Strange realities of life

The boy had a sparkling friendly eyes and a broad infectious smile. When I first saw his photo in Mumbai, I could not digest that such a tragedy could be possible in his life. I made it a point to see this boy during my short visit to Coimbatore.

During our onward train journey of 32 hours to Coimbatore from Mumbai, our a/c compartment had seen the vibrant atmosphere of a large extended Tamil family settled in Mumbai, mixing all tongues of Tamil, English, Hindi and Marathi. My insecurity of traveling alone with my son for such a long journey was thoroughly vanquished by their non-stop chatting and eating. My ears were filled with noises all throughout.

Upon reaching Coimbatore, I was asked to reach the mandapam immediately by my mother-in-law to attend the functions related to the upanayanam of my husband’s cousin’s son. I had to fresh up having no time to take rest and rushed immediately to the function hall. The next day was the upanayanam and I had the opportunity to meet almost all of my husband’s relatives. Most of them were pleasantly surprised to see me alone with Atul and had a nice time chit chatting and heart to heart talks with some of them. My mouth and ears had a wonderful time throughout.

There was only one day left for me before leaving for Mumbai and I needed to cover visits to a few houses, a Hanuman temple and shopping with my sister-in-law. The first half of the day had been utilized for the temple visit and shopping and reached home at around 2:30 p.m. with a headache. I felt very tired to even think of the pending visits. But I don’t wish to go back on my words any day and again started off with Atul and Father-in-law. I was appreciating myself of my positive approach to pains.

When I called this boy’s mother about my visit, she requested me to come to her house after 6 p.m. as she has to bring him back from school. Well, I planned my trips accordingly, visited my friends’ families, accepted their loving hospitality, requested them for a Saridon to treat my unbearable headache and at the end entered into his house. The boy’s father is our distant relative though I remember only his parents as they used to visit us on January 1st of every year when we were in Karur. My headache was gone by the time I saw him; so also my head weight.

Let us call this 10-year old boy wonder as ‘H’. When I first saw him, I used my hand gestures to ask, “Eppadi irukka? (How are you?)” His mother immediately told me not to use any. H looked at my lips and replied, “Nalla irukken” in an unclear tone. During our conversation, I came to know that

* he could not speak because he is deaf;
* he is not supposed to communicate with sign languages as it spoils his speaking ability;
* he has to see the lip movements and reply in words;
* he is taught only one language i.e. Tamil as that is the local language and all his subjects are in Tamil only;
* even mother tongue is not taught or spoken to him;
* it is extremely difficult to teach different languages as the child may get confused;
* each and every word has to be taught repeatedly and patiently till he understands;
* whenever he commits mistakes in pronunciation (as he cannot hear the different syllables), it takes a lot of pain and effort on the mother’s side to correct him;
* it is difficult to handle him during discussions of the family matters as he wants to know each and everything;
* his syllabus comprising of Maths, Science, History & Geography is tough for his age;
* he is interested in drawing and painting and produces beautiful sketches whereas his handwriting is not good;

and so on…

I could see the understanding of his elder brother, the sacrifice, patience and love of his mother and the care of his father. I could not control my tears when I saw the beautiful smiles of the mother and the son. Atul was deeply touched by this meeting and became humble. When I asked H before leaving if he would come to Bahrain (“Bahrain varriya?”), immediately he said, “Varrein.” His father explained to him that he has to take a flight for which he said, “Enakku theriyum.” Aha! Mixture of so much innocence and knowledge emanating from his noiseless world!

Many times H could not understand my lip movements and his mother had to explain slowly in a different way. The smile on his lips never faded even for a moment. I don’t know if he understands the limitations of his life or if visits of people make him feel inferior. I can only console myself that I was extended invitations by them many times which I had honoured without fail.

The life of H is one of silence and he is taught how to make sounds diligently. It is an ongoing struggle for the boy, parents and school. Here I am in the world of sounds all the time, either at the giving or receiving end. And I wish to run towards silence even at the slightest given opportunity.

I had to handle my vow of silence with sign language and my son’s help to receive the courier yesterday (August 21, 2008). Probably, the courier personnel might have thought that I have speaking disability.

Strange are the differing perceptions, limitations, realities and goals of life!