The Sound of the Piano is coming from a room nearby. it flows down the aging hall of the school building, interrupting my lessons on Braille. I have been staring at the dots wondering what is A, and which is B; for once I can imagine the frustration children have when they are learning the alphabets for the very first time.
My Tutor Ms J, who has been blind since birth, has been teaching various subjects to blind students for over 25 years. She is patient to explain how to use the Braille board. “It’s easy” she says, “you can learn it”. I am glad she can’t see the doubt and confused look on my face; I am saved by the bell, its lunch time.
She goes to the class next to hers and comforts a ten year old girl, who became blind last year. The little girl had bumped her head earlier in the morning, she still has not yet adapted to having no vision.
“She is like a baby”, says J says, “I feel so sorry for her”.
I am touched that she has the heart to feel sorry for another, when she has been the same way her whole life. Yet in a way, the little girl is a baby, born with sight, and now has to get used to living in a new world of total darkness.
She moves on to another boy to comfort him, he lay with his head on his table, raising it reluctantly and rejecting her soothing calls to go and eat something. I don’t understand Sinhala, but her soothing tone convinces me, the students, I am sure, must be reassured by such personal attention.
I walk toward the sound of the music playing. A boy not much older than my own 12yr old son was feeling his way through the rhythm of songs from Sound of music. I sit enthralled at how he plays the piano, though completely blind.
Other Children, saunter in, feeling their way through the premises without even a walking stick. Often they bump into walls or people, so they work in pairs to guide each other. The Blind leading the blind!
