{"id":616,"date":"2015-05-14T18:32:00","date_gmt":"2015-05-14T18:32:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ydblog.yourdost.com\/index.php\/2015\/05\/14\/is-perception-reality\/"},"modified":"2015-11-30T09:49:19","modified_gmt":"2015-11-30T04:19:19","slug":"is-perception-reality","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/yourdost.com\/blog\/2015\/05\/is-perception-reality.html","title":{"rendered":"Is Perception Reality?"},"content":{"rendered":"<div dir=\"ltr\" style=\"text-align: left;\">\n<div>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\"><span lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"line-height: 115%;\">I still remember the happiest day of my life. It had come 7 years after being an only child on a humid July afternoon. I walked out of my 2<sup>nd<\/sup> grade class feeling extremely important and grown up (it was only the second or third week of school and I felt terribly older than the little 1<sup>st<\/sup> graders), and headed for the school gate looking for my <i>automan.<\/i><\/span> <span lang=\"EN-US\">Imagine my surprise when I saw my Dad at the gate beaming at me. His face was pink (from the heat, mostly) but glowing with joy. My heart picked up a bit when I realized what that meant- my little brother or sister had finally arrived!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<table style=\"margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;\" cellspacing=\"0\" cellpadding=\"0\" align=\"center\">\n<tbody>\n<tr>\n<td style=\"text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;\" href=\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/-Euvb3CYdLRk\/VVSTwICtmEI\/AAAAAAAAIGg\/MhfWB2s7_7k\/s1600\/perception.jpg\"><img decoding=\"async\" data-src=\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/-Euvb3CYdLRk\/VVSTwICtmEI\/AAAAAAAAIGg\/MhfWB2s7_7k\/s1600\/perception.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\" src=\"data:image\/svg+xml;base64,PHN2ZyB3aWR0aD0iMSIgaGVpZ2h0PSIxIiB4bWxucz0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMjAwMC9zdmciPjwvc3ZnPg==\" class=\"lazyload\" \/><\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<tr>\n<td style=\"text-align: center;\"><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\"><span lang=\"EN-US\">I ran to him and into his arms where he asked me if I would like to meet my baby brother. As if he had to ask! Of course I did! We made our way to the hospital. Once in the ward, I noticed the nurses moving frantically and speaking in hushed tones. I brushed it off as being someone else\u2019s problem.\u00a0<\/span>Before going inside, my Dad pulled me aside and told me that no matter what I saw, I had to stay smiling for my Mum and the baby. I agreed (why on earth would I do anything but smile?).<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">My little brother was born with a cleft lip and palate. (This happens when the developing fetus is exposed to secondary smoke, i.e., if the mother is a passive smoker. At the time of his conception, my Mum had been working at a place where most of her co-workers smoked. She hadn\u2019t known she was pregnant for around a month and that was all it took.)<\/span><\/span><br \/>\n<span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\"><br \/>\n<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<table style=\"margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;\" cellspacing=\"0\" cellpadding=\"0\" align=\"center\">\n<tbody>\n<tr>\n<td style=\"text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;\" href=\"http:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-uI86uReDVnk\/VVTZgzrtBZI\/AAAAAAAAADY\/5C3w8uVm3m0\/s1600\/IMG-20150514-WA0002%5B1%5D.jpg\"><img fetchpriority=\"high\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-uI86uReDVnk\/VVTZgzrtBZI\/AAAAAAAAADY\/5C3w8uVm3m0\/s320\/IMG-20150514-WA0002%5B1%5D.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"240\" height=\"320\" border=\"0\" \/><\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<tr>\n<td style=\"text-align: center;\">My brother after surgery. He stood strong in the hardest time of his life.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">It was hard at first, he had to undergo (and still has to undergo) surgical corrections to help correct the defect and this came with all the other problems that newborns bring home with their adorable smiles. We pulled through and everything went well for a while. We grew and in that time, welcomed another into the family. The three of us grew very close and soon enough, the little ones had to head off to school.<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">We didn\u2019t understand why he started coming back home angry or sad all the time and he wouldn\u2019t talk about it, neither would my youngest brother. It got worrisome when he broke things at home or lashed out verbally for no reason. We tried speaking to his teachers, but they said that he was a perfect gentleman in class, we tried sending him to a counselor, but he wouldn\u2019t talk. Things stayed this way for a while.<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">One day, my Mum got a call from a concerned parent who complained that my youngest brother had broken his daughter\u2019s nose in the van on the way home. We finally got the truth out of him. It turned out that people had been bullying my brother in school because he looked different, calling him names based on the shape of his nose and the scars left behind by his surgery. He was always a quiet child and he didn\u2019t fight back, which made my youngest brother step in as he believed he was \u201cprotecting\u201d him. We were horrified. All this time, these two boys were braving it out when they didn\u2019t have to.