March 3rd 2627

"How are you and Nardhia doing with the Kulambas jingle?"

Hamza and I were sitting on the shaded terrace of the bungalow, eating the seedless watermelon Risma bought for us students and listening to the distant noises of Tony teaching my sister how to balance herself on a surfing board. Those two had been having fun riding the waves, or trying to, for the past few weekends now. Tony was adamant that it would help Nardhia with our creative process. He had kindly offered to lend me his board too but the thought of being swept away by the waves scared me that I declined his offer. I already had figurative waves rolling in my head and I didn't need to also deal with literal ones. Tony was at first disappointed but when I told him this would give him more private time to bond with Nardhia he smiled from ear to ear.

"Hey Nardho, I'm asking you a question!" Hamza's hands in front of my face brought me out of my dazed state. "You alright? I'm used to you being spacey by now but I just wanna be sure."

"Yeah, I'm okay, just thinking about how my twin looks happy being with her fiancé. That's good, right, them enjoying themselves instead of bickering about trivial things?" I chuckled. "And to answer your question, we do have the melody for the jingle ready to go but the lyrics are a bit harder to come by. We want them to rhyme but rhyming is hard so we're stumped."

"Don't sweat it, man!" Hamza patted my shoulder. "If it's too difficult, we can ask Rain for their input. I bet they would be happy to help. Just don't stress too much about finding inspiration. Writers get writers' block, I guess musicians get musicians' block sometimes," he shrugged. "I wonder if your girlfriend ever had an artist's block. Wait, she's still into art, right?"

"Moira is the kind of person to get inspired by everything and anything she sees and hears. Her ability to find the most random things inspiring makes me envious." I replied after biting off a big chunk of watermelon and swallowing. I was glad that with his colorless eyes Hamza couldn't see the watermelon juice dripping down my chin and onto my shirt or he would be cracking up. "I'm certain Moira can turn mundane everyday stuff, perhaps even as mundane as us chewing watermelon ravenously, into imaginative artwork. Why did you ask, though?"

"I've been talking with Alex about more ways to get the public excited about the upcoming grand opening of Kulambas sanctuary," Hamza responded as he reached into the fruit bowl for the last slice of watermelon. "He suggested we paint the exterior of the building and Izumi agreed with that suggestion. Actually, she had done a rough sketch of a scenery that might look good as a mural. According to Alex, there's only one problem with Izumi's sketch—it is black and white. We need Moira's powerful imagination to give the sketch a splash of color. Make it livelier, you know? Here, tell me what you think of Izumi's idea." Hamza dug around his backpack and pulled out a sketchbook, carefully turning it to a page he had bookmarked with a paperclip before handing it to me. "She told me it's supposed to be a picture of a family of young Kulambas floating around a colony of coral reefs and anemones while divers observe them."

"Izumi's been sketching? Wow, I didn't know she likes doing sketches!" I gaped in awe as I inspected the drawing. "She paid special attention to Gibran's lectures about sea dwellers," I pointed to the many reefs drawn on the paper. "The details are super accurate and realistic."

"I wish there's a way to turn something 2D into a 3D model in the blink of an eye," Hamza sighed. "I've made peace with the fact that I'm blind but from time to time I still feel a pang of jealousy at fully-sighted people. It's a privilege to be able to take on so much visual information just in one glance, you get what I'm saying? Me, I had to rely on my sense of touch before I'm able to imagine what an object looks like. I wonder if Izumi is ever bothered that I'm unable to truly appreciate her drawings," he folded his arms. "Alex assured me that she isn't, and yet..."

"And yet a part of you is still insecure," I completed his sentence. "Dude, if Izumi truly cares about you she would never think of you being blind as a burden. Heck, if she finds any kind of disability bothersome, why would she want to make friends with half of the people in our dormitory? You're fine, Hamza. You being disabled shouldn't affect your love life."

"I know it shouldn't. I've witnessed examples of people with disabilities being madly in love with each other. Rain finding happiness with Vannie, for instance, gives me hope. However, is it wrong for me to be questioning the extent of Izumi's feelings for me? Tell me, Nardho, if Moira becomes unable to hear your guitar, wouldn't it bother you because music is an important part of your life?" Hamza kicked the sand and a hermit crab scampered off as the sand dust went flying.

"Music is an integral part of my life, yes." I replied quickly before pausing to think of how to answer without making him even sadder. "It would be unfair to Moira, however, to held her in contempt if she suddenly loses her hearing. A part of me would be sad that I would no longer be able to share my music with her, of course, but I wouldn't love her any less. Music is just one of the many things I happen to enjoy. I can have fun with her through other means. Similarly, you and Izumi can surely connect through activities that don't require you to have perfect sight."

"I have another hypothetical question for you, Nardho." Hamza took off his hat and ran his fingers through his scruffy wavy hair before exhaling. "Suppose you grew up not knowing any other kid who became blind in his childhood because other kids in your school are blind from birth. They all shared this conviction that being blind is a gift, a part of their culture and identity. Suppose for a reason you didn't share that conviction. Won't you feel there's something deeply wrong with you? That's how I felt growing up. I never fit in. I'm not culturally "blind enough" for the small blind community I found myself in yet too blind for the non-blind society."

