Skip to main content

LEARNING TO LIVE WITH DISABILITIES

 

The only disability in life is bad attitude. 

-Scott Hamilton (b.1958), Retired American Figure Skater and Olympic Gold Medallist

Since 1938 my father was working as Pipe-fitter with Military Engineering Services at Bangalore. Though it is a non-transferable job, in the second half of 1956 for some weird reason he was transferred to Kadakavasala, a rocky village, twelve miles away from Pune, where National Defence Academy was just then coming up. He initially went alone leaving behind his old mother, wife and five children at Bangalore, but as he found the going got very difficult, he decided to shift his family from Bangalore to Kadakavasala during the summer vacation. Thus, during May 1957 eight of us left Bangalore by train to Pune via Miraj.

After about two hours, the train stopped at a station called Tumkur for nearly fifteen minutes. At the station my maternal grand-mother – Chengamalam, my maternal aunt, Jayammal and her graduate son were there on the platform looking for us. The moment my mother saw them, she was excited and so were the relatives. My maternal grand-mother cuddled all of us with a broad smile on her face and lovingly distributed the snacks that she had brought. I observed that she could not see properly and my relatives were talking into her ears, as she was short of hearing. It was for the first time that I saw someone disabled in my relatives circle. 

Chengamalam (1899-1971) was the youngest of four children (3 daughters and 1 son) born to Rangacharya (1868-1948) and Thangammal, residents of a village – Ukkalagere, situated in Tirumakudal Narasipur (known as T-Narasipur) taluk in Mysore district. The name Thirumakudal comes because three rivers meet at this place – Cauvery, Kabini and Spatika Sarovar. This is the only place in south India where three rivers meet[1]. Ukkalagere along with another village was gifted to paternal grand-father of Rangacharya – Karur Srinvasacharya, a great scholar from the neighbouring Tamilnadu, by then king of Mysore Province, Mumumdi Krishnarajendra Wodeyar, after he had won a week-long debate with another scholar from Varanasi. 

Karur Srinivasacharya was born 23 generations after his famous ancestor Sudarshanacharya who had the unique opportunity to learn directly from the wellknown Saint-Philosopher-Reformer of 11 th – 12th Centuries, Ramanujacharya[2]. Perhaps because of the lineage Chengamalam from a very young age was a bright and responsible child. She had herself learnt many Sanskrit shlokas and Nalayira Divya Prabhandam[3] (also known as Tamil Vedas) just by listening to elders reciting at home even before she turned nine years. As was the practice of that era, when she was just eleven years, she was married to Srinivasagopala Chakravarthy of Sosale (another village just 11 Kms away from Ukkalagere in the same T- Narasipur taluk). 

Srinivasagopalan who was then 20, had lost his first wife at the time of delivery of baby girl a year ago. Sometime during 1913, Chengamalam who was about 14 years old moved to Sosale with the responsibility of parenting a four year old girl child, unlike girls of that age of this era, who’d be studying in high-school dreaming of becoming a doctor or an engineer.

Apart from parenting her step daughter, Chengamalam gave birth to seven children from 1914 to 1933 – four daughters and three sons. All these years she managed the household chores which demanded more than 14 hours of work schedule every day. As cooking was done with fire-wood during that era, she suffered from constant headaches because of the emanating smoke. Over a period of a few years, perhaps due to constant exposure to smoke and lack of medical attention, her optic and auditory nerves got damaged and by late 1930s, she almost lost 95 percent of her sight and hearing ability.

Meanwhile, as Sosale did not have education facility beyond higher primary (7 th Standard of today), she had to shift to Mysore with family, while her husband stayed back to take care of the lands and the temple. Even her elder sister’s children who had joined college in Mysore also stayed in the house apart from her father and brother visiting often from Ukkalagere. Thus, the house at Mysore had become hub for the entire family of Rangacharya and Chengamalam managed it with all love and care at her disposal. By 1943 all the five daughters were married and she took care of delivery of their babies too during 1928 to 1953. 

