Festivities make everyone happy. With many such days scheduled towards the end of this month, Friday meets some special needs children to learn of their interpretation on happiness, love, light and dreams of tomorrow. By Carolina D'Souza and Ritu Raizada
For some children, happiness is a fresh canvas just waiting to be filled with dabs of colour and swirls of creativity.
For others, happiness is the dream of floating down a river of chocolate under a canopy of sugar-dusted sweet trees. Yet other children find joy in the simple form of a fresh chapatti!
But happiness is not always in things edible. It has other forms, shapes ... Happiness bounces about a room as a big, colourful ball of a child's laughter, joy rushes out as a warm embrace, dreams lead you by the hand to a small but beautiful painting, sharing is felt in a shy smile of 'thank you' ...
Friday visits some of the UAE's special needs children to see what fills them with hapiness, especially during the joyous times of Eid and Diwali.
Happiness is a play of colours
Chantal Marie Saado, 15, Filipino-Syrian, Al Noor Training Centre for Children with Special Needs
She was all dressed up in Barbie pink. Her froufrou style dress with lace and bows swished softly as she walked with a bouquet in her hands towards the special guest and honorary patron of the Centre.
Princess Haya Bint Al Hussain, wife of His Highness Shaikh Mohammad Bin Rashid Al Maktoum, Vice-President and Prime Minister of the UAE and Ruler of Dubai, leaned, accepted her floral gesture and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek.
That was the day Chantal felt like a star. It happened a while ago, but the memory transports her into a happy place - instantly.
An ebullient girl who loves to paint, sing, dance, swim, sew and watch movies, Chantal enjoys spending time in school rather than at home.
"I have many friends in school," she says, beaming.
Seated next to her is her classmate, Christopher Swaminathan, who also is being interviewed.
"C'mon Christo, say you are my best friend," she mock-threatens. He sinks a little lower into his chair, obviously embarrassed by the sudden attention.
Chantal's banter makes me laugh as she playfully shifts attention to Christo with her animated talk and ingenious knock-knock wisecracks.
She is a happy girl. Her happiness is a state of mind. It is her imagination that helps transport herself to a magical, happy world of blue flowers, butterflies, rainbows and happy, smiling faces.
"I love to paint. I am so happy I can (paint)," she says, pointing out to a watercolour landscape painting with a rainbow.
The young Down's syndrome sufferer paints objects that bring her joy. Sometimes, the canvas represents the real world as she sees it. At other times, it is an inside view of her imagination.
"I tried catching a butterfly in my garden, but it flew away so fast," she says, adding, "I saw a real rainbow once, but don't remember where. Butterflies and rainbows make me so happy."
At school, she enjoys interacting with classmates from different cultural milieus, yet she also waits eagerly for every weekend.
"I get to play with my sister Catherine (aged 11)," she says in a singsong tone.
Special occasions are important to Chantal. New clothes, sharing sweets and the tenderness of smiling faces around her make each special occasion even more so.
Earlier this year, she painted Easter eggs and gave them to her classmates and teachers. A gesture that made her "very happy".
But her happy world gets needlessly dark at times. Like when she watches television. The images that flicker on and off - of violence, hunger, starvation, trouble, rubble and weeping faces - makes her want to shut out that world.
"I don't like to see people without a home or food to eat," she says. "Or people who are fighting. I want to be the queen of Dubai; then I will have lots of money and power. I will buy food and houses, and help poor people."
Evelyn Barretto, special educator at the centre, says Saado's mother donates books, toys, food, clothing and money to charity. Often, Saado accompanies her mother on such trips.
Joy is turning wood into art Christopher Swaminathan, 14, Sri Lankan, Al Noor Training Centre for Children with Special Needs
Christopher Swaminathan is clearly a tad bored as he waits for his classmate Chantal to stop talking so he can get his turn.
He stares into space, occasionally throwing a cursory glance at Chantal, apparently disinterested in what she has to say.
Earlier, Chantal had tried to engage him with her audacious remarks. She even called him her best friend.
But Christopher wasn't impressed. He says he would rather be best friends with the big boys - like Shahjahan and Russell from the vocational training division. After all, they teach him grown-up stuff.
At 14, Christopher, like any boy his age, enjoys boy stuff. Slimy creatures that wriggle, birds of prey in flight, wrestling with his 17-year-old brother Dinesh, a rough game of basketball, PlayStation, internet chats, the exchange of science and automobile information and the raw appeal of carpentry.
Christopher, who has Down's syndrome, is happiest in the carpentry workshop among the sanding blocks, handsaws, drill presses and hammers. Here, he seems most at home.
Carpentry is tactile. It is engaging. And there is that unmistakable sense of immediacy when you work with wood. You touch it. You use a tape measure to streamline proportions. You saw, sand and shape it. You drill and hammer. You keep going until all the different pieces produce a work of art.
"I love sanding the best," he says, using his arms to gesticulate the sanding process.
