Luxuriously Blessed!

As a part of a community service from my mother’s workplace, they regularly visit a home run by nuns for the underprivileged and children with special needs .They were donating clothes, adult diapers, towels, eggs, fruits and money as a part of this programme.

It was easier to give money and most important was to give some time to make them feel wanted. This was the motto of the programme.

I silently did not agree to this till I went there!

I had been often visiting orphanages for children who have been abandoned by their parents by choice. They were all healthy and grateful.

When I visited an orphanage couple of months back I had assumed that they need my time and most essentially my personalised touch than just giving some money.

I had then bought pencils, pens, erasers, sharpeners, books, scales, toffees and neatly segregated them in pouches and handed over to each child. They were a happy bunch of 65 students.

I was all so proud of what I was doing and how I had done things; till I climbed up the stairs to the dormitory and faced these children. They sang a prayer song and said thanks to me without being duty bound. The younger ones were happy and curious to see me. Some of then ran their hands through my silky shampooed hair and touched my nose ring. The elder kids were just like me. I didn’t find any differences except for what I wore or maybe of some luxurious blessing which I had.

Suddenly this feeling crept into me. I was feeling cold and weak.

The feeling that me standing in front of them was a feel good factor for me .That one random day when I visited an orphanage .For them it was another person who gave charity, the only feeling which made them feel that they were less important. My pleasure was to stand in front of them as someone who did charity for their living. I totally felt that every day, minute and second it was instilled and they were labelled as “Orphans” every time an exotic specimen like me visited them.

I never wanted to give myself that sadistic pleasure again. I continue to support the orphanage but never faced the kids again.

This visit was not planned. It was the first time or maybe the second time I was visiting a home for children with special needs. They were not all children but adults too.

I don’t think I needed any preparation or sometimes most of us prefer to ignore certain thoughts.

Ignorance is bliss.

I walked in as the youngest in a crowd of 20 of my mother’s colleagues. There were men and women amongst them and many known faces as well.

I was facing reality.

I was dismayed by what I saw. There was a smell that surrounded; one of a pleasant chapel and second of some strong disinfectant and a room full of noisy people.

I was honestly confused and bewildered at what I saw and the thoughts that crept into me. I felt like a heavy rock was tied to my heart and I was sinking. I wanted to hide my feelings. I stepped into the next room. There were only two babies in that room. They couldn’t speak or walk.

I struggled hard to hide what I was feeling. Tears rolling uncontrollably, heavy heart and dry throat. Well it was the feeling of facing reality.

I could see similar feelings on my aunt’s face and both of us explored the other rooms and the inmates.

The first room had women who had polio and difficulty walking .Some of them spoke, some didn’t. They were all dressed well; they adorned bangles and chain and were curious to see my nose ring.

One tried to touch me whereas another tried to ask me a whole lot of repetitive questions.

They sang for us. Clapped and encouraged each other. They were genuinely happy and proud of each other. There was no tinge of jealousy or concern of a self image.

We saw a little angel. She was 2 yrs old. Could not walk or talk but she was so expressive and intelligent. She could understand everything we spoke. She kissed me on my cheeks. Little “Anna Kutty”Her parents died in an accident and was later left under the care of her mother’s sister. When she got married annakutty couldn’t live with them anymore.

The next room had a bunch of children who could not walk. They sat on plastic chairs with their potty bowl attached on the chairs. They sat there all day.

They were aged between 9 and 41.It was hard to realise the age. They all behaved like babies. No inhibitions or pretence .Some had no expression, some laughed. Some recognised my mother from the last visit and hugged her tight. One of them sang a Christian hymn which meant that she did not have words to explain the gratitude she has to God. Well, have we thanked him enough yet?

They didn’t differentiate us they hugged the men and woman and didn’t see any difference.

We were offered hot cups of tea and fruits from their garden by the warm and pleasant sisters.

They had around 65 inmates and less than 10 nuns to take care .They were all bathed cleaned and fed every day by these nuns. They had to see to it that they are comfortable and not in any pain. They had to clean the sheets, urine and faeces.

They had to remember the date of their monthly period and cater to all their physical needs and yet Smile always .There was no sign of sorrow, difficulty or complain. There was only compassion and humanity.

After tea we visited the boys’ home. There were only 8 children and one sister to take care of them all.

There was a little baby .He looked nothing more than a couple of months to me but he was

2 and half years old. He wouldn’t grow. There were 14 yr old the size of 5 year old. He was deaf, dumb and couldn’t walk.

There was little “alen” who had a small head and had a hyperactivity disorder. He wanted my mother to carry him all the while.

The girls wanted me to come back. They promised they would remember me the next time I come.

One of them asked me that if I don’t come at all, who they are supposed to ask for me.

Then I promised to come and if at all I don’t then they could ask my mother....

I have come in terms with the fact that these people need my time more than anything else.

And I promise to visit them again.....