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Tapati takes us into the world of colours of Babua, an autistic child. He’s an excellent artist, in a fascinating story, for the Special Feature. A Different Truths exclusive.

It was a blissful morning. Like any other day, Rina was sitting in the balcony looking over the compound, the Holi colours have not yet faded. A few days back people, both child and old, played Holi there; the riot of their laughter, colours of gulal…red, pink, yellow, blue, and the water sprays, are still ringing in the air. On the floor, all colours got missed up and have now taken a tinge of darkness, a black in the offing.

Everything was colourful till a there was shriek and commotion among the children. She ran out and it was her worst fear

Everything was colourful till a there was shriek and commotion among the children. She ran out and it was her worst fear; Rina ran out to pull Babua. But the child was violent, dragging a boy by his hair and punching others out. In no time parents and elders gathered while Rina managed Babua out of the mess. She could feel what had turned her child into violence, colours from playful children teasing Babua…He wanted to say something “mm, mm, ta, ta …” pointing to the crowd.  The mother could only follow: “Ma, see they are pouring water on me, but I wanted to paint with their colours”…. Nobody else would understand.

“He doesn’t have any friend what he is doing here…”

“He is grown up but does not know how to behave with others…”

“He is an abnormal child. Why did you allow him here?”

“Why can’t you take care of your sick child?”

“He can’t even talk clearly. Ridiculous!”

Thunders roared around; till now the words are hammering.  Rina cried and begged to all to release Babua, drenched in red water and tears, still fisting and throwing his legs in the air. Who is ridiculous? …The child? The parents? Or the society and the rest of the world?

***

There have been golden moments also, Rina recalled. When the principal of the school admired the painting as a cosmic play in colours

There have been golden moments also, Rina recalled. When the principal of the school admired the painting as a cosmic play in colours, she looked through the paints Babua splashed on the board. Did he know what they are talking about, “a little genius” … the teachers agreed. But on that day also tears rolled down her eyes gazing the innocent face of the boy tries to hide behind benches to avoid glares of appreciation.

He loved to play with colours, crayons were his best friends. His eyes would sparkle with a modest gift of a set of crayons; there were piles of wax colours, crayons and boxes of watercolours on his study table. He seemed to be a little grown up when he started playing with watercolours and creating plenty of new shades. Whenever in trouble, he would escape into his different world of colours.

***

When Babua was a toddler and has started walking all over with his small hands holding to the sofa and chairs, Rina and Neel would glow.

When Babua was a toddler and has started walking all over with his small hands holding to the sofa and chairs, Rina and Neel would glow. But as he completed three years, doubts were raised why he was not talking. Neel would be crawl and play with him to make him utter “papa, ma ma”, but in vain; on his fourth birthday, they took Babua to the doctor. The child was enjoying his swings on the spongy big chair and went on moving in swirls not knowing that medical tests were going on.

The doctor explained, “He is a special child but may grow immensely talented; but his speech and communications will remain impaired; with special training, he will definitely improve…”

He was explaining few scanned photos, “Look here, can you see the broken waves not able to carry signals. See the sparks of colours frequenting his brain…. Colours are beautiful, the flowers, and Nature, the sky and the rivers… the whole world is colourful but all are in a rhythm… here they are Creating unrest…”

The strokes on that day were different and brought in pitch darkness in the minds of the young parents. They left Rina and Neel speechless.

The strokes on that day were different and brought in pitch darkness in the minds of the young parents. They left Rina and Neel speechless. But looking at the boy in his cheerful mood and the caring eyes of the doctor, they gathered strength to hold their tears and left towards a new direction. Now they know why the child loved painting behind closed doors.

 

PC: Autism Painting – Autism by Samadhi Rajakarunanayake

***

That day was the happiest day for Rina and Neel. They visited an exhibition where the Society for Special Children was showing handworks created by the special children.

“We felt that these artists and their works need to be given a platform because they are different. We have created this art exhibition and something different that needs to be valued…,” said the founder director.

Babua was standing beside his canvas glowing with a bright smile and occasionally throwing friendly gestures towards his friends

Babua was standing beside his canvas glowing with a bright smile and occasionally throwing friendly gestures towards his friends, artists of all ages. There were jewelry, bags and other handicrafts created by many. But when people admired Babua as an artist, the parent’s happiness knew no bound.

Rina and Neel today joined the group of happy parents and the staff of the society who worked to improve the quality of children with autism and optimise their strength.  They are special in the true sense; each one of them is truly unique and especially talented children of the society. They are children suffering from autism, not to be discriminated, not to be treated exclusively but inclusively.

Photos from the Internet


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1 Comment
  1. Wingedream 1 month ago
    Reply

    You helped me understand an autistic child a little better.courage,compassion and tolerance may always be bestowed on the parents,care givers and most of all a happy life for all autists.

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