His previously stolid attitude gives way to enthusiasm as he talks about what brings him joy. "I do not work on the big machines as yet, but I will be able to one day. I paint wood too," he gushes.
Carpentry is a part of vocational training and his curriculum. It is a subject he enjoys the most after science. Christopher also enjoys chatting to friends on the phone and sending e-mails to his pals.
At home, he loves spending time with his sister, Sonali, 18. "She is in college now. I am proud of her. I also like playing with my cousin, Kevin, 4. We have a lot of fun together," he says.
With Dinesh he shares a typical brotherly relationship, where they often end up in playful fisticuffs.
"We are always trying to push each other off the bed," he says.
Curiosity keeps him fired up. It makes him want to know more about the anatomy of the human body, vultures and reptiles.
"I love looking at such things. I even have an encyclopaedia," he says, proudly.
Interestingly, under the brash, boyish exterior is a person who enjoys soft music and feels at peace when he prays.
"I like listening to (American country western crooner) Jim Reeves. When I go to church, I pray so I may be healed. Especially when I have a cold or a rash. I also pray for my friends and family," he says.
For him, Christmas and his birthday are the most special times of the year. "I love the lights of the Christmas tree and the presents for my birthday. They are such happy times," he says.
Handmade items from the Al Noor Training Centre carpentry workshop are sold in order to raise awareness about the children's abilities and to cover material costs.
Painting the world chocolate
Mubarak Al Mahiri, 10, UAE national,
Dubai Centre for Special Needs
Mubarak Al Mahiri wheels himself into the office where he is to be interviewed. Big, warm smile. Bright shiny eyes.
"I am Mubarak," he says, offering a firm handshake.
Mubarak is a delightful mix of effulgence and confidence. A winning combination for any
10-year-old.
The smile that he beams when introducing himself, stays put throughout our interview.
"I am really fast on my wheelchair. Recently, I did the whole exercise round (64 metres) in 1.52 minutes," he says cheerfully.
Such exercises, I learn, are essential. Adrian, the physiotherapist at the centre, has a routine in place for the students. Mubarak's recent record - the stats he has just mentioned - is astounding.
Not being able to run around like other children doesn't bother this spina bifida sufferer. In fact, he says, "I am faster on my wheelchair."
In school his friends call him Superman. "I am really quick in what I do. I have more than 100 friends," says Mubarak, who likes attending school because of the many activities.
"I learn everything - art, painting, spelling, phonics, reading and maths. But I enjoy painting the best," he says.
His happiest painting is one that has an unmistakable flavour - and perhaps a bite of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory escapism. Talking about the painting makes him laugh heartily.
"I'm swimming in a chocolate river," he says. "The trees are made of chocolate. It is raining chocolate too! And I am eating so much chocolate and trying to finish it all!"
Apart from painting, visiting parks, playing video and PlayStation games and eating at KFC, he enjoys playing basketball. So when asked how he would like to be photographed, he replies, "Playing basketball."
We scamper off to the gymnasium where there is a mini basketball unit. Once there, Ahmed Ghazi - the physical education teacher at the centre - teaches him how to spin the basketball on his finger.
Mubarak is ecstatic. He practises spinning the ball. He tries to shoot. His smile never abates throughout the photo session.
"His family is very supportive," says Vidya Doraiswamy, senior teacher at the Centre.
Mubarak has three brothers - Mohammad, 12, Dahi, 4, and Sayeed, 5.
"I am the second one. I love it when my father takes us to Ski Dubai. I like the cold. We make snowballs and throw these at each other. We have lots of fun," he says.
Mubarak appears happy all the time and declares that nothing makes him sad. So 'happier' occasions include Eid and his birthday. "I get money, gifts and clothes. So many people come to my house," he says excitedly.
Little Mubarak wants to be a police officer. Not the martinet kind, but one who is gentle, kind and forgiving. "I will catch the bad guys and tell them to stop doing bad things. If they don't listen, I will keep trying," he says.
Happiness is meeting the Big B
Krishna Kisani, Indian, 9,
Dubai Autism Centre
During the IIFA awards this year, the IIFA ambassador, Amitabh Bachchan, dropped in at the Dubai Autism Centre and was in for a surprise when this 9-year-old autistic boy rushed forward to hug the Bollywood star, hugging and kissing him repeatedly.
Apparently, little Krishna Kisani was the only child to initially recognise and appreciate who the guest of honour was.
"Krishna has been a big fan of Mr Bachchan and had been an ardent viewer of his TV show Kaun Banega Crorepati," says his mother, Savitri. "The hugging and kissing went on for quite some time as an overwhelmed Bachchan spent time with him at the venue."
In fact, he has become quite a celebrity magnet since then. Krishna is slated to have dinner this month with Aishwarya Rai and Abhishek Bachchan, along with a few other children with special needs.
