dead

 

It’s always hard trying to come to terms with it, once a person is born Death is decided we know the truth of the mortal nevertheless we cry,  grief,  tears it’s the love we give but the other can’t receive in spite knowing it all each Death we see is difficult even if its 100th   we’ve encountered.

 We ask questions beginning or with sentences ending with why as we struggle to breathe. We often weep in despair, silently: sometimes offering ourselves as the replacement because a life without them is unimaginable. A heart raging in the fire of questions with tears that hurt with the flow; later the same heart tries to console.

 And soon… It might have taken years but no matter how long it’s always too soon for Death to come.

Again tears flow but not silently lamenting the tragedy sometimes screaming but the Dead cannot hear can they?

It’s said time heals all wounds but recollections of the pain remain. A few days, months, years slip by and still, the memories of the Dead follow everywhere. Willingly or not, the place the Dead formally had in our life is or will be taken by someone else not wholly maybe, in a part.

The Dead is still missed we smile laugh, cry for no reason and visit memory lane countless times. Death is Strange, knowing your loved one is dying is Stranger. However, the truth prevails “once a person is born Death is certain” though it is for certain the most painful truth.

on the calamity caused by recent rain, flood in Nepal. It is trivial to complain in the face of death but there was no electricity yesterday hence could not post.

 

 

i am you – a page from my journal

Please stop looking at me like that your gaze stab and bleed me, it hurts so bad but I know I can’t put my thoughts into words or explain anything to you before I get all rallied up in emotions, you that can understand it all but don’t want to; you that are the society of which I am a part too.

I understand you are sad to see me in such a sorry state but are you “sad”? Isn’t it acceptable anymore for a person to fall sick; being vulnerable is what a human is I am a human seems you are don’t know or accept the sad part of reality; makes me question are you really that delusional.

You start your sympathy speech every time telling me but then pretend I am deaf for a moment and direct all you have to say to my parents don’t you know how hurt they feel for what parents wish hardship for their children.  You speak of how hard my life will be now, its ok you speak the truth but who knows of the future quit telling me my survival my fight is useless if you can’t make my faith stronger my belief in hope please don’t make me believe in darkness.

One stumble in life, an ill turn of fate was all you required to see me in a new light through a biased glass. You took all my achievements stripped me of all the respect and love I had earned, put me naked on a podium for display. Sometimes I think you waited for all this patiently, sadness in your words but do I see happiness in your eyes.

I shrink with pain the steps I force myself to walk I fall, fail yet I walk.

It’s said everything in life happens for a reason. I’ve seen none till now, wonder what will I see but I know none even you won’t speak of me with pity but you will celebrate my life and I won’t let anything come in my way to achieve what I have always set my eyes on, no matter disability or no disability. I am not perfect but who are we kidding neither are you.

Written some 5 years ago when I just struggling to accept my new identity as Srijana the girl with a “strange” walking disability.

weaving imagination

Poetry brings within its compass everything nature, weather, beasts, beauties, and every realm of imagination. Though not everyone is a Shakespeare or a Milton, I believe, everyone has a poetic mind, a penchant for rhyme and rhythm – it’s only a matter of time before it manifests in one form or the other.

Poets are the architects of beauty and melody, expressed so eloquently through their beautiful verses. A poet weaves magic and makes the world gaze and wonder. Poets have been deemed eccentric and escapists. However, the likes of William Butler Yeats, John Milton and William Shakespeare and every poet have proven that no one can portray as vivid a picture of life as they can.

 The penchant for poetry is ubiquitous and it is in built in all of us humans to imagine and to express. Robert Fulton, while sitting by the serene Hudson River, first dreamt of a steamboat whizzing off in the calm water, before chiseling his dream into steel and wood. In fact, many scientific inventions that we bring to use these days were first crafted in the heads of their creators. How different are they from the poets, then? Aren’t they too the creators of beautiful dreams that might someday be realized? A poet churns out beautiful verses in his head, an inventor equally stunning possibilities. The poet, the dreamer, the imagination points it out to the scientists and logicians, “this is the future” as they provide the blueprint for the glorious new inventions and discoveries.

The greatest poet of all is Nature. The manner in which it lifts people out of the mundane world into a glorious realm of endless possibilities, untold beauty is pure magic!

https://www.moma.org/wp/moma_learning/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/Van-Gogh.-Starry-Night-469x376.jpg

starry slice of heaven

The wind whispered sweetly into my ears as if to remind me of the drunken lull of darkness. Hark! I did. I always do. Give in to nature. Find it incomprehensible that most people do not take some time out for themselves.

