“Look in the mirror Stevie, see, that is Stevie!”, the father yells at his comatose boy. The boy stares at himself in the mirror wondering who he is looking at. Is it dad? is it mom? The irony of not recognizing himself does not bother him, because it does not even occur in his mind. I saw a father and his unresponsive son in a bathroom at a local shopping mall, having this conversation today, I saw a completely different world in front of me. The mirror I was also looking at and seeing them was like a curtain to the other world they live. Little boy was probably around four, otherwise looking healthy except for his lost and expressionless eyes, opened mouth. Probably a case of severe autism or some kind of brain development issue, father a young guy in his mid forties. Our gazes met for a couple of seconds, I had nothing to offer. The boy can’t talk back, what kind of conversation would they have? I got out controlled, but my mind was numb. What is the point of creating such a world?
On the way driving back, my son was playing with my wife at the back seat of the car, I was occasionally glancing at him through the rear view mirror and looking at us all being reflected, my world. My mind kept drifting to the father and son in the shopping mall, wondering what is going on in their world at this very moment, if the boy had been fed.
If luck was rationed, we all have our potions. Sad and grateful.
Like a Dire Straits song..
There’s so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones..
Ravi Tandukar 