Siddhesh K of Chitradurga. He lost his vision due to brain tumor at the age of 18, but did not lose courage. He is married to a disabled woman and is now working as an Assistant Professor in a government college.
True Motivational Stories: Siddhesh K, resident of Hireguntanur in Chitradurga district. He lost his eyesight at a young age, but he did not lose courage and faced life boldly. He is married to Sridevi, a disabled woman suffering from polio. At present, he is working as an Assistant Professor in the Government First Grade College, Gajendragarh.
Imagine for a moment, at the age of 18, when the whole world seems colorful, one day you wake up and like the lights being switched off, there is only darkness all around. And you can never turn that switch on again, the light is gone from your world forever. With this the entire world has disappeared. Because of having eyes we are able to see the world around us. Our eyes can see not only the things in front but also the distant sky. That is why among the five senses, we use eyes the most to understand the world. It is difficult for us to even imagine those dark days of Siddhesh.
But for those of us born with the gift of eyesight, losing eyesight is a terrible tragedy that we cannot even imagine. At such a difficult juncture of life, despite faltering, without breaking or losing courage, he assured not only his parents but also himself that ‘I will never be a burden on you’. Siddhesh is a wonderful person. This story of his touches the heart and opens our eyes.
I am falling from somewhere, I don’t know from where. There is darkness all around. Cold environment. Then I fell completely down, onto a soft bed; Thankfully, he was saved… The sound of someone walking was heard. The visitor said in a low voice, “You are in the recovery ward.” I asked, “What day is it today?” “Thursday.” “What time is it?” “Seven thirty.” “Morning or night?” “At night.” This means I regained consciousness after two and a half days! Three days after I lost the sight of both eyes, i.e. around ten o’clock in the morning on Tuesday, the anesthesia specialist Dr. Shivkumar, while talking to me, pricked my left hand with a needle, that’s all I remember!
Now gradually I started realizing my physical condition. There was a plastic pipe inside the head above the left ear, a plastic bag for drip and urine in the right hand. My brain tumor was operated on by a neurosurgeon named Dr. Chandramouli. All the initial tests were done before going to the operation theatre. With white clothes, a shaved head, and an artificial outlet for urine, I was ready after a twenty-four-hour fast. Mom and dad were not there. When asked by the nurse in the ward, she said, “They will come in the morning.” Then I fell asleep.
After a day or two, I was shifted to the general ward. Till then my parents could see me only from the other side of the glass wall. Seeing my son, who was completely fine till a few months ago, losing both his eyes, lying unconscious for two days, with drips and bandages, after an operation whose outcome was not known… I have no words to describe the pain of the parents at that time. Spent six-seven days in the general ward. The day before I was due to be discharged, a nurse opened the stitches that looked like hair bands from one ear to the other. Despite being asked to lie down, I stubbornly endured all this while sitting. When I asked to count, she said, “You count yourself as I cut the thread.” At last the sound of the scissors clicking stopped. Total 52!
On 18th December our journey started again towards the village. Now I was walking with the help of father’s hand. In between, I had to go to Bengaluru two-three times for treatment. The doctors of NIMHANS had now handed over the responsibility of my further checkup to Dr. Srikanth of Mallya Hospital. Suspecting that we might not be able to afford the expensive expenses of that hospital, he asked us to come to his own clinic in Jayanagar. After some tests and some treatment, what the doctor finally said to dad in front of me still rings in my ears: “We have done everything we could. It is now God’s will for your son to regain his eyesight.”
“Is there nothing else that can be done, sir?” Papa had asked in a low voice. “God is great, your son’s life has been saved. Now do whatever is necessary for his life,” saying this the doctor gave up and my treatment came to a full stop. On father’s insistence, he also visited the temple of the village goddess for a few days. Not believing in miracles, I left the task of making vows in the name of God to my family members. Meanwhile, thanks to grandmother, I got a small radio in my hands. Very soon he became my companion—to get through the dark days.
Could anything have changed?
None of the doctors who examined my eye problem in Davanagere had told me about the possibility of further blindness. Only Dr. Krishnamurthy, after seeing the CT scan report, took me to a separate X-ray room and asked me to get my chest examined. By the time all this was over it was eight o’clock at night. Despite being so late, both Vagish and Guru, who had accompanied me that day, took me to the house of neurosurgeon Dr. Shivanand. Perhaps Dr. Krishnamurthy would have sent me to the X-ray room and informed both of them about the seriousness of the problem. That’s why he must have taken me to Shivanand’s house at night itself. If any of the doctors or friends had told me about my vision loss, would anything have changed? Don’t know.