Autobiography of a handicapped child
Childhood is the most precious time of a human being's life when one is carefree, innocent, plays to his heart's content, studies and is pampered and loved. This period of life is such a memorable one that, no matter how long an individual lives he cherishes this period.
However, life for me, a handicapped child, handicapped from birth is somewhat different. My limbs do not work, my brain is slow in understanding, and reacting and, my parents instead of doting upon me like other parents, always look at me with worry and dismay.
This attitude of theirs makes me in turn feel very depressed and, so much so I even wonder why I was born at all, was it just to give trouble to my parents?
I go to school which is meant for special children like me, where we are all looked after, and taught to read and write and also some craft. Since my hands and arms do move a little though very slow I can write and work but, my legs are absolutely useless as though paralysed.
To the school and from the school I have to be carried on a chair specially designed for this purpose, as, I cannot walk at all. My brain also works slow that is why, when children of my age are in STD. VIII, I am still in STD. IV only. My handicap is well understood by me and sometimes I feel so very depressed that I wish to kill myself.
At school the teachers are very kind and considerate to all of us as, all of us have a handicap of some kind. In the midst of all depression at times when I see children who are even more handicapped than me and cannot do even as little as I can, my thanks goes to the Lord Almighty.
While at home, my unhappiness mounts when I see my younger brother studying in STD. VII, playing cricket and football.
At times I see the games they play i.e. my brother and his friends on the playground in front of my house. The way they run, they jump, they kick all this knocks me down to depths of a feeling of absolute futility of my life.
On top of it all, when I see my parents feeling
However, life for me, a handicapped child, handicapped from birth is somewhat different. My limbs do not work, my brain is slow in understanding, and reacting and, my parents instead of doting upon me like other parents, always look at me with worry and dismay.
This attitude of theirs makes me in turn feel very depressed and, so much so I even wonder why I was born at all, was it just to give trouble to my parents?
I go to school which is meant for special children like me, where we are all looked after, and taught to read and write and also some craft. Since my hands and arms do move a little though very slow I can write and work but, my legs are absolutely useless as though paralysed.
To the school and from the school I have to be carried on a chair specially designed for this purpose, as, I cannot walk at all. My brain also works slow that is why, when children of my age are in STD. VIII, I am still in STD. IV only. My handicap is well understood by me and sometimes I feel so very depressed that I wish to kill myself.
At school the teachers are very kind and considerate to all of us as, all of us have a handicap of some kind. In the midst of all depression at times when I see children who are even more handicapped than me and cannot do even as little as I can, my thanks goes to the Lord Almighty.
While at home, my unhappiness mounts when I see my younger brother studying in STD. VII, playing cricket and football.
At times I see the games they play i.e. my brother and his friends on the playground in front of my house. The way they run, they jump, they kick all this knocks me down to depths of a feeling of absolute futility of my life.
On top of it all, when I see my parents feeling