Among chaos, there runs a silent angel.

Among her parents, grandparents, a little brother, toys, more broken toys, cluttered furniture, posters of gospels, vases of flowers, two aquariums,a cage of pigeons and a television set that relays cartoons, runs around a little angel oblivious to the sounds around her. She runs in her own tune and smiles the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.The smile of pure innocence. Little Godsy is two years and a half. Neither can she hear, nor can she talk. She smiles, through her lips and eyes.

Godsy

In November, Godsy will turn three. She however looks small for her age. The cochlear implant she needs for her condition  costs way more than the family can ever afford. A father who works in maintenance suffers from a condition of hypertension and cannot work most days of the month because of severe migraines. A mother who works assisting at a dental clinic spends the major fraction of her minimal salary  on taxi. A grandmother who suffered from chicken guinea years back has been left weak. A grandfather who fell of the coconut palm in 1988 struggles with walking. A little brother Godson, who will turn one tomorrow amuses the parents even when he says ‘Ta-Ta”. Among this chaos, runs around Godsy, silently, happily.

She sits cosy on her mother’s lap.After the initial five minutes she spent giggling and shying away,she points at the fish, the balls, the cartoon on the television and the toys in the room. She wants us to know with childhood pride like all kids her age, she has them all. Another five minutes and she is on the floor, running about and touching all the things she showed us. The colours of my bracelets thrill her. She gets me remove them one by and one and walks around giving one to her little brother, one to my elder boy and another to the second. She keeps none for herself and laughs joyfully at having made the boys happy. The smart age little genius that she is, knows her way about technology and prefers the Samsung S4 to the tablet her parents got her because the former was faster. Her father describes with pride how her little fingers swipe across the screen shuffling between pictures and games.

She is very, very excited.  There is a sound of happiness, she runs about with in the room.Little sounds she managed to produce was that of her excitement that even her disability could not hold back from her. She loves children. She is said to be  the most active child in church. She is a little bubble of childhood glee who communicates in her own special ways.

When Pa held the phone in front of her, she immediately placed both hands on her hips and smiled her best for the picture. You could not look at her and think she couldn’t hear the reverberations of her own excitement. For all the time I sat in her midst, I did not want to believe our sounds did not reach her.

A year and half back, a doctor made his share of money when he convinced the parents to get the little girl a hearing aid that cost them 1200 riyal omani. In their desperate attempt to give their child the gift of sound, they borrowed money to buy a Siemens hearing aid. Little did they know then that it would be of no use to their  girl whose hearing was limited to a  10percent while the machine assisted those with around 60-70 percent hearing. Cochlear implant remains the only solution.Costing fifteen lakhs in Indian Rupees, the implant can be followed up with successful speech assistance if done at the earliest. Unfortunately for the family, they do not have the money to introduce their beautiful daughter to the world of sounds.

There is a small wall hanging that reads ‘FAITH’ hung by the air conditioner. Perhaps, the reason why the parents could smile their tears away.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s