My Blind-folded Experiment
“We are only as blind as we want to be” — Maya Angelou.
I have experienced something powerful last week. It was life-changing and supremely special, as I couldn’t have gathered the courage to do so in a normal social setting.
I got a chance to volunteer with ServiceSpace (Ahoy Nipun Mehta!) at an Inclusive retreat at Naimisam for 3 days. The idea was to create an immersive experience for differently-abled individuals who are change-enablers in their own fields; to bring them together and ignite a dialogue on how to institutionalize compassion in this world where they constantly have to face discrimination and indifference. I had this strong sense of non-belongingness when I started with the cohort, as I was a ‘normal’ person and my guilt conscious kicked me right in the gut as I would only be able to see through their experiences at a superficial level. Day 1 passed so, with me being my usual— to sit in a corner with my pens and my doodle book, make notes incessantly and respond structurally in bullet points when asked of my opinion.
I wouldnt lie. There have been little moments of connection, as I listened to these incredible stories, with attention and without judgement — but that’s about it. No real-time empathetic understanding.
Then came day 2. One of the simulations was to have us blindfolded for 15 minutes and we had to get our drinks during that break. As a group of 40, it was obvious that we could help ourselves only if we worked together and joined hands, quite literally. And so we did, holding each others’ hands and shoulders, stumbling over steps and carpets, guided by the masters in the group with their walking sticks— the so-called ‘blind’ people.
Something changed in me; those few minutes were my life’s most vulnerable moments, as I couldn’t use my strongest sense organ - my eyes. Yet, that exercise demanded me to let go off my guard and trust the other person unconditionally.
We did complete the simulation successfully, we all had our drinks and we got back to our seats. That’s when I took a decision — to continue to keep on my blindfolds for the rest of the day. I genuinely wanted to experience how it is to be blind, only that I grossly underestimated how much I have been dependant on my eyes. For pretty much, everything.
It began with the lunch. I couldn’t see what color my food was, I could only smell it and taste it. I chewed on little pieces of chilli as my fingers couldn’t differentiate them from the veggies, thanks to that, I almost cried during that sumptuous meal. I struggled to find the 2nd curry on my plate and decided it is best I eat only one of the many offerings in the buffet to avoid the never ending hide-n-seek with my fingers.
We were back to the main hall for the next sessions. For the initial few minutes, I kept on scribbling on my pad in my usual flow. Being blindfolded, it hit me that reaching to a blank paper itself was a challenge, I had to trace along the pages where my pen’s nib impressions were minimal and hint, hint - the fresh pages do not smell of ink. As I started to scribble, I realized I neither had the size-space coordination nor the alignment for my hand-writing. I gave up after struggling for a few minutes and the page looked like this. (I can’t articulate how much I cherish this page — its almost like a hidden discovery in a sea of perfect impressions!)
Needless to say, I have put aside my pen and book; The game was to work on my recall memory through my other senses, which I haven’t put to use sufficiently all these years. Recognizing people by their voice, vaguely imagining someone’s spatial position with respect to mine based on the varying sound of them talking, touching people’s hands (sometimes, inappropriately their tummies!) to seek direction and identifying friends through their hand’s temperature — everything was new.
Then came the accessibility problem. I had to use the washroom, and hell, I had no clue how to reach there, despite having used them for a day now. We don’t remember everything, right? A friend guided me to the nearest one, I was told to gauge the placement of the door and the faucet through the distance counted by the number of my foot-steps. This is where I think, things got super scary. The levels of me being vulnerable are only deepening, but guess what — I chose this and I had to respect everything that came as a package with that choice.
We came back to the sessions; I had no chance to get zoned out, I had to listen to everything with rapt attention as I can’t make notes simultaneously. I had to estimate people’s energy and excitement through the modulation of their usual tones, I had to anticipate who is sitting next to whom and who is referring to whom in a conversation. The amount of guesswork I had to do in 5 minutes was mind-boggling, and it hit me then that it is the lived reality for many of our friends.
I think it is at the end of the day, I had to give up. The cotton buds put beneath the black ribbon I wore started to irritate my eyes and within no time, I was all teary eyed. I took off the blind folds and couldn’t open my eyes for a few seconds. The fact that I had a choice to see whenever I wanted, was a privilege that only a few of us enjoy on this planet. With that gratitude, I opened my eyes.
What did I learn: To be ‘able’, one doesn’t need a perfect body. One needs the grit and the perseverance that compensates more than anything else for a ‘ dis-ability’. And to know what one goes through, one really has to step in their shoes and spend a day. That’s when one understands the struggle and becomes truly eligible to be a part of a solution that might actually help them.
The eyes are useless when the mind is blind. I think I understand this better now. Are you inspired enough to open your minds?
