Voice Within Silence

  “This is the reality many families face. Not because their child is broken, but because the system is.” A father messaged me recently. His 9-year-old deaf son received a cochlear implant. But the school refused to provide the services he needed to access sound, language, and learning. No direct support. No auditory-verbal therapy. No teacher of the deaf. Even the FM system wasn’t working. Expert recommendations were ignored. They tried to resolve it quietly. They were forced to take legal action. Not once, but twice. “I thought the hardest part would be the surgery. But no one tells you the real fight starts after that. Just to give your child a chance to learn.” This isn’t rare. This is what happens when systems stop listening. When cochlear implants are seen as solutions and not as tools that still need support. When parents are treated as problems instead of allies. Let this be a reminder. Inclusion is not a favor. Access is not optional. Listening should never have to be dema...

 I Was a Deaf Student on Exam Day. This Is What Happened. I was 15 years old when this happened, an age when dreams feel fragile and every exam feels like a doorway to our future. It was my 10th standard public examination, an important milestone. Like all my classmates, I arrived at the exam centre feeling nervous but ready. A teacher came and announced the allotted room numbers. I followed the instruction, searched for my seat, but my register number wasn’t there. Panic took over. My hands trembled. I rushed outside and called my teacher. After rechecking, they told me I was allotted to a separate room . I entered the room. It was silent. No students. Just a single supervisor. For the first time, I wrote a major public exam completely alone . I was confused. I had prepared, studied, practiced mock tests with my friends. I had written all the previous school exams in regular classrooms with classmates. Why now, on the most important exam of the year, was I sitting in isolatio...

 Left Behind in the Noise: Deaf Anxiety on Public Transport The bus was full. People were talking, the engine was humming, announcements were being made somewhere in the noise. I sat near the middle, checking the route on my phone, trying to match every landmark outside the window with the dots on the screen. I can’t rely on announcements. I’ve learned that the hard way. Suddenly, I noticed people shifting. Someone stood up. Then two more. Then the crowd began to move like a wave, bags slung over shoulders, footsteps toward the door, jackets zipped up. I looked around. Was this my stop? The final stop? Was something wrong? I didn’t hear anything. No announcement. No signal. My heart started racing not in panic, but in trained alertness . This wasn’t new. This wasn’t shocking. It was just... familiar . A familiar fear that maybe I had missed something. That everyone else knew something I didn’t. That, once again, I would be the only one sitting there, confused, stuck, ...

When I Can’t Hear Myself: A Deaf Experience of Voice Control When I wear my cochlear implant, I can hear my own voice. I can tell when I’m being too loud or too soft. I can adjust my tone, my pitch, my presence. Sound gives me control not just over what I hear, but over how I speak. But without the device, everything changes. On rainy days, during thunder, or when my implant is charging or late at night when I take it of I'm surrounded by silence. And in those moments, when I speak, I truly  can’t hear myself . I speak what feels “normal” to me. But then someone suddenly tells me, “Lower your voice.” And I freeze. Sometimes it’s my parents. Sometimes my friends. Sometimes a stranger in a quiet room. Their words catch me off guard, but it’s their  expression  that really stays with me—shocked, annoyed, or even angry. That’s when the panic sets in. Because I honestly didn’t know I was loud. And just like that, my confidence disappears. I go silent. Not because I don’t want ...

 I Act Like I Hear You: The Hidden Toll of Trying Sometimes, I nod when I didn’t really understand. I laugh when others laugh, even if I didn’t catch the joke. I rehearse responses in my head because I’m not sure if I really heard you right. I act like I’m hearing more than I am. This isn’t lying. It’s survival . In psychology, it’s called auditory-verbal masking or effortful socialization-  a term used to describe what many deaf and hard-of-hearing people do to fit into the hearing world, especially those of us with cochlear implants or hearing aids. It means mimicking behaviors of hearing individuals responding quickly, maintaining eye contact, laughing at the right times even when you’re exhausted, even when you’re lost. We do it to pass. To avoid being left out. To not be the “inconvenient” one in the group. But there’s a cost. 💢 The Psychology Behind the Mask In social and cognitive psychology, this behavior mirrors autistic masking and code-switching in margina...

  Not Deaf Enough, Not Hearing Enough: Life in the Middle If I had stayed entirely in the Deaf world, I may not have become the person I am today. I wouldn't have danced to music I could hear. I wouldn't have discovered the thrill of rhythms, songs, or even the beauty of spoken languages. My cochlear implant didn’t make life easy—but it opened up possibilities . It allowed me to step into the hearing world and taste the things I once thought were unreachable. But that world came with a cost. Because even now, I'm still not a fully "hearing" person. I struggle in noisy environments. I get lost in fast group conversations. I ask someone to repeat a word, and they look at me as if I'm slow or distracted. Sometimes I just smile—not because I understood—but because I’m too tired to explain that I didn’t. Living in Between: The Invisible Space I am not completely Deaf anymore. But I am not truly hearing either. I live in the space between. Psycholo...

 When Listening Drains Me: The Side of Deafness No One Sees People often assume listening is easy. That if you have ears or even a cochlear implant you can just hear, respond, and move on. But for me, listening is work. It takes energy, focus, and emotional strength especially in noisy or social situations. In group conversations , it’s the hardest. If I miss a word, I turn to someone next to me for help. But even that feels risky. They may think I’m disturbing them, interrupting, or not paying attention. But the truth is I’m trying harder than anyone realizes. And when I can’t keep up, it hits me like a storm. A flood of frustration, helplessness, sadness… sometimes all at once. My brain feels like it’s on overload , and I lose control over how I feel. The world becomes too loud outside , and too heavy inside. What I’ve come to realize is this isn’t just personal. It’s actually something psychologists call listening fatigue . People who use hearing aids or cochlear implants have...

 Talent Doesn’t Need Permission: My Journey Through Open and Closed Doors Talent doesn’t ask who you are. It just shows up. It grows quietly, passionately, whether people believe in you or not. But in my journey as a deaf individual with a cochlear implant, I’ve learned one thing very clearly: having talent isn’t always enough. You still have to fight just to be allowed to use it. Over the years, I’ve embraced many talents. Dance was my first love. I performed on a college stage at just four years old and formally joined Bharatanatyam at seven. Now, with 15 years of experience, I’ve danced on stages across four colleges, seven schools, temples and even Nehru Stadium. Along the way, I explored folk, Kuchipudi, Mohiniyattam, and Western styles, and won more than ten prizes. At ten, I joined a drawing class. One of my artworks was proudly pinned to the school notice board. At twelve, I started learning the keyboard (musical instrument). I even trained in singing first at six years old...

Classroom Echoes: When I Heard, but I Wasn’t Heard I’ve spent most of my life trying to listen — not just with my ears, but with my whole heart. As a cochlear implant user, stepping into a classroom wasn’t just about learning lessons. It was about navigating sound, silence, and everything in between. While others heard without thinking, I had to think just to hear. And even then, I often felt like I wasn’t truly heard . The Sound of Struggle From the outside, I looked like any other student. I sat in the same rows, held the same notebooks, and nodded when the teacher spoke. But inside, I was straining focusing hard to catch every word, lip-reading when the voice became unclear, silently praying the teacher wouldn’t turn away while talking. There were days when I sat in class and wondered if the lessons were meant only for students who could hear effortlessly. Teachers taught as if everyone was catching every word, but for me, even a single sentence took a few seconds longer to pro...