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Will pity suffice?
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Where normal people struggle to remain alive, the plight of the handicapped can well be imagined. Some introspection on the occasion of World Disabled Day.
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THE PINK towel spread on the platform of Nungambakkam station had just over Rs. 6 in coins. Unaware of the benevolence of a few transit passengers, the visually handicapped man in his mid-fifties played on a keyboard that was carefully wrapped in a polythene sheet. The keyboard was probably worth a few hundred rupees; the type you or I would get our children knowing that it would soon be dumped inside a cupboard of toys.
But here was this man pouring his heart into a similar keyboard that was connected to a speaker to boost the heavily metallic notes. Did the man buy the set? Unlikely. When he is totally dependent on alms, it would be far-fetched to expect him to spare the money needed to invest in simple gadgets. It was probably someone's benevolence or he could have taken it on loan — for a daily rent.
Knots of people stood and watched as he played. Some stood close by to enjoy the music, but not a single one of the score dug into his pocket to spare a few coins. The man was as oblivious of the audience as its hesitating benevolence. The amplified sound reached a good distance on either side of the platform, and seemed to smoothly surf the drowning sound of the EMU rotors and pneumatic pumps for the brakes.
Later in the train, there were visually handicapped couples singing, their palms outstretched. One benevolent gentleman dropped a five-rupee coin but promptly took back Rs.4.50 from the open palm. On the return journey from Tambaram, there was another visually handicapped person selling lottery tickets and plastic covers for electricity cards, ration cards and gas cards. He insisted that his customers were usually honest.
What is it like to be handicapped in a city like Chennai? Not a very reassuring experience, most would agree. Where normal people struggle to remain alive, the plight of the handicapped can well be imagined. Neither do all buildings have ramps for the physically handicapped nor do the traffic signals provide audible cues for the visually handicapped (once a while, one comes across a sensitive constable or a pedestrian helping a visually handicapped person across the road, but such empathy is rare in a city where everyone is in a hurry). And what about the mentally challenged — those whose mental development lags far behind their physical age because of some debilitating disease during infancy?
On the World Disabled Day today, I am sure you will not hesitate to agree that a large number of people are mentally or physically challenged. But do we give them as much attention as they deserve? It may be worthwhile trying to be handicapped to see how it feels if you were reduced to helplessness in the big bad world out there. Fold your legs in Padmasana, and try moving around on your hands in your house the whole day; or blindfold yourself and try existing at home for 24 hours without anyone's help. You will probably get a glimpse of the dark reality the physically and visually challenged face everyday.
Even though Chapter VII of The Persons with Disabilities (Equal Opportunities, Protection of Rights and Full Participation) Act of 1995 states that ``The appropriate Governments shall by notification make schemes to provide aids and appliances to persons with disabilities'' (Section 42), ``appliances'' cannot simply mean a hand-powered tricycle or a white cane or a set of crutches. The Act presumes a positive attitude which is a strong and unsustainable presumption, if one believes what one sees happening to the disabled: protest marches by the disabled dealt with ruthlessly, highly educated but physically disabled remaining unemployed, and many turning into beggars just to live.
I am reminded of a man who was a partial paralytic and had become a wastepaper vendor in Madurai. Despite the harsh summer, he walked down the streets, buying old newspapers from willing residents. I learnt that he had fought the British as an Indian National Army jawan. But he got no pension, despite all the documents, which he had saved from the onslaught of time. ``Did we dream of this India when we joined the forces of Netaji'', he had asked.
Would it therefore be far-fetched to say that we are seemingly pleasant but in reality hostile to those who are not as blessed as we are?
G.G.
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