“If, suddenly, one has to be dependent on a wheelchair to make even the slightest move in life, what will they think? Will they think their life has ended? That they have no purpose? The life they thought they would have been living? The path that now lies ahead?
I had all these questions within me and around me the society that would only amplify them. The society that would not encourage me, but just pity me…
‘Wheelchair at this age…?’
‘It should be hard for you to go to the restroom, shouldn’t it?’
‘Poor, you would have achieved many things had not you ended up in a wheelchair…’
That was how I was perceived.
The next day, such questions would be asked again, and with them, the emotional turmoil would reappear. I would feel that there is no purpose in my life. Such feelings had been nailed in my brain and they would hurt me always. My unconscious would tell me that I cannot do anything. People thought they were encouraging me, but all that they did was to discourage me, time after time.
I would feel alone in the crowd. I would get depressed. And all those times, I was dejected.
Everyone has their time, that’s universal. For me, my time was running slower than ever. I would listen to music or read books to pass my time. I felt the books were closer to me than people. They would take me to another world. Although momentary, that would give me happiness.
‘Everyone is sick existentially.’ I had read this line in a book that I do not remember the name of. What I understood after the reading was, ‘If one thinks they are alright, there are two possibilities. They are either living in delusion, or they do not have any mouth to eat or rectum to excrete.’
Another line from the book read, ‘Only those are alright and happy who do not have a mouth or a rectum.’
That line made me feel that even though some people express their sympathy, they are only indulged in their selfishness. They are just there to add more fuel to the fire in the name of sympathy. And they are there to enjoy the fire.
It took me years to understand that. I had to struggle and fail before that. If I had understood this 14 years prior, maybe I would have been much happier. Maybe I would not have faced all these emotional pains that I faced. But bitter or sweet, they were all experiences. And, that is what life is.”
—
What you read just now is not a monologue of any fictional character. Prabess Sharma says this is what he felt over the past few years. Sitting inside his teashop, Chiya Station, and listening to him feels like watching an emotional movie.
He feels like he is only a character of these stories, but he also thinks he has lived multiple lives during his lifetime. “There are many stories still hidden. And during all of these ups and downs, I feel I was just portraying a tragic character of a story.”
He wished someone would give him courage during his hardest times. He was looking for someone to boost his confidence. But words of pity and sympathy were just killing him inside. And he found friends in books; they proved pivotal in healing his emotions.
Sharma is 28 years old, and he has spent 14 years of his life in a wheelchair. But he feels his actual life has started only a few months ago. He has added a new tag in his identity: Chiya Pasale, a tea shopkeeper.
—
Sharma’s Chiya Station is 100 metres away from Char Dobato intersection in Banepa, where he spends most of his time these days. Being a local, he is familiar with Banep; hence the teashop should not be anything new for him. But, the vigour and courage that he has newly found in him are what excite him these days.
Inspired by the books he read, Sharma recently participated in an entrepreneurship training programme hosted by the World Bank and Nepal Reconstruction Authority. That training ignited the flame of entrepreneurship in him.
His family and friends supported his ambitions. Having spent around two million rupees in his treatment, Sharma arranged half a million rupees for his venture from his friends and relatives.
Because Sharma has designed the interior of the cafe on his own, it is friendly to differently-abled people. He has used old tyres and glass panels as tables, and bamboos are used to make the walls of the café. And, with matka chiya, tea served in small clay pots, as the highlight of the place, the café also has other foods on its menu.
If this venture goes successful, Sharma will move forward with his plan of expanding his franchise to other cities.
—
Fourteen years ago, when Sharma was one of the brightest students in his class, he has dreamed of joining the army. But his dream soon went astray. He started feeling sick out of the blue. He used to puke and have cramps frequently. One day, he started sweating a lot and later his body got ‘paralysed’ below the neck. The cause could not be identified easily. A tumour was diagnosed in his spinal cord later.