"He loves books and magazines," points out the mother. "So much so that every Friday, he is the first in the Kisani household to look at the newspapers and the magazines. He is extremely fond of Bollywood stars and also likes to see fashion images as they have a lot of colours in them."
Of course, the mother in her is clearly rattled at the very thought of taking him to a bookstore. "He gets out of control there, because he simply loves them," she says.
Come Diwali and the 9-year-old looks forward to the many gifts showered upon him by his parents.
However, what makes him the happiest is a paint and art paper.
"When he was a little over a year old, Krishna used to sit for hours and watch me paint," says Savitri.
"I am an art and craft teacher and he seems to have got art in his blood. The moment I would get up to go to the kitchen or elsewhere in the house, he would quickly crawl to the canvas, dip his fingers in the colours and start dabbing at it. I would return horrified and would get upset that he spoilt yet another canvas.
"Today, however, it is these colours and drawings that have become his best friends. He is so fond of them that I have to strike a deal with him almost every other day to finish his homework before he gets back to colouring."
Along with the mothers of seven other children with special needs, Savitri has started a voluntary group called Sai Autistic Individuals.
"We encourage the kids to make drawings and then sell them through exhibitions. The money we earn goes to help similar children. whose parents fall in a lower income bracket.
Krishna's favourite colour is purple. "Maybe that has to do with the fact that he was born on Janmashtami day," ponders his mother.
The joy of doodling
Noora Khalid,
Palestinian, 8, Manzil, Sharjah
One look at Noora Khalid and you are bound to be captivated by her cheerful demeanour, angelic face and dimpled smile.
Despite she and I being complete strangers, Noora is
extremely friendly. Her squeals of delight echo across the house as she rushes to grab a bite of whatever food she can find in the dining area.
Several giggles and much scampering around later, the autistic girl is forced to settle down in her favourite chair with her favourite toy, Barny the dinosaur.
"She is crazy about Barny and watches him with a lot of delight on television," says her mother, Reem.
"But if there is one thing that can calm down and make Noora happy it is food - especially french fries and chips. Until a few years back, she used to be a very aggressive kid who would often scream and cry
as she could not speak. Now, with speech therapy and training, she manages to tell us what she wants," she says.
The cherubic girl proudly holds her first painting that was recently exhibited in Dubai. "She loves the colour blue and adores pink flowers," says Reem.
"Give her colours and paper and she can go on drawing endlessly. With little help from her teachers, Noora made clouds, water and lots of lotuses in this artwork. But like most autism-affected kids, she likes to do a lot of craftwork, especially cutting paper in different shapes."
The bubbly 8-year-old is clearly thriving at Manzil.
"She accessorises her clothes without help and even right now, Noora is wearing matching earrings and bangles chosen by her," says her mother.
As her older siblings, Yasmeen and Abdul Aziz, take pains to help her pose for a photograph, Reem
reveals that Noora is extremely fond of her father.
She adds that - just like any family - they often go out together on excursions . Though, there are times when Noora gets difficult to manage in public, her siblings are slowly learning not to get too disturbed about it.
Perky in pink
Nuzhat Tarannum,
Bangladeshi, 9, Our Own English High School, Sharjah
Nuzhat is a very clever girl. This becomes quite apparent after spending only a few moments with her.
After several seconds of struggling with colour pencils and paper to draw a picture of her mother, Nuzhat says she is very thirsty and wants to go to her ward to drink from her waterbottle.
As she returns, she is accompanied by her mother. "I wanted to look at Ma and then draw her picture on paper," Nuzhat says with a mischievous grin.
Confident strokes on the piece of paper speak volumes about Nuzhat's approach towards life.
"Do you know, I just returned from my trip to Dhaka?" she says. "I sat in an aeroplane and went to meet so many people there."
"Do you know who my best friend is?" she quizzes me. "Her name is Dema and she is from India - actually, Kerala."
Happiness according to Nuzhat means a plentiful supply of chicken biryani and Galaxy chocolate bars.
Her doting mother, Tarannum, says she does not encourage her only child to consume too many sweets.
"She is very fond of eating, but I have to keep a check on her," she says.
Meanwhile, Nuzhat continues to draw, shuttling the pencils back and forth between her left hand and her bandaged right one, which she clearly has difficulty using.
Once she completes a sketch of her father, she lets out a loud giggle and looks at her mother.
"Ma, look I made Papa's sketch."
A student of Our Own English High School, Sharjah, Nuzhat comes to the Thalassaemic Society at Al Wasl Hospital every three weeks for treatment.
When asked what she looks forward to on Eid, Nuzhat has no hesitation replying.
"Ma gets a salwar kameez (a long shirt and loose trousers) for me every year and I love wearing it," she says.
Then, once again, it's her turn to quiz me.
"Do you know which is my favourite colour?" she asks. Before I can respond, Nuzhat blurts out the
answer, "Pink."
"See, I am wearing pink today. And so is Ma," she adds.
