Memories
about my childhood are almost vague. Some appear to be distinct, but on a
closer look they too are really vague. My memories are rich with numerous
'faceless' people; they come and go randomly and in utter confusion. Then I ask
few questions like Who are you? When and
where did we meet? Did we communicate each other then? etc. I get answers
too, but they are full of contradictions! Some are questions back to me!
So I am unable to derive a clear-cut picture, of all the incidents,
happened in my childhood days. (“There
are two radically different things, both of which are commonly called MEMORY.
The past survives under two distinct forms: first, in motor organisms;
secondly, in independent recollections. For example, a man is said to remember
a poem if he can repeat it by heart, that is to say, if he has acquired a
certain ‘habit or mechanism’ enabling him to repeat a former action. But he
might, at least theoretically, be able to repeat the poem without any recollection
of the previous occasions on which he has read it; thus there is no
consciousness of past events involved in this sort of memory. The second sort,
which alone really deserves to be called memory, is exhibited in recollections
of separate occasions when he has read the poem, each unique and with a date.
Here can be no question of ‘habit’, since each event only occurred once, and
had to make its impression immediately.”— ‘Matter and Memory’, Henri Bergson).
Finally
I decided not to look back to escape from contradicting stuffs. A sea of
worthless memories - I thought. If I keep looking back, I may hate the memories
about my childhood; or even the very concept known as 'Memory'. It is better to
keep my brain clean from the cob webs of vague and troublesome memories. I have
to keep my brain healthy so that it can make wise decisions when time comes.
Brain can be like a villain, too, when its decisions fail, and so needs careful
handling. So I let my brain entertain only those clear and colourful recollections.
I got a few such memories. I wanted to gain a better turnout. But not all our
wishes are destined to realize. Some will, of course, fall short of realization
and then they become our ‘expectations’. Such expectations can strengthen us to
strive hard for a better life.
All incidents which I clearly memorize about my
childhood have a remarkable feature. In all of them, I am a complete man
without any physical drawback or limitations due to that. I had every
opportunity possible and I enjoyed equal considerations everywhere. I
communicated and quarreled with my friends just as normally. I heard songs in
Radio; heard sirens from factories in exact volume. I enjoyed stories told by
my grand-mother. Yes, the external world was accessible to me in all possible
ways. I enjoyed all those to the maximum extend. This is the picture I have of
my early boyhood. A ‘lost paradise’, we can say, now.
Then my hearing capacity began to erode. The memories
from that point in time are blurred. Hearing loss was gradual and
everyone, including me, failed to detect it on time. At first, whenever I tried
to listen carefully to something, I could hear a peculiar noise inside my ears
- a noise, very unclear and indescribable. That sound was so unfamiliar to me
that I could only say that it was not the sound of any beasts, not the sound of
howling wind or not that generated by any musical instrument. In short, this
noise seemed to be generated from nowhere in this world; but it is being heard
myself, whenever listening deep into my ears. I could only experience it, but
could not explain its nature to others.
This mysterious sound settled in my ears, permanently.
This was the beginning of my hearing impairment. Unfortunately I failed to
notice the gradual diminishing of my hearing ability. Classmates whispered each
other - 'Sunil's hearing ability is weak.
He is becoming deaf'. But I turned a deaf ear to all those remarks. I
quarreled with them whenever I happened to hear them say such things. I
relentlessly tried to convince my friends that I am very normal in all respect,
just like them. But nobody paid any attention. Then more and more people
started muttering about my disability. At first, I stared at them; then I
stared at my own body. I began to doubt myself. Is something unusual with me? I
couldn’t find an answer to this question and so again I attempted to correct my
friends, thinking they were getting me wrong. But all my attempts in this
respect went futile. My friends hesitate to believe my words. This caused utter
disappointment to the thirteen year old boy. It was about this time that the
outside world shrank around me. I could no longer enjoy the radio songs
clearly... no longer hear the siren in exact amplitude as before... Everything
changed for me.
This is where my story begins. A cold start indeed!
I had gone
through a number of transitions in my life. I grew from boyhood to youth; went
from school life to college life; shifted from the old home to a new home; then
left the native land to live & work in Bangalore. All these changes in my
life were accompanied by emotional transitions too. The toughest of all these
was the transition from the ‘Non-disabled State’ to ‘Disabled State’! It was
terrible. It happened when I was just 12 year old. At that tender age, my heart
was not ready to accept the bitter truth; it constantly tried to resist the
fact with all its might.
Finally
everyone accepted my loss of hearing; they started considering me as a person
with hearing impairment. Yet, I lived in another world, where I was a
‘perfectly normal person’, all the time hoping them to change their
approach and attitude towards me. I waited for that to happen. Months passed
by. But nothing happened as I expected. I was desperate and was in sheer
confusion. What should I do? Should I behave like a deaf person or a normal
being? If yes, for what? For whom? Is this curse going to be a permanent
one? I really don’t know how to convey all those apprehensions I went through
at that time.
It took me a
couple of years to accept the truth. Yes, I am a man with hearing impairment. I
matured enough to become fully aware of my predicament; to become fully
conscious of the implications. It hurt a lot!
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