Re: [Ai] Blind Relief Associations Diwali Mela: Blind students light up Diwali for Delhi’s residents
Dear Pradeep, I am chirag and meaning is almost same. The light that sighted see is nothing but only a medium that acts as interface to access your goals. The Diwali mela is also a medium to reach towards our goals like showcasing our abilities, attaining happiness and social belongingness. So, tell the world that though I lost my eyesight but I got my vision. The vision of living with dignity,meaningfully and good life. On 10/15/17, avinash shahi via Ai wrote: > Pradeep Jyoti Gogoi, 24, is not comfortable with his name. The problem > , he says, is Pradeep means lamp and Jyoti means light, and he is > completely blind. > “I do not like people asking my name, which is opposite to the reality > of my life. It is darkness, not light, that defines me,” he says, as > he folds a > colourful paper into a carry bag. > http://www.hindustantimes.com/delhi-news/blind-students-light-up-diwali-for-delhi-s-residents/story-VSPo9yrygQtUfpb4eW5DqI.html > After a silence of few seconds, he speaks again. “When I tell people > my name, generally there are no more questions, no further inquiry > into my life. People > are left speechless,” says Pradeep, his face pensive. He says he > suffered from a retinal degenerative disease and lost vision at 15. > > “I cannot blame my parents for giving this name. I was not born blind. > I read , wrote, played football, saw all colours of life,” says > Pradeep sitting > at the end of a large table inside a high-ceiling hall where a multi > skill vocational training centre is run by The Blind Relief > Association, a 73-year > old non-governmental organization in Delhi. > > For Arun Kumar Lohra, 18, who lost sight at 12 , Diwali is the only > time that reminds him of a life that once was full of light. (Sanchit > Khanna/HT PHOTO) > > The ground floor of the multi-skill training centre, divided into > different sections, has hundreds of big plastic baskets filled with > candles, paper products, > cloth accessories made by the blind and visually impaired. And they > are selling like hot cakes at the Diwali Bazaar, one of the city’s > most famous festival > markets, organised at the Blind Relief Association’s campus. > > There are about 30 youngsters at the paper products training section, > both boys and girls, some of them wearing dark glasses; most, like > Pradeep, fully > blind, and some partially sighted. > > Diwali, the festival of light, brings a curious mix of memories and > feelings to the 400 visually impaired people—children and adults—who > live in the sprawling > 2-acre campus of The Blind Relief Association, which also runs the JPM > senior secondary school for the blind and a college that imparts a > bachelor’s degree > in special education. > > For Arun Kumar Lohra, 18, who lost sight at 12 , Diwali is the only > time that reminds him of a life that once was full of light. He says > he was in the > fifth class when one day he felt a loss of vision, and within the next > couple of days went completely blind. “Suddenly, my world turned dark. > It took me > a couple of months to come to terms with my blindness. Diwali is one > day when I wish I could get back my sight. I used to have lots of fun > with my friends, > lighting candles, bursting crackers,” says Lohra. > > “It is particularly difficult when you remember it all, the world with > all its colours,” he says. Lohra who could only study up to Class 5, > wants to be > a computer operator. > > Diwali, the festival of light, brings a curious mix of memories and > feelings to the 400 visually impaired people—children and adults—who > live in the sprawling > 2-acre campus of The Blind Relief Association. (Sanchit Khanna/HT PHOTO) > > The campus is full of the stories of blind children and youngsters > determined to reclaim their lives after the loss of vision that left > them a world without > shades, shapes and shadows, a world where the sound and touch are the > only signs of life. > > Karan Singh, 19, who lost sight when he was 3, says he wants to be a > Collector. He will be appearing for Class 12 UP Board examination in > February. He > has studied through audio CDs and will write examination with the help > of a writer. Talking of his blindness, he says that he had developed > poor vision > in his eyes and his parents took him to a doctor, a quack, at Sitapur. > > “He put some medicine in my eyes and bandaged them. My parents says > when I opened my eyes, I could not see anything. I had become blind,” > he says. Talking > of festival of light , he says , though he cannot see the light, he > can feel the gaiety and the celebrations. “At times my brother helps > me light a few > crackers, I love the rockets,” says Karan, who will be going to his > native Faizabad for Diwali. “I go alone, asking, touching and feeling > my way, though > it is humiliating at times.” > > In fact, not many students—mostly from the underprivileged sections of > society-- know the real reason for their impaired vision. Ravindra > Singh Kanwar,
