Typically, families of children with special needs are on a lifetime journey that is emotionally exhausting and financially tough. Read this true story of Lallu- a special needs mother who despite her circumstances, chose to embrace her truth.
By Ms Prameela Balasundaram
Early morning 5.00 a.m.
Lallu sat on the top step of her small one-room house, on the top most floor. It had its advantages, though climbing up and down was a pain sometimes.Today as she sat on the top most step, she felt calm and at peace.
From her vantage point she could see the tops of all the houses that spread out on all four sides. She could see others still sleeping on the terrace. To make place for mattresses inside, piles of steel and aluminium vessels were shoved outside the door, along with the inevitable bags of garbage, which would be taken down each morning.
These houses were not slums.They were on the outskirts of Delhi but yet the clutter and the sad debris all around, left a longing and an ache in her heart.
The gentle rays of the early morning sun glided slowly across the rooftops and Lallu’s mind went swiftly back many years ago, when she was a little girl growing up in the little village in Himachal. How beautiful were those days she remembered now, smiling wistfully. But it had all changed within a matter of a few days.
When Lallu met her husband
He had come up the hill riding on a horse. Dressed in smart blue jeans and a pink shirt, he looked bewildered and anxious. She and Sita, her best friend who had been playing hop scotch outside her house had giggled and run inside, only to be caught by the arm and dragged inside.
“Hurry up.Hurry up”, her mother had said looking around anxiously. “You must bathe and change. The groom is here already.” Lallu remembered how surprised she was. Bathe? Change?
The word groom had not made an impact on her. Little had she known that this young man on the horse was her groom and she the bride! But what she remembered was the fun.The euphoria of being the center of attraction for once. Not her brother or her male cousins.
She was the queen of the day. So, dressed in a bright new salwar and kurta, which smelled of camphor (for it had been kept safely in her mothers huge aluminium box for just such an occasion), she was made to sit inside the room where they all slept, while the visitors were made comfortable in the larger front room.
She could hear loud male voices and slurping of tea and wondered at her mother and grandmother getting sweaty and concerned .Several women from the neighbouring houses had come in to hug her and wish her and some even said how fortunate she was.
But for her, that day ten years ago, it was sheer fun. She and her friend Sita had sat and giggled through the many comings and goings, the endless cups of tea being served and the continuous sound of voices from the main room.
It was only when she was led by her mother into the main room that she had felt a twinge of fear. But no, she just had to stand there while everyone in the room looked at her.
She had a vague idea of looking at the boy who had come riding on a horse that morning.He was smiling and his friends were clapping him on his shoulder and whispering into his ear.
Finally a large man with a huge turban nodded his head and she was ushered back. The women in this room had also looked at her, some smilingly and some questioningly, she thought. But this visit would lead to her getting married she knew and she had a vague idea of what was happening.
For this had happened to many girls in her village. But on that day and at that time, all she had thought of was that she was the center of attention. Never had this happened to her before.
It was only much much later, just before she went to sleep, that her mother had told her that the people who had come had liked her very much and that she would be married to the boy, Aditya, who was still in school in Delhi .
He was fifteen and she had been just nine years old. But though Aditya had dutifully visited her almost every year after his first visit, it was only a good six years later that the marriage had actually taken place.
Her own fathers death and financial problems of the grooms family had effectively stalled all talk of marriage until she was fifteen. But it had also given Aditya time to finish school and get a job.
He was now an earning member of the family and worked in a company that made beautiful garments for export. Sometimes he was even able to bring a gift for Lallu from the rejects. So it had been a happy life.
At least until now. Until her son was born.
A son is born
A little more than a year ago, there had been great jubilation in the family. A boy ! It was something which set off a series of celebrations and visits to temples to thank the many Gods they worshiped for this miracle of birth.
Her fate had been good she had thought because both the other daughters in law and the daughter of this family had given birth only to girls.So it was not a surprise when she was showered with gifts and pampered .
But all this soon changed as well.
It not only changed her own life but that of the whole family. She gave the baby many names “Rakesh” “Rakhu” “Rakhla”. But she and the family soon realized that little Rakhu was a very strange baby. He neither made eye contact nor did he smile and gurgle like other babies.
As he grew, they noticed that he did not develop the same way as the other babies in the family. There was something very wrong about him. It gradually dawned upon her and the family that Rakesh was never going to be normal and that all their dreams of a son, a boy, had been shattered.
People began to blame her. Many thought that she was cursed. It was fate. Who had sinned to be punished like this was the general tone of discussion. Was it her. Was it Aditya, her husband or was it little Rakesh himself ?
