Pray, do not find fault with the person
Who limps or stumbles along the road
Unless you have worn the shoes he wears
Or struggled beneath his load

Don't sneer at the person who's down today
Unless you have felt the blow
That caused him to stumble and fall
And felt the shame only the fallen know

Don't be harsh with the person who sins
Or pelt him with word or stone
Unless you are sure, yes, doubly sure
That you have no sins of your own.

One day, I decided to become someone else. I wanted to experience what it feels like not to be
yourself, not to be healthy and normal. I decided to emulate a day in the life of a mute person.
It started out okay. My friends sighed with relief because they did not have to listen to me. My teachers were quite happy because I wasn't constantly interrupting them with questions.
I could only mime to show my friend that I loved her new shoes. Then I went shopping. That promised to be a fun experience.
I went to a couple of stores and tried to browse through their items. Now in India, in small shops, the over-zealous salesmen are always pestering you to buy something or the other. This is normal. This particular salesman had prepared an entire speech which he blasted onto my face. I pointed to a pair of earrings and made some kind of weird gurgling sound.
Realization struck and he understood that I couldn't speak. I saw a little pity in his eyes but I also saw a bit of the enthusiasm diminish. He yelled out the price thinking I was deaf too. I covered my ears and again made some noises, then pointed to a garment. This time he mimed the price realllllly slowly. Seeing that I wasn't interested in actually buying anything and the whole miming process was a tad too tedious, he quickly lost interest and turned away eyeing a bountiful lady.
At the next shop the lady was a bit too sympathetic. She bombarded me with sad looks all the while making clucking sounds with her tongue. All her sentences were punctuated by "You poor dear". I found this pity laden one-sided conversation very patronizing, so I left.
The next man was utterly rude. The moment he realized that I couldn't speak, which was precisely after 3 seconds, he abruptly turned away from me. His sweet charming demeanor was replaced by a disgusted look as if he had wasted his precious dialogues on someone who couldn't respond and didn't want to waste a second more. I tugged at his shirt and he turned back with an exasperated grunt and literally tried to shoo me away as if I were a mongrel. I began to actually feel the pinch.
So you can well imagine his surprise when I said "Stupid old man" on his face.

This was supposed to be a prank but it turned out to be a lesson. The indifferent salesman, the over-sympathetic lady, the annoyed (and visibly stunned) shop keeper...they showed me just how much we take our health, our abilities, our blessings for granted. And how blind (or deaf) we are to others who aren't as blessed.
I felt what it was like to be different and I saw what it meant to be different.

The only thing worse than being talked about, is not being able to talk back.

Dear God,
I was very little when I first heard of you. The mother who carried me from your arms and delivered me to this world fondly looked upon me and said, 'You are God's miracle'. My baby heart merely saw the
tenderness in her eye. I gurgled and gave her a toothless smile in acknowledgement.
My adolescent years were spent trying to fight you and then succumbing to my heart's faith.
The entire world was your creation, I was told. You, the cosmic dancer, and the universe, your eternal dance. Right from the little ant to the mighty mountain, a trembling leaf to the deep forests, the bubbling brooks to the hushed deserts, the silent
stones to the chirping birds, the sun, the moon and the stars, people - they were all fragments of your dance. You delighted in it.
'See a flower bloom', Mother said. 'Or a star twinkle. You will see Him then. Love all and be loved yourself. Be kind and the world's compassion will fill you.'
The child's heart believed all. I believed in your glory. In compassion, justice and faith.
But...the world isn't all about stars and flowers. It is about power, politics, pelf.
I don't even want to describe how your creation has been tarnished, how your vision has been destroyed and how our hope has been shredded.
Remember how the Jewish mystic Bal Shem prayed to you? He said: 'Remember, Lord, you need me just as much as I need you. If you did not exist, whom would I pray to? If I did not exist, who would do the praying?' So, listen to our prayers but don't just listen. Help us create something glorious, be someone that you can be proud of.
They say, whenever a new child is born there's hope for us yet.
With hope in my heart...
Yours forever.

If you were coming in the fall,
I would brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.

If I could see you in a year,
I would wind the months in balls,
And put them in each separate drawer
Until their time befalls.

If only centuries delayed,
I would count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's land.

But now, ignorant of the length,
Of time's uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee
That will not sate its sting.

I close my eyes and often I see
a blur, a shadow...
Of what I perceive you to be

A form overshadowed by the glow
of your spirit...
Into the river of my dreams you flow

I strain my ears to catch a sound
I hear your words...
In this game I'm bound

Look into the meaning of my stare
looking, searching...
Hope, desire, do you see it there?

I whisper to myself what I think you would say
calling out my name...
I feel your touch a thousand miles away

I don't know what to call this or why
I haven't seen you...
But you're a vision in my mind's eye

What keeps you from revealing yourself
I know, I sense it...
I'm just trying to convince the conscious self

If you hold my freedom's key
Hesitate not...
Bless me with my destiny

For we may never know if its true
If I can truly be happy...
Till the lock is turned by you

For every Adam there is an Eve
On the seventh day God didn't rest...
He created YOU and ME.