A fighter called Siddharth

Siddharth G J's mother and father are proud parents. And that's not because of his masters in economics with distinction. The 24-year-old has faced tougher tests, fought bigger bogeys and crossed higher hurdles with his indomitable fighting spirit.

Siddharth has cerebral palsy.

In medical-speak, that means an affliction caused by the cut-off of oxygen to the brain at the time of birth or early infancy. It irreversibly damages the communication between the brain and muscles, resulting in lack of coordination in muscular movements and defects in posture.

In real life, it means being considered mentally retarded, being looked down upon, and being refused admission in colleges and jobs despite an outstanding academic record.

Siddharth's battles with fate began early. He had jaundice when he was three days old, and was unconscious for three days. "As he grew, and did not show the usual landmarks in development, we knew there was something wrong. It was an extremely shocking news for us," says his mother Komala.

Some doctors in Bangalore told Komala and her husband Jayakumar that their son was 'mentally retarded.' "We knew from his responses that he was as intelligent as any other child – if not more – but that was what the doctors said."

Siddharth's early childhood was not the usual one with friends and schoolmates. For eight years, he stayed at home. A neighbour worked with a special school run by the Spastic Society of India [ Images ], and Siddharth got admission there. "The first thing they taught me was how to use a typewriter. I typed with one finger, and even today, I type with one finger. Except math, I started doing all my school work on my typewriter," says a smiling Sidhharth. His school followed a different syllabus for each student, depending on his/her ability. So, Siddharth was sent to standard II from upper kindergarten.

Sidhharth's father Jayakumar got transferred to Chennai. Siddharth now had to get used to a new school, a new environment and new challenges. "I remember I cried when we left Bangalore," he says. He studied at Vidyasagar, now a well-known school for spastic children. "It was not as big as it is now," says Siddharth. "I have no words to describe Vidyasagar's role in my son's life," says his mother.

When he finished standard VIII, the school authorities felt Siddharth should go to a regular school. Before Siddharth, they had sent just one other boy to a regular school. "I also feel disabled people should be studying in regular schools because generally other children, and even adults, are not aware of the disabled. The attitude of the public is that the disabled can't do anything. Only when more and more disabled children are integrated into regular schools will society understand us," says Sidhharth.

"Initially, it was very difficult for me. Writing, people, the workload…it was difficult to interact; I felt miserable." In his standard X board exams, Siddharth took assistance to write his answers. But the government sends people who are not proficient in math and science, and "there were times I had to dictate letter by letter," says Siddharth. That did not stop him from scoring 98 percent in his favourite subject, math. He opted for commerce, and in his standard XII board exams, scored 90 percent.

Happily ever after? Far from it, says Siddharth. "Vivekananda College, where I applied, looked at me and refused to look at my academic performance. I was very upset. I asked myself, why are these people not looking at my marks? Why are they looking at my disability?"

Siddharth's father spoke to the Vivekananda College principal, and also his teacher at Vidyasagar, Deepthi Bhatia, who is blind. "I assured the principal that he [Siddharth] would be an asset to the college," says Jayaram..

College for Siddharth was again a different experience. "Many students didn't know how to deal with disabled people like me. It is not that many of them didn't want to make friends with me. They didn't know how to approach me. As I am a shy person, I also couldn't initiate conversation."

Despite "sleeping in most of the classes," Siddharth's brilliance shone. He scored 100 percent in management accountancy and computer science – the only one in his batch to do so – with an overall 74 percent in Bcom.

Siddharth wanted to do his masters in social work from the prestigious Loyola College. "I was denied admission to the course I wanted: MSW. They decided that I would not be able to do MSW because of my disability. I was angry. How could somebody else decide for me? They refused to listen to my arguments. Luckily, I had also applied for MA in Economics. Though it was disappointing to miss out MSW, I joined the college."

