This blogpost is written by Anandhi Viswanathan, who is currently working with the Centre for Internet and Society in Bangalore. This is the first guest post by Anandhi and the second guest blogpost on Eyeway.
Please note that Eyeway's Blog entries reflect the opinions of the author and contributors, meant to encourage debate and discussion, and not necessarily Score Foundation's official policy position. 

 

It was a perfect Saturday, quiet and peaceful. I was home, of course, spending time with some music that had been calling to me for some time. All was well in my little universe until my best friend from college decided to call.

 

“Hey,” she said in an apologetic voice, “our college friends are having a get together today evening. None of us are able to come to your place to pick you up. Can you get dropped off near our college so someone can pick you up from there?”

 

Even as I promised to check with my family, I was doubtful of anyone’s ready availability given the last minute notice. And it was just as I thought. One family member had to be at work and another had an appointment to keep and neither could reschedule. I let my friends know that I would be unable to join.

 

“We’ll miss you”, they said before getting on with the party.

 

I missed them too – the college days, those college friends, the impromptu get together, the trips down memory lanes – but most of all the freedom and independence that had defined my younger days when I had been able to go where I chose without waiting for a friend or family to escort me around. But a rare eye condition called retinitis pigmentosa had changed everything.

 

RP is a congenital condition that leads to progressive loss of vision. Diagnosed in my late teens, the condition left me totally blind by my early twenties. This late blindness made me completely dependent on people around me for every requirement. Suddenly translocated from a sighted world to blindness, I had to reacquaint myself with everything without using sight, which was extremely challenging. But what impacted me to the greatest degree was perhaps the loss of independent mobility.

 

My family and friends did all they could to help me to move around. If it was a get together of any kind, someone would invariably pick me up and drop me home. If a friend couldn’t make it, my family rescheduled appointments to escort me to my destination and back. The issue was that it was not always possible to reschedule appointments or for someone to pick me up or drop me back so my participation depended on the convenience of others. And then there was the overwhelming feeling of being dependent that was taking a toll on my self esteem and self confidence.

 

The solution to the issue was simple – using the white cane. The cane would enable me to start moving about without needing to be escorted by a sighted guide. The difficulty however, was purely psychological – the unwillingness to accept my current disability and the fear of being labelled as such by the society at large. Some of my family accepted the necessity, others were shattered by the turn of events. Some of my friends were encouraging, most others did not want to be seen with a person with a white cane.

 

Ultimately, it was my drive for independence that decided in favour of the white cane. I thought it was more important to regain my ability to move around on my own than try to fit into the moulds that people created for me. It was the realisation that I was blind regardless of whether or not I used the white cane, but the cane was a sign of my independence instead of my disability that decided in its favour.

 

A whole new world of possibilities opened up for me when I began going out using the cane. It was one of the toughest skills to learn but a most liberating one too. I still need help: to cross roads, to read shop signs, to read bus numbers and to identify places. But these activities can be accomplished with the help of passers-by and do not require a permanent escort.

 

My new found skill not only helped my confidence to reassert itself, but also gave the people around me confidence in my abilities. And more importantly, it gave me the power to take charge of my life.

 

Anandhi Viswanathan is based out of Bangalore and can be reached at inbox.anandhi@gmail.com.