Breaking News:

The burden of crippled life

Ahmed Bulbul Islam : Reena, my younger sister was born crippled. Her right hand was very thin, deformed without any strength. Hardly she could move or grab anything. When mom came from hospital with my baby sister wrapped in a pink towel, was in tears. My dad was also looked sad, a faraway look in his eyes, a mournful face with an empty, vacant stare full of grief. It was eighteen years ago. Mom took a great deal of trouble to make her fit to her fate. Now my sister Reena is a very beautiful girl of eighteen with an egg-shaped face with a bunch of thick, curly, bushy, auburn hair. She is very restless of active habits. She is a college student now. Mom taught her to do things by her left hand. Now she could use her left hand with ease like everyone's right hand. But often when she was alone, I found her staring at her thin, crippled right hand with a sad melancholic face. Mom told everybody not to mention about the state of her fate. Once she was desperately trying to lift a full big bucket of water. I took alert and ran to her to help. But she refused. I told her, "Reena, never mind, I am your other hand, why don't you tell me?" --'I don't need anybody's help, mind it." She said in angry face. ---"Reena, you are too conscious about your physical problem," I said. ---"That's what one should be," she answered in annoyance. Mom taught her to take her food with her own hand even with a spork. Now she can eat fishes easily brushing aside the fish-bones. Mom patiently, slowly, bit by bit helped her to improve her handwriting. Her handwriting was nice and good. She also wrote a good hand both in English and Bengali. My dad was a banker by profession. He was apt in painting. Naturally he made Reena enthusiast about painting. From her childhood he taught Reena how to draw pictures. Gradually Reena developed interest in painting. However, she had been painting regularly from then. Dad used to say, "Reena, colours, light or shade has its own rhythm, voice and beauty. A painter's job is to discover it." Yesterday night she painted a picture of a girl but missing a hand right from the shoulder with a sad look in her eyes. She named the picture-- 'mockery. Father came back from office a bit late. He entered into Reena's room and saw the picture with a utter shock. "Reena," called dad, "why have you painted this picture of the girl with a sad look ! I do understand you, if I am not mistaken ; you have to spill out the venom in your heart. God is good, you know, but we don't know the Will of God or His deeds of purpose and beyond." He added. "Have you seen the aged beggar missing two legs from upper things on the pavement on the way to your college rolling in the dust in all summer long and in the mud in rainy season? I suppose, you are lucky enough than those of millions who are deaf, dumb or blind, aren't you ?" Dad was speaking in a tone of unusual deep sadness. Reena felt ashamed. She snapped dad's neck with her only good hand. She said, "Dad, I try not to let loose the quivering sparrow in me fighting for last breath. And I feel a sleeping serpent in me, papa. However, dad, I'm sorry, really. Please forget and forgive me. I'll never paint such a sad picture. Tomorrow I'll paint a radiant girl with sparkling eyes!" "That's o.k. my little mermaid ! Life is a joy forever beyond all misfortunes. You have to have an inner eye to look at life".