Performance poetry : #MarriageAndDiabetes
As T1Ds, there are so many annoying things we hear and the concern about getting married is one of them. Especially in a country like India, where marriage is a big deal, marriage for a T1 girl is a huge challenge.
For the June campaign at Club 1 Diabetes, #MarriageAndDiabetes, I wrote a poem. This poem is our ode to each such question that girls like us have faced and face even today. We hope it resonates with you.
As Kerri Sparling said, “My diabetes does not define me, but it does help explain me.”
I got my favorites, my girls, Madhura, Nupur and Isha to perform this with me and we had so much fun! We hope you enjoy watching it as much as we enjoyed performing it.
I was 8 when diabetes found me.
It brought along the needles and fingerpicks,
The insulin and hypo tricks.
But I wasn’t looking for it, Maa, I said.
Not a path I was willing to tread.
I was at University when diabetes and I met for the first time.
This wasn’t what I looked forward to when they said,
“You never forget your college love”.
NO ! NO! This isn’t what I had dreamt about all along.
Nobody else could be my best friend.
Early morning classes, late nights with friends, submission deadlines,
All was secondary, I HAD to give it priority over them all.
I was working, at office when diabetes showed up.
I ignored it. I had a life to live and love.
It followed me around for a year, lurking around.
Tired, I looked for a cure,
“Doctors” promised me one,
I grabbed it with both hands.
But it was still there,
I wanted it gone. But it was like a stubborn child,
Asking for space, in my head, my heart and my life
Couldn’t ignore it anymore, could I?
I was writing my CA exams when diabetes tip toed into my life.
It dropped hints of its existence. For two whole months.
It was either diabetes or my lifelong dream now.
But I was 'this' close to living it,
No no, this couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be happening.
But diabetes didn’t care, it was here to stay.
There was only room for two in the future ahead,
Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep my dream fed.
I hated it
Its guts to barge in
And dictate a new way of life.
Who did it think it was?
It demanded a lifetime of learning, adapting, changing
It was needy,
It demanded attention.
It messed up my head,
And for a while, I felt mislead.
It asked of me changes, mental and physical,
Each of them very critical.
It didn’t ask for love,
Of its presence.
With practice and persistence,
We found our middle ground,
We learnt to co-exist.
I learnt its language and strange ways
The ones that left me in a daze
Needle pricks, BG tests, food adjustments and the highs and the lows
The learning kept me on my toes,
It all became second nature.
But diabetes adjusted too
Allowing me to live
Discover parts of me I didn’t know existed,
Find my purpose,
Dream a little bigger,
Accomplish them all
And soar high
I did earn my degree
I did live my dream
I did build a life I love
So then why does society suddenly say,
I can’t be loved
I can’t get married
When I say it out loud
That I want love & a life
Full of euphoria, magic
My aspirations & dreams should be shoved, under the rug
But I have had a partner in my life all this while,
The one that will continue to be,
And it has
Allowed me to live,
And soar high.
Like a tough lover, teacher, mother
It has changed roles
Hope and dream,
Fail and succeed,
Live and thrive.
And learn to take life in my stride.
Watch our performance poetry in the video below.
One last thing...
Four type 1 diabetics from Club 1 Diabetes are about to attempt a 100km trailwalker to raise awareness for diabetes and fundraise for those in need through Oxfam. Please give generously on the link below and consider how your donation can make a difference in the lives of people in India touched by Oxfam through their goals of gender justice, education for underprivileged children, social inclusion and humanitarian response during disasters and conflicts. Your donation will also help us smash stereotypes that diabetics are limited by their medical condition, where in fact we can do just about anything.
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