By Iniya A
This is an excerpt from my short story called Half moon – based on a woman with bipolar disorder.
There’s a woman.
A woman who isn’t me.
It can’t be.
The woman who sits on the steps of the temple well, with the water pooling around her feet, she isn’t me. She stares at the gently rippling water, and pushes aside the petals on the water. In the dim glow of the half moon, she can see enough of her reflection.
She sees herself just like she would be any other day. Just like she would be when she visits the temple with her family, and returns, laughing at her daughters fighting over the prasadam. Hair neatly combed, shawl draped around her shoulders, a dark red bindi on her forehead. Just like any other day. Except.
Except the silence where the bangles she gave away to the beggar used to tinkle on her arm. Except for the dark circle under her eyes. And except for her eyes. Her eyes are now veiled with sleepiness and tiredness. Her eyes now hold the life of two different people in them. Eyes that glaze over with the haze of the lost woman’s emotions. And somewhere underneath, there’s the barest spark of the crazy artist’s soul. But it’s faint enough that it could just be a trick of the light.
Overhead, the clouds clear, and the moon ripples gently on the water. The woman lies down on the cold stone stairs of the well, staring at the moon.
It’s a half moon. Nobody ever notices the half moon. Our brains prefer the comfort of being able to fully fit something into a category. We look up at the sky when it’s a full moon, or we look up to see the stars when there’s no moon. But nobody looks at the half moon. Even when we do, we don’t think about the other half. Why isn’t it called half shadow? It’s not about being pessimistic, and only seeing the dark side. It’s about seeing both. When there’s two halves to it, why do we only ever acknowledge the light?
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Comprising of 650 million individuals around the world, the disabled are the world’s largest minority.
As for the rest of society, we treat them not as a minority. But as if they simply do not exist. We have eyesight, but we are blind to their struggles. We have hearing but we are deaf to their concerns. We have functioning limbs, but we refuse to walk the extra mile to help them out. We have height, but we do not want to be the bigger person.
As of 2021 there are 15 million individuals living with a disability in India.
Half moon and other stories is an anthology of short stories based on the experiences of people with disabilities. Through this book, I want to make people listen, see and walk the extra mile. I want to tell stories and create awareness on a topic that is in desperate need of respectful, change-oriented discussion, and destigmatisation.
As per the Rights for Persons With Disabilities act passed by the Indian government in 2016, there are 21 different conditions that are classified as a disability. This includes a range of conditions from physical, to mental to developmental disabilities.
I reached out and talked to 10 such people who came forward to share their stories with me. Interviewed them with the intention of not only getting to know their disability, but themselves as a person, so that I wasn’t making the mistake of defining them by their condition too. I conducted in-person and over phone interviews depending on their location. Without revealing personal information, I’ve compiled 10 such short stories of struggle and strength.
I can not possibly explain everything I’ve learnt, not even because there is so much, but because this experience has impacted me in ways that cannot be put into words. I saw stories of innocence. Of still being able to find joy in those small moments despite the big difficulties. I saw stories of love. Of people that redefined the idea of unconditional love. I saw stories of optimism. Of staring a degenerative illness in the face and still living life to the fullest. I saw stories of determination. Of building up a life for yourself when everything seems against you. I saw stories of courage. Of finding the strength to hold on to the few things that make it worth living in the midst of the many things that don’t. And through these stories and these people who I deeply respect, something hit home. A feeling that sparked an understanding more than anything else could.
And I’m hoping to share this with everyone. Because these stories deserve to be heard. Because change starts with knowledge.
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I’m Iniya, a 17 year old writer. I love reading, math and music. I also love having had this experience and all the ways it has changed me. I’m looking for a publisher to help me share it with the world. Thank you!
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A book I co-wrote with Dr. Hari
https://www.amazon.in/Street-Puppys-Indian-Religious-Wisdom/dp/9354382436
Previous stories published here:
https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2020/10/20/readers-write-in-286-the-meeting/
https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2020/01/22/readers-write-in-135-reconnect/
My blog: http://worldofiniya.wordpress.com