For there is nothing like gazing up at the boundless sky, engulfed by a star-studded blanket; when the moon lets down her veil, revealing the beauty that can make any girl green with envy

At these times, I cannot help feeling that I am the sole creature in the universe and that the entire world is manifest just for my eyes, only for my eyes. Were it not for scrapping and scratching next door, wouldn’t it have been so much more blissful. Ah, I gather. Not everybody can marvel nature’s thousand gifts.

Suddenly, I am seized by the smell of freshly baked bread wafting up into the night air, from, who knows. Having skipped lunch, my tummy growls; but who has time to mull over such trivialities?

 I only start to contemplate again… An owl whizzes over my head. Headed home or to hunt, I reckon who knows; one more avatar of the Almighty.

The contemplative silence, its essence in emptiness, beauty in not being, and yet all-engulfing. In the midst this silence, the twinkling dots in the sky so mesmerizing, inviting me to play dots and dashes. I dappled here, cross up there. At this precious moment, I feel free from the chains of time. All shackles are broken: Nothing to hold me back. No bars on my thoughts. No restrictions on my imaginations.

Suddenly… a night prowler scurries across our front lawn. It rushes through the unraked leaves, its tiny feet crackling the little twigs. The noise arises me from my slumber of thoughts.

Soon and slowly, the Almighty Sun takes a peek riding high on his seven-horse chariot. The green carpet begins to glitter. As if God is running his fingers through it himself. Birds start to chirp, and flutter, creating, as if, a perfect symphony of Beethoven.

The perfect Mozart concerto!

 In the words of Laurie Lee: If ever there was blessing in the air, I see it now… in this still early day. How true these words are as this precious night gently gives way to an equally majestic day.

a lesson from Hibiscus

Image_1

White Hibiscus

 

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Red Hibiscus

IMG_20170716_134548

What do I call it? red or pale yellow Hibiscus

IMG_20170716_134913

Pink Hibiscus

 Same family, so many colors yet they are all the same, these are from my garden. Did not take a lot of work to see such pretty flowers, just a few branches to plant.You think it will die after all it has no roots just a branch stuck in soil and it does begin to wither but that is just the beginning of a new plant a rebirth you may call it and now defying death the flowers are blooming. 

more about Hibiscus

Dignified & Correct terminologies- words are powerful

Words have an immense power they can easily make or break a person. A word is very powerful and we often underestimate its power.
Of late I have been reading a lot of blogs describing people with disability as “differently able” which angers me a lot because I want to be referred to as person first not different because I have a disability. This is my opinion and opinions are not facts that can’t be proved wrong.

While addressing people with disabilities, knowingly or unknowingly, many of us use undignified and incorrect terminologies. These words will play a negative impact on both the personal and professional development of people with disabilities. This got me thinking there must be data for correct and dignified terminology, here are some I found;

 

Incorrect (out-dated, undignified ) Correct (Dignified)
  • ·         Handicapped, Disabled, Abnormal, Differently Able, special
 

Persons with Disabilities, People with Disability

 

  • ·         Normal Person, Healthy Person
Person without Disability
  • ·         Crippled, Lame, invalid
Person with Physical Disability
  • ·         Blind
Person who is Blind, Visually Impaired Person
  • ·         Deaf, Mute, tongue-tied
Person who is deaf, Person with Hearing Impairments, Person who is unable to speak, non-verbal
  • ·         Wheelchair bound, confined or restricted to a wheelchair
Person who uses a wheelchair, wheelchair user
  • ·         Crazy, Insane, Psycho, Mentally ill
Person with Psychiatric disability, emotional disorder, behavior disorder, person with mental illness
  • ·         Mentally Retarded, Retarded, Slow, Idiot, mentally defective, moron, slow, imbecile, feeble-minded, Down’s person
Person with Intellectual Disabilities
   

*THIS IS NO WAY  AN EXSUSTIVE LIST  please see

http://www.cpdusu.org/about/committee/awareness/

http://www.nfdn.org.np/advocacy-documents/dignified-terminologies-pwds.html

http://www.courts.ca.gov/partners/documents/7-terminology.pdf

http://nda.ie/Publications/Attitudes/Appropriate-Terms-to-Use-about-Disability/

http://www.onestops.info/article.php?article_id=14

http://www.miusa.org/sites/default/files/documents/resource/Respectful%20Disability%20Language.pdf

Things to remember

  • Individuals with disabilities are people!
  • Individuals with disabilities are whole people!
  • They expect to be treated with the same dignity and respect that you do.
  • Just because someone has a disability does not mean he/she is disabled.

