jumping off a moving bus! That could have killed me. And what was the great purpose of giving the bus fare to the blind man as a result of which I would now have to walk all the way home! I definitely could not work out why did my appendages behaved so unpredictably at that time. Walking down on the way home, I tried to regain control over my nervous system yet all I could do was feel sorry. Yes, feel sorry. Sorry not for me. Sorry not for the girl. Sorry for the blind man. Sorry for him. I felt sorry for him, because he could not see the smile of contentment that had flooded the little girl’s face then, which I had clearly seen. --- End --- :-) Chirag Mehta
6th July 1999
Pranav Lal @softhome.net
Hi, Yes, I use special software and hardware to work wiyth the computer. Basically, the software verbalises computer output via a specialised speech synthesizer and does the same for input. So, If I am in the options dialogue of Visual C++ and hit the tab key, the next option in the dialogue will be spoken. The software that I am using is called Slimware Window Bridge and you can download a demo from http://www.synthavoice.on.ca as for speech synthesizers, there are several posibilities. The best bet is the Double talk lite developed by R.C.Systems. Another option is using your sound card with additional drivers. Note: If you have a creative sound card with Text assist, then you already have the speech synthesizer. Let me know if I can help you further and this applies to all list members. All questions are welcome. Pranav home page: http://www.members.tripod.com/slimprize/index.html
6th July 1999
Pranav Lal @softhome.net
Hi, interesting. However, he could have deduced it. Felt it in the pressure of the hand, the movement of the hand etc. What I would be sorry for is the fact that he has to beg. The blind are no longer basket weavers and there are several professions opening up to them even those of the vocational variety. For instance, there is a blind car mechanic in Bombay. Unfortunately, I do not have any more data on him. Pranav home page: http://www.members.tripod.com/slimprize/index.html
