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Story Time: A special person
The crowd cheered as the show came to an end. The hall echoed with loud clapping, I could easily hear words of appreciation, praises and surprised murmurs all around me. But one thing really made me think why were these people surprised? Probably because they did not expect anything like that. Probably because they never thought that some of God’s deprived children could present anything as amazing as today’s show.
But no! Calling them deprived is absolute injustice. True, they are the less fortunate ones and don’t have what most of us have; but they have been blessed with such talents and abilities that maybe none of us have.
It all started last summer with the beginning of the new year at school. Like every year, there had been new admissions in school. I had always been happy with my old close friends, and even did not have the pleasure of being introduced to the new few. Then one day, my Physics teacher decided to make me sit next to a new girl, me being one of her most loathed students! And this was the beginning of my friendship with Ambreen.
Ambreen and her family had recently shifted to Karachi. My first opinion of her was of a rude and arrogant girl, but as I got to know her better, she seemed quite the opposite. She had huge brown eyes and her peculiar way of parting her hair had always made me curious. We soon became good friends and I wanted to know more about her. I asked her about her siblings.
“I just have a-” just as the words came out of her mouth, she cut short, “- I’m an only child,” she added, avoiding eye contact with me. It seemed as though she was hiding something. I did not question.
“Amber!” I shouted at the top of my voice, “We are getting late!” I had been waiting at Ambreen’s place for 15 minutes now. Since she was new in Karachi, I had promised to show her the “city of lights”. Area 51 had been decided as our first hang out since it was my favourite. While waiting for Ambreen to get ready, I scanned through the contents of her small but interesting room. The first thing to catch my sight was a guitar. At the same moment, Ambreen came.
“Hey! You never told me you could play the guitar?” I asked, in a surprised tone. She rolled her eyes, avoiding the question. She took me by the hand and literally pushed me out of the house, and then prompted me to get into the car. I, bewildered though, did as commanded. I kept silent, thinking about my friend’s apathetic attitude, when I was jolted by a shriek.
“Eman, I left my cell-phone back home,” said Ambreen. I was about to lose my temper, when I realized that without wasting any more time we should turn back. We hadn’t gone far yet. Once back at her place, I volunteered to go up and get her cell-phone, since I was quicker, or at least that’s what I liked to believe. As I walked up to her room, I heard someone playing the guitar. The melody was so beautifully played that it drew me towards itself. I went to the room from where the sound the sound was coming, found a young boy playing the guitar. As he looked up to me, I noticed the same huge brown eyes. Just like Ambreen’s.
It could only be her brother — but Ambreen was the only child, I thought to myself. Or that’s what she told me. And why would she go around hiding her brother from me? Questions encircled my mind. But I got my answers, once I noticed the boy in front of me. She hid him, because he was different. Different from all of us. Special. More special than any of us. But you don’t go around hiding special things, you show them off? Don’t you?
Just as my fertile mind stopped working, I went out, called Ambreen inside and announced that our plan was cancelled. I took her to that room and asked her who the boy was. She hesitated at first. And then she told me he was her elder brother, Vicky. Vicky was 17 years of age. But Vicky’s mentality was that of an eight-year-old. All those times she had been so ashamed of her only brother’s handicap that she kept hiding him from me.
I sat down and listened to Vicky’s tunes. Now I was ashamed of calling the person next to me my friend. The one who had been so embarrassed to face reality. I was amazed at the immense talent the young man had. And I was amazed at the way our so called “modern” and “educated” society treated the people who were somewhat different. I decided to give Vicky what he deserved.
With much persuasion from my side, Ambreen’s parents got Vicky into a school for special children. There he is learning to read and write. He is very popular in school because of his special talent for playing the guitar.
This was the annual function at Vicky’s school. I had accompanied Ambreen and her family. Young people with so much talent had won everyone’s heart, and surprised them at the same time. These children were exactly like us, what made them different was that they were much more special. I could see Vicky smiling on the stage as he ended his performance. Tears rolled down Ambreen’s mother’s face. In the world, people like Vicky are called mentally retarded. But they are simply children in need of love.
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