The Braille typewriter - a wonderful creation.
My mom used to remind me over and over again, especially during the time when I felt so contented and proud of myself, she pounded into my head " Dear, many unfortunate people may not even have enough food to feed themselves, let alone to dream of doing something great. You're are lucky, and so am I, that we know we're still alive, at least"
Frankly speaking, I did not quite understand what philosophical values are present together with the words my mom told me, until the day I saw this boy. His name was Sayuti.
For the past few weeks I have been in this school, lesson after lesson I went into classes and quickly pack my things and go home when the school bell rang. Sayuti came into my attention when I received an unexpected interruption during one of my lesson, one day.
" Sir, can you please slow down your speed. I couldnt get everything you said."
" Ermm... oh yea...for sure."
The voice of this soft-spoken student had rocked my mood. For the very first time, I realised that there were somebody who actually paying their attention and listening to my English lecture. I felt good, but it was just after a split second when I tried to rewind what I had taught just a minute before, to double-check the mistakes that I mightd done. And I thought to myself, " None could have sensed any of my mistakes, if I had any."
But it was another second when embarassment striked me, infront of the whole class. Miraculously, nobody had made me felt embarassed, neither did Sayuti. The rest of the class were in their own business; clipping fingernails, reading magazines, and most of them, slept in my class. But as far as I could remember in a flash just before Sayuti raised his stick-like-skinny-hand and came in to interject my boring jet-speed lecture,- the mechanical sound of the typewriter had never halted. The intensity of the machine's hum would end with a light and sharp "Ding!", each time it had been around for about half a minute.
It was Sayuti and his braille typewriter. I knew his eyes were sunken deep into the sockets, making vision something impossible to him. Maybe because of this impairment, he had been very sharp in his hearing and I can say he had perfect sensibility at the end of his fingers. Everytime when I started my lesson, he would incline the position of his skull,facing me and as if he was "looking" at me, I knew he wasnt though. He would even nodded or simply said "yes,sir" whenever I asked for response from the class, and whats more impressive is that, everything happened together with his fingers hitting on the England-made Braille Typewriter, fast and accurate, producing some small-embossed Braille codes on that oversized Mahjong paper.
"And what if the rest of Sayuti's physically normal classmates lose their eyesights one day, and will never see anything anymore?"
This question struck my head.
Men will never really appreciate something until they're on the verge of losing it.
Sayuti was born blind. But he seemed so brave. He never wanted to miss out anything in his life.
I had an unusual feeling that had me preoccupied with for minutes.
Stood infront of the class, I heard his voice again.
"What are you waiting for, Sir?"
"ah.. Nothing....Let's get back to the text..."
As I went on with my explanation on the Sonnet18,
the vivid tapping sound of the Braille typewriter continued,
to find its way out,
and perhaps the way will never lead him to great success in life,
but I'm certain it is something called DETERMINATION and COURAGE.
I would like to dedicate this entry to my physically-impaired students, and also to all disabled schoolgirls and schoolboys around the world.
C Guevara
