SHORT STORY INSPIRED BY MY HUSBANDS VISIT TO INDIA WITH HIS JOB

MEDCIN OF THE SHADOW AND THE FIRST MOON

By Fiona Cummings

Hello, my name is Aadi Aadhira, which means the first and most important and the moon. My Father, is called Vaidyanaath, this means master of medicines, well this name is not true sadly, as I am blind and he can’t help me and he couldn’t help my poor sad Mother either. She was called Chaaya, this means shadow and I truly hope she is my shadow and follows me through this life of challenges in which I am determined to overcome and successfully achieve my ambitions of becoming heavily involved with the politics of India. I live with my Grandmother, who ironically, is named Chashmum, meaning My eyes, and bless her wisdom, indeed she is just her namesake.

I go to a school called Sri Rakum School for the Blind, named after the founder. It specializes in studies in which I attend, but sadly, not my vocational interests for the future. I love reading English and historical books, of course in Braille and I have been fortunate enough to meet with an international representative from Grate Brittan, who came to our school to give a talk on life for blind people in the UK. He achieved so much and I really was inspired towards him. He showed me at my young age of eleven to read Braille and broaden my future. I want to live when I am older, as far from the slums as I do now, but be able to help those I leave behind to achieve respect in life!

At our school, we have a Goshala which is a cow shed with thirty cows and calves, that has been donated by the public. I work in there and I also work at school, helping the younger children to read and write Braille. I try to make their daily life happier as a lot of them, come from backgrounds of alcohol abuse and painful poverty. At my school there are children who have life stories of such misfortune and it is my role as a sixteen year old, to tell them, they are worth so much more.  

 

The school's curriculum focuses on the acquisition of life skills as many extracurricular activities like, karate, Yoga, music, dance and fine arts and crafts are encouraged. The school has a computer training center equipped with screen-reading software to assist and enable the visually impaired to work with computers.

 

I live with my Grandmother, as my Mother died when I was only two. I have never been told directly, but overhearing and learning about how people’s minds work, I think I am  right in the thoughts that my Mother, could not live with the thought she had brought into the world a blind baby for the family. If only she stayed alive for me? She would see how much I am learning and how one day; I will earn money for the health of our family.

 

My Grandmother, cannot qualify for, Seva, the pension given to women over the age of 65, because she looks after me and that pension, states that the person claiming, and should not have any dependents. To qualify, you also must live in a slum, and we do. But because of me, she gets no money, because of me, she can’t claim for the free food either? This is something I would like to change when I am older, surely if she has me; she needs the money and food more? I mean, I can not earn much yet, but I am willing and I will learn as much as I am allowed to study here at our school.

I just hope my Grandmother will live long enough to see my achievements in life? She is now in her mid-sixties and her back is bowed with years of labour. Her skin is aged with the outdoor living hands shake from the crops she has planted and dug back up when the harvests are ready. She sees very little now, as she has a cataract on her right eye. My Father, who is her son, is working to try to get her help with this. I hardly see him and when I do, he cries? I hate it, my Father showing how weak he is, makes me feel very insecure. I have no one who is strong in my life, just me. My Father tells me how I look like my Mother, but I will never know what she looked like, I will never know what I, look like.

I hold my hand up in front of my eyes. I can touch my fingers and count them, I can count my fingers without touching them, but no matter how many times I flicker them in front of my dead eyes, I cannot see anything. I flicker them fast, then slow, hoping to make a difference. Nothing works.

 

My Father will visit this week and bring bread and spices for us. He will need to take care of his hands as they are always cut, with the heavy stones he lifts at work.  We will fill the jugs of water to bathe his wounds and when he has left, we shall have enough food to last until his next visit.

At least at school, I get food, leaving my Grandmother with her rations.

 

I walk to school every day, across the baron makeshift roads. My aunt meets me half a mile from my house and walks me part of the way, then a friend of my Father walks me for two miles, but for this to happen, I have to leave very early in the morning, as my Fathers friend needs to get to work by seven. Then I meet with my best friend who can see enough to get us safely the rest of the way. If he is ever ill, his older sister meets with me.

Our people don’t have the money, but we have the love and support.

 

Copyright Fiona Cummings 2015