In life, the most we get from people are questions. Questions are the one thing we will never run out of. Even after billions of years, when our unlimited reservoir of water begins to run out, when the sun’s never-ending light begins to fade, when the Earth’s endless lifespan begins to end, we human beings will always be filled with questions until our dying breath.
We often get so many questions, it’s difficult for us to remember them all. But for me, there’s always a few questions I know people favour when they set their sights on me. Even if they don’t ask, I know it's in their heads, in their pitying gaze, in their sympathetic smiles, in their sugar-sweet words, expressing it in the same manner as if they’re giving candy to a child.
Do you ever wish you could walk?
Do you ever wish you could be like us?
Do you ever wish for something more?
One would think that after years of being asked the same questions, they would eventually find the answer. I still haven’t. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m ever really searching for one. I wonder if I should be.
But right now, the only thing I’m wondering about is which TV channel will be the least mind-numbing this Saturday morning. The heat wears me down and the couch is my haven. The TV is my only source of entertainment, and it must deliver.
I flip through the channels and it’s a live sports broadcast that catches my eye. It reminds me of another question that people always define me as: does it ever bother you to watch something you can’t do? Luckily, I know the answer to this one. No, not really. After all, I doubt the people asking me can really do those things on TV either.
That being said, I don’t overly enjoy sports. But it’s that or Spanish Peppa Pig, so I’ll settle for something I can at least understand.
The first thing I see are swords clashing. I see meshed masks on bodysuited figures. It’s an unfamiliar sight because I never knew sword fighting was a sports event (Fencing. The word is fencing, I’m pretty sure.)
Then, the camera zooms out, and my eyes widen. The sight has suddenly become all too familiar.
The resting of hands on the wheels. The squeaking of metal chairs as they balance in place, each opponent trying to best the other. They live in a different world than me.
But on the other hand, I feel like I’ve been let into their world.
The screen is now fully zoomed out and I can see it clearly. Two men in wheelchairs, swords up, ready to fight again. Ready to win, because that’s the only thing that matters. Not how they’re winning, not how they’re playing the game.
The crowd roars with cheers and disappointment. But there’s no pity. Not a single person cares that the two stars in the center are not standing up on their own two feet. Nobody cares that they’re not running, not jumping over fences, not putting on a show that people usually want to see. These people are here to watch the game.
This is their everyday life, and the two people in the wheelchairs are part of it.
Everyday life. Because in the end, that’s all it is for me. There are so many can’ts in it. I can’t do this, I can’t join this, I can’t have these dreams. My life is accepting those can’ts, trying to find more things that I can.
What’s on this screen was supposed to be a can’t for me. But it looks like not everyone knows the difference between what’s possible and what’s not. There are people who will continue to challenge their list of can’ts until there’s nothing that they can’t do. Or at least until the things they can’t do don’t seem to matter anymore.
And there’s nothing that makes me different from them. I take that in for a second, trying to re-organize my own list, thinking about how much more I should be saying yes to. Then, I take in the game, cheering along with the crowd, watching the play-by-play.
And that’s when I know my answer.
I don’t want to know what it’s like to walk. Even now, I wouldn’t use any metaphors like “I've discovered what it’s like to be like everyone else,” or “I feel like I have functioning legs again,” because none of that is true. I still can’t walk. I will still always be different. I don’t need something more when I’m already whole the way I am.
No, my wish isn’t to walk. There’s no use wishing for what won’t come true. I want to find a success that’s mine. I want a dream that is beautiful in my world. I want to learn more about these people on the screen, see how we’re the same, and see how we’re different. I want to know what kind of person I am, and be able to reach out for the person I’m going to be, wheelchair and all. I want to fly.
And you don’t need legs to fly.
Published December 8, 2021
Written by Nithila Shyam ~ Edited by James Yan ~ Graphics created by Samridhi Verma
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