Around birth, something cuts off oxygen or blood flow for a minute, damaging the parts of the brain that control movement. It's like a fuse blows in one circuit—the injury itself doesn't spread because the event is over, but the body grows around that one faulty connection. That's what the doctor explained when we asked about my sister.
But the obvious answer misses the real spreading. Her mind is sharp, but the world keeps injuring her spirit when shops don't have ramps or people stare. *Tyō chai feri phailinchha, bhai.* That hurt spreads every day.
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