"I have no clue what to say about that, my friend." I rubbed his back and he flashed me a weak smile. "I can tell you, though, that I understand being an outsider sucks. My siblings and I used to be teased a lot when we were younger for our super frizzy hair. We got called all sort of names, from wild lion mane to walking broccoli forest. Yes, it's not the same as feeling you don't belong in a group that's supposed to be welcoming and inclusive, but my point is if you feel left out by a certain group because of something you can't change, like your genetics or your physical condition, then maybe that group isn't worth stressing out about, you know?"

"Walking broccoli forest?" a laughter escaped from Hamza's lips. "What kind of kids were you hanging out with when you were a little boy? I'd kill to have hair like yours, honestly. I don't mind my wavy hair but curlier hair is head turning. Curly-haired people stand out in the crowd."

"Kids who don't have curly hair." I laughed along with him. "Seriously though, please don't be jealous of my natural hair. You have no idea how frustrating it is to have my hair poof up in the summer. I've been thinking of shaving it all but I guess I'd look weird with shaved head."

"You and your body image issue!" Hamza shoved me lightly. "Hey, guess what? Maybe my being blind isn't so bad after all. If I weren't blind, perhaps I would be more inclined to judge people based on their appearance. Since I literally can't do that, I'm forced to judge people more by their personality. So yeah, there's a positive side to blindness, I'm seeing it now thanks to you!" he gave me a hug, much to my surprise. "I'm so happy I confided in you, Nardho."

"And I'm happy you're being cheerful again." I hugged him back. "For the record, if you're thinking about whether there are correct and incorrect ways to exist as a disabled person, my answer is no. Each disabled individual is unique. For example, I'm struggling with depression but that doesn't mean all other depressed teens struggle in the exact same way I do because the symptoms of depression differ from one individual to another. Another example? Kenta. His parents chose for him to undergo cochlear implant surgery when he was a baby and he couldn't be happier about the choice his parents made, but that doesn't mean all other deaf adults would want to have cochlear implants. Bottom line, existing while disabled is a very personal journey."

"Oh, that's true, Kenta is happy with the technology he has access to but he never once thinks less of other forms of communication like sign language." Hamza nodded. "Sometimes I forget he is deaf, though. He seems to have mastered the imprecise art of lip reading. Hey, do you think he would be offended if I ask him whether he ever wished he isn't deaf just like sometimes I wish I weren't blind? I'm curious if he ever wondered what it would be like if he were raised differently. I know "acting deaf" is a slur and it might be offensive to say that Kenta doesn't act deaf, but he's so well-spoken I wonder if he ever wanted to be non-verbal instead."

"Kenta isn't someone who easily takes offense, but maybe you should wait until you know him a bit better before asking him his opinion," I said and Hamza winced. "No, no, it's not a bad question!" I hastily added. "But he might not know where to begin with his explanation. I remember Rain touching on similar topic during a floor meeting once, long before you transferred here, and I noticed Kenta flinching when they brought up the question of whether our society is built with the mindset that people who produce comprehensible speech are more valuable than those who can't do so. I'm just saying that perhaps he is aware of how his ability to talk despite his auditory challenges is a privilege and he might be dealing with conflicted feelings over his upbringing. So, just be extra cautious if you wanna approach him about this."

"Oh. Thanks for letting me know, I'll use caution when I reached out to him about it." Hamza gave me thumbs up. "It's just that I'm so damn nervous about our scheduled visit to the special education branch of Crystal Lilacs Middle School. I'm not nervous about presenting our research on Kulambas in front of kids with varying degrees and types of disabilities, but I'm nervous about saying something hurtful and derogative without meaning to. Maybe I wouldn't be this nervous if I have pointers regarding what to say and what not to. Maybe Kenta could help in that area, he seems to be a very sensible person and he's older than us therefore he's wiser."

"We could use some of his wisdom," I answered approvingly. "But you can reflect on your own experience too. For example, what are some comments you are tired of hearing from other people when they find out you're blind? Try to remember that and bear in mind not to repeat those things when we visit the special needs children. You'll do amazing, Hamza, believe me."

"Yeah, I guess all this worrying is super unproductive," he chortled. "Let's join Nardhia and Tony. I don't mean surfing, I'm bad with my balance and I know I'd look like a fool, I mean just chilling with them. Splashing around in the water would keep our mind off of our anxieties."

"Let's go!" I got up but then remembered about the watermelon. "Hey, did we eat all of the watermelon? We're supposed to be sharing with everyone else. Oh no, Risma would scold us!"

"I'm not that voracious of an eater!" Hamza smirked. "There's another bowl in the fridge."

"Good!" I let out a breath of relief. "Wouldn't want our friends to think we're being greedy."

Snorting, Hamza held out his left hand. I took it in mine and together we ran toward the ocean.