Looking at the MRI report, doctors had told the family that had Sharma been brought five months earlier, the tumour would not have grown.
But once the tumour was removed, his legs totally stopped working. He was taken to Spinal Injury and Rehabilitation Centre, just a couple of kilometres away from his home, for physiotherapy sessions. Looking at other patients with worse conditions, he used to convince himself that his condition was not that worse. But many thoughts would keep circling his mind: “What if I could never walk again? What would my friends think? I have become the weakest now, why should I live?”
He used to cry his heart out. He felt he could do nothing than that. Returning to home after six months was not easy. Everyone would just stare at him and he would feel helpless. He wanted to convince himself to be strong, but he could not.
Although he feared that he would not walk again, he made some efforts to walk with the support of a walking stick. His dream to become a military officer had already died. Remembering that day, he says, “What would be more painful than joining the funeral of your own dream?”
But life had not ended. His daily life gradually resumed. He did not leave the school despite his physical condition. However, he grew sick and tired of pity that people expressed on him. He wanted to quit school but felt he did not have alternatives. It had become a part of his life.
He wanted to play with his friends but used to have no one to even talk with. He started feeling alone in the crowd. He tried to hide his walking stick while taking photos during various festivals.
It was still hard for him to accept his reality.
—
He spent 10 years of his life like that, suppressing his feelings. But the worse was yet to come. When he was 24, his whole body got paralysed. Even the doctors were surprised to see that the tumour had reappeared.
Ten years ago, the doctors had said that Sharma had a ‘grade-one’ tumour, which could not grow back once removed; he hence was not afraid.
After six months of rehabilitation, he could again walk with the help of a stick.
Sharma was in the last semester of BBA when he had his second surgery, and he had hoped to have a job after that. But his self-confidence fell down after the rehabilitation. He was more worried than ever about his future.
—
“Till when should I survive on pity and sympathy?” he used to express his grief to his closest friends, “I think my condition will limit me to one place even before I could do something. How can I live like this?”
His friends would console him to not to lose hope, saying they were there for him. But to him, the words were meaningless.
His condition worsened again in 2017 and he could not move after that. Apparently, the tumour had grown again. Now, the doctors told him that it was almost impossible to remove it. Nevertheless, they recommended radiation therapy to treat the tumour. The therapy could better his condition, but there was not any guarantee.
It took 45 days in National Cancer Hospital to remove his tumour, and he spent three more months in the Rehabilitation Centre. Again, he became able to walk with a walking stick, go up and down the stairs. He would cook and wash his clothes.
Now, he had accepted life with a walking stick. And his hope to have a career he dreamed of had rekindled.
But, things turned sour again; his limbs stopped moving. He went to Indian Spinal Injuries Centre and Medanta Hospital in India for treatment. Conducting different medical tests, the doctors said that there was no other alternative at that moment.
Again, those were the most painful days for him. Science had done wonders for others, but it did not mean anything for him. The wheelchair was about to be his lifetime friend when he was only able to accept the walking stick. Thoughts of the past and the future had filled his mind. He would feel dizzy; he would catch chills.
And then he thought about the cruel nature of the society and the same questions that would revolve around him. He even started having suicidal thoughts. His heart was saying death, but his brain would say, “Do not be a coward; you have tolerated everything; why should you die now?”
His nights went sleepless. He had no courage to even get out of the house. He would wonder if he was living his life or just waiting to die. It was then he befriended books. He is sure he would have been depressed and indifferent, without his books.
Inspired by the books, he has now learnt that the society will not change if one cannot accept their reality. He has become an example of overcoming the fear and burden of helplessness.
—
With the ups and downs he faced in his life, he does not want to remember his past now. He does not want to feel depressed anymore.
“A life will go wasted in a corner if the heart is suppressed by a big mass of hopelessness,” he says, “One should try to do something instead of gathering sympathy by telling their story.”
But still, some of his customers ask him what life is. His favourite reply is “experience.”
Photo: Chandra Bahadur Ale