Most traumatic was the way the familys’ attitude toward her, had also changed. She was now expected to be the obedient bahu (daughter-in-law). Cooking and serving the rest of the family.
She was not allowed to go out of the house by herself. “In case”, as her mother in law told her very harshly, “in case you talk about Rakesh and how we have been cursed and other people see him. It will bring disgrace to our family.”
Her father in law had also added to this. “Never has something like this happened in our family” he said. “For generations we have been a respected family in our colony and now this? What will people think. What will people say.”
Lallu had at first tried to argue with them, that all that she wanted was to take the child to a doctor. But the family was adamant. What is the use they argued. Doctors cost money and besides everyone will see the boy and know that we are the cursed family!
Aditya had tried at first but had gradually given in to his mothers constant criticism and hurtful remarks. He did know that Lallu was being targeted unfairly but what could he do.
He was after all living in his parents home and the money he earned was not yet enough to make him feel that he had a say in family affairs. Maybe if he earned more than his father or brothers he thought wistfully, he could just leave and live separately. But not now. Not now, specially after Rakesh was born.
So, on this beautiful morning as Lallu sat on the top step of her house, something strange began to happen to her. Rakhu was her son, she said to herself. She was his mother. She was suddenly filled with an almost overwhelming surge of love for him.
It was a feeling she had never experienced before in her life. It was a compassionate love which was willing to give anything and sacrifice everything for Rakhu. This little helpless bundle who she had carried inside her womb for nine months. Was it not her duty to give him all that she should. To provide him with all that he should be getting for his condition now?
She stood up abruptly and she was smiling. She knew, just knew, what she should be doing. She had finally found the courage to do what she knew was right.
While she had sat reminiscing, people had begun to wake up and the sun was quite high in the sky. In the room behind her also, she heard sounds of her little son waking up. She got up then and went to stand over him and looked down at him. There he was. So tiny. So helpless and so vulnerable.
Aditya sat sipping a mug of freshly brewed tea at the little table. Both her father and mother in law also sat sipping their tea. None of them had made a move to pick up little Rakesh.
Three pairs of eyes looked at her silently. There was something strange about her today. She did not go to the little alcove in which they had set up the kitchen and start preparing breakfast for the family. She had done this every day since she had married into this family.
Instead she bent down and quickly picked up little Rakhu and walked towards the door. Her mother in law jumped up and the steel glass of tea fell with a loud clatter on to the floor. “Where are you going” she demanded loudly. “And with the baby?”
Lallu calmly collected her purse, with all the money she had and the few things she needed and turned to look at her family with a soft smile. “I am taking Rakhu to the doctor my friend told me about”, she said.
There was a shocked silence.
She walked to the door and with Rakhu held firmly, she gently shut it behind her. She walked down the steps and had almost reached the ground when she heard a noise behind her. It was Aditya.
“Lallu”, he shouted. “Wait I will come with you to the doctor.”
If you wish to contact Ms Prameela regarding any information about children with intellectual disabilities, please feel free to comment here or contact us on beingrubitah@gmail.com
Prameela Balasundaram has an MA in English Literature and Semantics. However, her childhood memories of a niece with Downs Syndrome prompted a short training in Germany which helped her to establish SAMADHAN, an NGO for children with Intellectual disabilities in 1981. She is also trained in drama therapy, leadership training and biblical counseling. She is an elected member of the AFD ( Asian Federation on Intellectual Disability), on the advisory board of the Journal, of Religion , Disability and Health (JRDH) and other organizations and has received certificates from several national and international organizations, several awards notably the World Bank and the Inclusion International. She has been published in national and international journals and presented papers at about 40 workshops and authored one book “Sunnys Story”.
Found this post useful? You might like reading these as well:
Living with a vision even without sight
What it’s like to be a working mother
Guddi Rani- the story of an Indian migrant woman
How the local supermarket came to my mental rescue
Why is it okay to be different from others
Pin and save this post
More from the blog
Easter- the greatest love story ever told
5 tips for reversing Diabetes Type 2
Healthy paneer cutlet recipe | cottage cheese croquettes with sweet potato and spinach
10 facts about sleep that you may have never known before
Two weeks into the challenge of being habitually healthy
Easy chocolate cake recipe with coffee frosting
Hi! My name is Rubitah. I’m a Content Writer certified Life Coach, Counselor, Social Work professional and the Founder of Being Rubitah. Over the years through my professional and personal life, I have realized that prayers and love can do wonders to family life once you come to terms with yourself and surrender to God. Do you relate to me? Then you may like what I post here! Read more about me
Subscribe to receive my monthly digest of the latest blog posts, special offers and announcements!