Disability vs. Handicap

A disability is a condition caused by such things as an accident or trauma, disease, or genetics that limits a person’s vision, hearing, speech, mobility, or mental function.
A handicap is a constraint imposed upon a person, regardless of that person’s ability or disability. These constraints can be physical or attitudinal. For example, stairs and curbs are handicaps imposed on those who use wheelchairs.
Always remember that the person is not the condition. Keep all your speech person focused, not disability focused.

We live we learn but most importantly we learn for life is always changing always evolving. 

Inspirational porn

A term coined by disability right activist Stella Young, a comedian, writer, and journalist who died at the age of 32. Stella who also happened to be in a wheelchair, automatically turning her into an inspiration for all of the humanity. As the society has a habit of labeling people with disability especially visible disability into “inspiration”.

There is hardly a day that passes without seeing an “inspirational post” on social media whether it be a person on stilts running, someone painting with no hands, surfing without legs or any of its variations with words like, “if he can do it so can you or the only disability in life is a bad attitude”.
Would you be inspired by a convicted murderer or by an image of a Paralympics champion certainly the second option sounds more tempting but what would you do when they are the same person, Oscar Pistorius a Paralympics champion and a convicted murderer? To celebrate and call someone an inspiration just for breathing and staying alive since they are living with a disability is wrong on so many levels without actually knowing about the person. Implying that disability is a sorry state to be in, teaching the already marginalized group that only mediocrity is expected of them they need no achievements to be celebrated for their image already is.

The society has reserved a role for the person with a disability, of inspiring humankind and has unknown to us enforcing it with every passing day. One of the evilest man to have lived Dr. Joseph Goebbels has said, “Repeat a lie a thousand times and it becomes the truth”. Unfortunately for us, there is more truth in the statement than what we would like to be, we live in a world whereby different means of diffusion of thought exists and it has become ok to objectify one group of people for the benefit of another group. “You are inspiration” a person with the disability has heard this several times young or old all because we believe in a lie that living with the disability makes you exceptional, it does not.
Inspiration porn is when people with disability are called inspirational or brave for doing all the things that the majority of the world does, objectifying disabled people. It’s a problem because it assumes that anyone with a disability must have it so much worse. Using the image of a person with a disability to make the ‘able’ feel good about them, to motivate to work hard, exercise or whatever, except disabled people aren’t objects; they are people. Normalizing disability through greater inclusion and repetition of the positive image in the media may be the answer to be seen as equal but different. Learn to celebrate accomplishments and talent because life revolves around living, not around disability.

 

Who am i?

A thread of memory

Since the time I remember the “big red tree” was always there, where the gate to my house should have been. Those were nicer times of bamboo fences that automatically adjusted itself to the growing width of the tree. Eyes of the childhood I just saw the blossoming red flowers of the tree hence the name.

I studied in a boarding school from the early years of my education. When I came home for a holiday, the first thing I did was hide behind the “big red tree” and send my father to tell mother I hadn’t come home though I always revealed myself by my giggles however I always have and will believe it did baffle her a little bit at least. This was my only activity with the “big red tree”. My innocent heart believed the tree was the beginning of my world where even though just for a few days I would be pampered and the evil “homework” would not dare enter or maybe it was only stability I sought.

Every time I had a visit home I noticed it had changed. No! It didn’t grow bigger or taller just that majestic redness had increased. The flowers bloomed all year-long; more in my presence I always assumed, celebrating my homecoming. I never knew the actual name of the tree, neither did I try to find out; nor do I know it now.

During one of my winter holidays a serious conversation among the adults stirred up, the tree’s branch would eventually touch the electricity wire propped up on the poles near it; which I now know is dangerous but back then it was just some adult hocus-pocus.

Cutting said one will help induce the tree to grow more beautifully, “we all eat lies when our hearts are hungry”; hence the grown-up decision was made to cut it the next day.

The day dawned and unlike other days I didn’t go out to play; did anyone notice I think not. I just closed myself in a room from where I could hear the commotion but not see the “big red tree” hurt. Every thud on it trunk was silenced by the raised volume of the TV; “Tom and Jerry” failed to entice a smile as I bawled my eyes out.

Though I avoided seeing it all day curiosity got the better hold of me, I looked and there stood just inches of the trunk instead of my “big red tree” which never grew to show us its full majesty again.

The next time I came home a metal gate stood there and the game of “hide and seek” just abruptly stopped.

A version of this article appears in print on May 24, 2017 of The Himalayan Times.

a version of this can be read at  Beyond Words

 

image courtesy of  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delonix_regia