To the people,
Who try to hurt me and my other people in our society
We are stared at as we take a stroll down the street. Everyone looks at my sister and feels sorry for her because they know that she has a difficult life. They don’t live it. But they just know it.
We have been just like any other pair of siblings. We mock each other. We beat each other. I even eat half of her favourite dark chocolate before she gets to know about it. But one day we’re apart and something seems amiss. No, it’s not the love and kisses. It’s the uneasiness that crawls through my hand for not having hit her in a long time!
I watch her get through daily tasks. But I don’t do them for her. Because, you know, one day when mom, dad and I are no longer there, she’ll have to do it herself. It’s no less than climbing a mountain for her. Or something even more challenging. But she overcomes it; and the smile that sits on her lips is priceless. I feel proud of her.
The other day she surprised me with my favourite chocolate brownie that she gets in college. I was having a bad day and there she was, sitting on her wheelchair with a brownie. Did she read my mind? Or was it Psychology doing its wonders? Either way, she knows it every time.
In school, she’d be teased around or even worse, be called a burden. She’d not give them an answer but come back home and cry. What people don’t understand is, that she has her needs and the unfortunate thing is that she needs help to fulfill those needs, which is normal. But that’s also the thing that makes her disabled.
Having a sister with special needs is like having a baby. No matter how old you are, you have to take care of them and make sure that they are okay. But it becomes monotonous at times, and there are times when mom says that she needs a break. I understand her, but I also understand my sister. Once she told me how she would love to get some time off her wheelchair.
I remember once when we went to a water park and she cheered and smiled at all of us while we swam in the pool. But I could see how she desperately wanted to get in too. So I splashed water at her. Though she said that she hated it and that her clothes got wet, but I could tell that she liked it.
You know it’s about the little things we do. The least you can do to a disabled is be all sweet and sound and treat them as if they’re a VIP. They feel more out of the space, trust me. Why can’t you just be real? Is it that difficult?
And, don’t claim to know what it is like being a disabled. Because, dear people, no wheelchair, no opinion!
The sister of a disabled