Though she had lost sight, she’d ask her grand-children to read serial stories from the weekly magazines in her ear and teach them in turn shlokas and Prabandam. As a young boy, I had visited her in Coimbatore sometime during 1962 when she was living with her youngest son who was pursuing his Chartered Accountancy and again at Tumkur in 1963. With all her constraints, she was a great host taking care of us, including cooking food!

After her husband passed away in 1955, except for a short period when she lived at Coimbatore, most of her life she lived with her second daughter Jayammal at Tumkur and later at Bangalore when Jayammal’s son who was working for Life Insurance Corporation established a house. As the house was just a couple of Kilometres away from our house, we used to visit our grand-mother often and even she’d come to our house though occasionally. I had not come across another person, who inspite of the disabilities, never ever complained about anything in life, but always had positive outlook. 

My mother, now 96 years and suffering from dementia, often remembers her mother, recalling how she was worrying about her, because she was not very much conscious about the material world. Having entered into my Seventies, as I reflect, I realise that I have internalised a couple of traits of my maternal grand-mother – endurance and positive thinking, which have greatly helped me in difficult times during my family life as well as profession.

[1] https://nammamysore.com/

[2] Asthan Vidhwan Gopalacharya, 1948, ‘Karur Srinivasacharya Charithe’, Oriental Research Institute, Mysore

[3] The Nalayira Divya Prabandham is a collection of 4,000 Tamil verses composed by the 12 Alvars, and was compiled in its present form by Nathamunigal during the 9th – 10th centuries. 

~~~ 

November 27th, 2023 | Ravi 67 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

GROWTH & CHANGE

Behind every successful man, there is a surprised woman.  But behind every happy man, there are many silent women.  In the 21 st century, driven by technology with a growing number of gratificationseekers, understanding oneself in terms of one’s potential and limitations to lead a happy and fulfilling life is increasingly becoming complex. While we can observe or experience the changes happening around us and realize the necessity to modify ourselves, as we grow older, adapting to change becomes more difficult.  Born in a middle-class, not-so-conservative family living in the then beautiful Bangalore, around the time when India became a full-fledged Republic[1], growing up was easy and fun-filled. My mother tells me that when she was relaxing after lunch in the main hall of our ancestral house, on a cosy afternoon towards the end of July, I popped out of her, as if in a tearing hurry to see how the real world looks like. She also tells me that no one was around at that ti...

FEAR AND FREEDOM

“Freedom is pure observation without direction, without fear of punishment and reward. Freedom is without motive; freedom is not at the end of the evolution of man, but lies in the first step of his existence”. –Jiddu Krishnamurthy (1980) Even with all the materialistic comforts and a fair amount of understanding of life, the one thing that most of us will always love to have is freedom. With aspirations and expectations developed over a period of time since childhood days, based on our understanding as well as family and social conditioning, it becomes increasingly difficult to reorient ourselves at later stages in life. We feel that we have lost that freedom. I was named as Srinivasa Rangan formally at the time of naming ceremony when I was a few days old; I’m told that my paternal aunt started calling me Ravi and that remained my name in the family circle. When my father admitted me to the school, he gave my name as Srinivasa Rangan but I interrupted and told the school principal, “...
  “Transformation does not happen by learning new information. It happens when you change how you view and react to other people, events, and things around you”. I started feeling helplessness when I was about seven. My elder sister who was suffering from Type-1 Diabetes succumbed to the disease when she was just about twelve. This happened within a few weeks of our moving to Khadakavasala (a small town situated seven and a half miles from Pune) following my father’s transfer from Bangalore. I saw the elders at home wailing and didn’t know how to console them. The fact that my sister didn’t return home after my father had taken her out with a few of our neighbours and his colleagues made me seek the reason for it. I was told that she has reached God. It was only a couple of years later I learnt a little more about death.   When I was almost nine, I was afflicted by eczema and it was terribly itchy and painful. I suffered from jaundice a couple of years later; there were severe...