<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">Initially, we took steps like speaking about it with class teachers and some parents. We even took it up with the principal, but things didn\u2019t get better. We were told, \u201cTeachers can\u2019t be everywhere at every time. He has to learn to stand up for himself\u201d. My question was; why should he need to? Why can\u2019t we teach our children that you can\u2019t choose what you look like irrespective of what the media feeds us? That&#8217;s the biggest clich\u00e9 in the world, that you should never judge a book by its cover, is true?<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"http:\/\/yourdost.com\/?utm_source=blog&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;utm_content=14May&amp;utm_campaign=ExperienceThursday\" target=\"_blank\"><img decoding=\"async\" data-src=\"http:\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-q9LfbuubAr0\/VWcQAVl0kBI\/AAAAAAAAAHY\/fzAkHtukNFw\/s1600\/blogBanner_black%2B%25281%2529.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\" src=\"data:image\/svg+xml;base64,PHN2ZyB3aWR0aD0iMSIgaGVpZ2h0PSIxIiB4bWxucz0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMjAwMC9zdmciPjwvc3ZnPg==\" class=\"lazyload\" \/><\/a><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">This anger built up inside me as I watched him struggle with his identity, his birth defect and his inability to study at the level that everyone else did. I felt powerless as I watched him grow sadder as each day passed. A child of 8 didn\u2019t deserve such unhappiness. We gave all the support we could give, but it wasn\u2019t enough. He needed to be accepted by his peers and we didn\u2019t know how to make that happen. It was after one particularly bad fight in school that he came home and sobbing, told me that he wanted to die and he was thinking of killing himself.<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\"><span lang=\"EN-US\">\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\"><span lang=\"EN-US\">It was then that I told my parents about what he was going through and they decided that maybe a change of school would benefit him. A fresh start would probably help him put his rocky start in school behind him. And how! We shifted him from the ICSE syllabus to the IGCSE one, which has less academic pressure and more breathing room in terms of how fast a child needs to learn. The change in his behavior was phenomenal. He cheered up dramatically in the first few weeks and within a month he had put behind the trauma of his first school experience. It was amazing to see how a little love and support could bring so much happiness into someone\u2019s life. Would it actually hurt us to be kinder to the people around us? Of course it wouldn\u2019t! Think of how beautiful the world would be\u00a0<\/span>only\u00a0if \u00a0we considered the struggles the people in our lives are going through before making a decision to treat them a certain way.<\/span><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN-US\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;\">As for my baby brother, he went back to being a quiet, but happy child and he would come home and share stories of all the things he did in school with his friends. He loved his new school and after a few years, I asked him how he felt about what had happened in his first school. He looked at me and simply said, \u201cThey were kids. They didn\u2019t know how it would hurt me. They were probably playing.\u201d He wouldn\u2019t trade his second chance in for the world, but this young boy taught me so much about being gracious and forgiving and how beautiful it is to let go of those that have hurt you. He taught me that no matter what obstacles you face, there\u2019s always room for a second chance.<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I still remember the happiest day of my life. It had come 7 years after being an only child on a humid July afternoon. I walked out of my 2nd grade class feeling extremely important and grown up (it was only the second or third week of school and I felt terribly older than the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[74,38],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-616","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-loneliness","category-self-growth"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/yourdost.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/616","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/yourdost.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/yourdost.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yourdost.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yourdost.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=616"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/yourdost.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/616\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/yourdost.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=616"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yourdost.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=616"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yourdost.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=616"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}