He thought his struggles ended with getting a postgraduate degree with distinction. That was not to be. When he applied for jobs, people did not look at his academic record or ability; they saw only his physical disability. A family friend asked Siddharth to join his public relations agency.

"Ma'am, all those press releases you received from Prism till a month ago were written by me," Siddharth says, smiling. With his first salary, he bought a pair of shoes for his father and gave the rest of the money to his mother.

But Siddharth wanted a job on merit. "I continued applying to several places. All of them called me because of my resume. I used to perform well in the aptitude tests also but the moment they saw me at the interview panel, they would say, 'We will get back to you.'"

"Big companies like Infosys and TCS appeared satisfied with my technical knowledge in economics but they did not get back to me. They don't trust people with disability. This distrust is very, very bad," says a visibly angry Sidhharth.

At a job fair where there was a separate section for the disabled, Siddharth gave an aptitude test for ABN Amro Bank. "They were very co-operative. I passed the test."

At the interview, Siddharth spoke about himself. "They were stunned. On the spot they said you are selected. I felt damn good! They didn't tell me what my job would be but I told them I didn't want a data entry job. I told them I was looking for a research-oriented job. They were very receptive. For the first time, somebody realised my potential."

Surabhi Nikumbha, one of three on the interview panel, says, "We just listened to him [Siddharth], rather his story, for 45 minutes. We just couldn't ask a single question. All three of us were stunned. We didn't even know how to react. It was an amazing experience.

"His academic performance was exceptional, and you should see the way he answered our aptitude test. We were also impressed to find him so independent. He came on his own, did everything on his own. His department tells us that he is excellent in his work. He is an asset to us. We are proud to have him in our organisation."

Today Siddharth G J, officer trainee, ABN Amro Bank, examines import and export documents for compliance with international standards of documentation. "I am enjoying every moment of it. People at ABN Amro trust me wholeheartedly. It is just a beginning for me," says our hero. And he still writes poems. "No, they are not for publishing. They are very, very personal," he says.

"Children like him need only love, affection and encouragement; not sympathy," says his mother.

http://in.rediff.com/news/2005/mar/30spec.htm

Motherhood means concern for the whole creation

Here comes a touching story of motherliness from the animal world. This story is told by a devotee who visited a temple in the midst of a forest near Wynad, Kerala. After his temple visit when he came out he spotted a tiny squirrel sealed on the top of a lintel,  which was squeaking with fear. Its mother obviously was away and a snake was making its way to the little squirrel and was about to catch it. 

At that moment from a nearby tree, a big owl flew in, pushed aside the snake and saved the little squirrel. The owl went back to its perch, but its attention was riveted on the helpless little squirrel. The devotee was fascinated by the timely action of the owl. After some time there came the snake again to snatch the squirrel. Lo! there flew in the owl again to save the helpless squirrel.  The snake retreated and the squirrel was saved. But the snake was not in a mood to give up. It came again after a brief interval. The owl got really angry and this time flew in with the intention of doing away with the snake and saving the squirrel from its cruel fate.

The devotee was overwhelmed seeing this expression of universal motherliness between two animals, even though the squirrel was the natural prey of the owl. The danger to the little squirrel in the absence of its mother touched a deep chord in the heart of the owl and it responded to it in the most touching way. The devotee could not help comparing it with what we find among humans, these days.

If only we keep our eyes open to the natural relationships and concern ever prevalent all around us, our minds can also expand and when it is filled with love and concern for all in the universe it raises us to the level of a Universal Being and we become entitled for the blessings of the Universe.

DON'T CHANGE THE WORLD

Once upon a time, there was a king who ruled a prosperous country. One day, he went for a trip to some distant areas of his country.

When he was back to his palace, he complained that his feet were very painful, because it was the first time that he went for such a long trip, and the road that he went through was very rough and stony.

He then ordered his people to cover every road of the entire country with leather.

Definitely, this would need thousands of cows’ skin, and would cost a huge amount of money.