[Ai] Blind Relief Associations Diwali Mela: Blind students light up Diwali for Delhi’s residents
Pradeep Jyoti Gogoi, 24, is not comfortable with his name. The problem , he says, is Pradeep means lamp and Jyoti means light, and he is completely blind. “I do not like people asking my name, which is opposite to the reality of my life. It is darkness, not light, that defines me,” he says, as he folds a colourful paper into a carry bag. http://www.hindustantimes.com/delhi-news/blind-students-light-up-diwali-for-delhi-s-residents/story-VSPo9yrygQtUfpb4eW5DqI.html After a silence of few seconds, he speaks again. “When I tell people my name, generally there are no more questions, no further inquiry into my life. People are left speechless,” says Pradeep, his face pensive. He says he suffered from a retinal degenerative disease and lost vision at 15. “I cannot blame my parents for giving this name. I was not born blind. I read , wrote, played football, saw all colours of life,” says Pradeep sitting at the end of a large table inside a high-ceiling hall where a multi skill vocational training centre is run by The Blind Relief Association, a 73-year old non-governmental organization in Delhi. For Arun Kumar Lohra, 18, who lost sight at 12 , Diwali is the only time that reminds him of a life that once was full of light. (Sanchit Khanna/HT PHOTO) The ground floor of the multi-skill training centre, divided into different sections, has hundreds of big plastic baskets filled with candles, paper products, cloth accessories made by the blind and visually impaired. And they are selling like hot cakes at the Diwali Bazaar, one of the city’s most famous festival markets, organised at the Blind Relief Association’s campus. There are about 30 youngsters at the paper products training section, both boys and girls, some of them wearing dark glasses; most, like Pradeep, fully blind, and some partially sighted. Diwali, the festival of light, brings a curious mix of memories and feelings to the 400 visually impaired people—children and adults—who live in the sprawling 2-acre campus of The Blind Relief Association, which also runs the JPM senior secondary school for the blind and a college that imparts a bachelor’s degree in special education. For Arun Kumar Lohra, 18, who lost sight at 12 , Diwali is the only time that reminds him of a life that once was full of light. He says he was in the fifth class when one day he felt a loss of vision, and within the next couple of days went completely blind. “Suddenly, my world turned dark. It took me a couple of months to come to terms with my blindness. Diwali is one day when I wish I could get back my sight. I used to have lots of fun with my friends, lighting candles, bursting crackers,” says Lohra. “It is particularly difficult when you remember it all, the world with all its colours,” he says. Lohra who could only study up to Class 5, wants to be a computer operator. Diwali, the festival of light, brings a curious mix of memories and feelings to the 400 visually impaired people—children and adults—who live in the sprawling 2-acre campus of The Blind Relief Association. (Sanchit Khanna/HT PHOTO) The campus is full of the stories of blind children and youngsters determined to reclaim their lives after the loss of vision that left them a world without shades, shapes and shadows, a world where the sound and touch are the only signs of life. Karan Singh, 19, who lost sight when he was 3, says he wants to be a Collector. He will be appearing for Class 12 UP Board examination in February. He has studied through audio CDs and will write examination with the help of a writer. Talking of his blindness, he says that he had developed poor vision in his eyes and his parents took him to a doctor, a quack, at Sitapur. “He put some medicine in my eyes and bandaged them. My parents says when I opened my eyes, I could not see anything. I had become blind,” he says. Talking of festival of light , he says , though he cannot see the light, he can feel the gaiety and the celebrations. “At times my brother helps me light a few crackers, I love the rockets,” says Karan, who will be going to his native Faizabad for Diwali. “I go alone, asking, touching and feeling my way, though it is humiliating at times.” In fact, not many students—mostly from the underprivileged sections of society-- know the real reason for their impaired vision. Ravindra Singh Kanwar, 19, from Koriya district in Chhattisgarh, says he developed cataract at the age of 10 . His parents took him to a doctor in Janakpur village . “ Doctor told us that I had cataract , which could not be treated because it was too late,” says Ravindra, who has studied up to Class 10. Vandana Gupta 18, from Vanarasi, does not know how she became blind. “ My mother told me I became severely ill at 4 and soon lost vision,” she says. She does not want to go home this Diwali because her father beats up her mother, a vegetable vendor and takes her earnings, Vandana says. Vandana Gupta 18, from Vanarasi, does not know how she became blind. (Sanchit K