Then one of his wise servants dared himself to tell the king, “Why do you have to spend that unnecessary amount of money? Why don’t you just cut a little piece of leather to cover your feet?”

The king was surprised, but he later agreed to his suggestion, to make a “shoe” for himself.

There is actually a valuable lesson of life in this story: to make this world a happy place to live, you better change yourself - your heart; and not the world.

My mothers eight lies

1. This story begins when i was a child. I was born the son of a poor family. We often lacked enough food. When it  was time eat, mother often gave me her share. saying "Eat this rice, son. I am not hungry" 

That was Mother’s First Lie

2. When I was growing up, my persistent mother would fish in a river near our home.  She hoped to catch fish that would give me more nutrition than rice. She would make fish soup from those she caught.  I always had an appetite for it.  While I was eating my soup, mother would sit by my side and nibble on the small pieces of fish remaining on the bones.  My heart was touched.  When I tried to give her some of my fish, she would refuse, saying “Eat the fish, son.  I really don’t like them.”

 That was Mother’s Second Lie.

3. Then, when I was in Junior High School, to pay for my school costs, Mother would find small jobs to earn money to pay for them, and to provide for our needs.  When winter came, and I would go to bed earlier, I’d waken from my sleep to see my Mother still working on the small projects that earned the money we needed.  I’d say, “Mother, go to sleep.  It’s late. Tomorrow morning you still must go for more work.  You need to rest.”  Mother would smile and say, “Go to sleep, dear.  I’m not tired.”

 That was Mother’s Third Lie.

4. At the time of my final term in school, Mother asked for a leave from her work in order to accompany me when I took my final tests. She stood in the heat of the sun, patient as always, waiting for the bell to ring signalling that the tests were over.  Mother immediately welcomed me, pouring me a cold glass of tea that she had prepared the evening before. I would say, though, that the tea wasn’t as sweet as my Mother’s love.  Seeing her covered with persperation, I’d offer her my tea to drink.  She’d say, “Drink, son; I am not thirsty!”

 That was Mother’s Fourth Lie.

5. After my father died because of a long illness, my poor mother had to play her role as a single parent. By holding onto her only job, she paid for our needs alone. Father”s death made our life more complicated. There were no times when we had no problems.  There was a nice uncle who lived nearby who helped when he could.  Our neighbors saw that our family’s life was miserable, and suggested that mother remarry.  But she was stubbofrn and said, “I don’t need love.”

 That was Mother’s Fifth Lie.

 6. After I had finished my study and got a job, it was time for my mother to retire. But she didn’t want to.  She was persistent to go to the marketplace every morning, just to sell some vegetable to fulfill our needs. I, who worked in the other city, often sent her some money to help; but she was stubborn and wouldn’t accept the money. She even sent it back to me. She said, “I have enough money.”

 That was Mother’s Sixth Lie.

  7. After I graduated from university with my Bachelor Degree, I continued my studies to earn my Master Degree. My studies were funded by a company that had a scholarship program. The degree was from a famous university in America. After my degree, I began working for that company, receiving quite a large salary.  I intended to bring my mother to enjoy her remaining life in America . But my lovely mother didn’t want to bother her son.  She said to me. “I am not used to change. Thank you, no!”

 That was Mother’s Seventh Lie.

8. After entering old age, Mother got cancer and had to be hospitalized. Though I was miles and an ocean away, I returned home to be with my Mother.  She had an operation that left her weak. She looked so old and tired.  Even though she was, she tried to smile and show her love for me. It was clear to me that even smiling was difficult because of the pain. Her body was so ravaged by the cancer.  She was weak and thin.  I looked at my Mother with tears streaming down my cheeks.  My heart was so broken seeing her in her sad condition. But my dearest Mother, despite her impossible condition said so lovingly to me, “Don’t cry, my dear.  I am not in pain.”

 That was Mother’s Eighth Lie.