Sumitra - Lessons

In my first day in school I learnt that Louis Braille was 15 when he first invented the Braille system of writing. I also learnt that all the children in the school who were my age could read Braille. Pari never taught me how to read or write Braille and for a long time after I wondered why. I of course had to wonder why because I wouldn't ask her the question. Pari was a close friend and I felt I knew her well. The most important lessons she taught were not so much what she said or did, but what she quietly left unsaid - lessons for me to realize by myself. But before I learnt any of these lessons, I had a harsh reality to face.

The peon took me to the class and from there the teacher took over. Without coming near me she introduced herself. She then gave me directions to my seat as I stood at the doorstep. I realized I was expected to find my way to my seat. The teacher meant well - she did not want to make me feel any less independent for my disability, but I failed her miserably. I'd survived seven years without a cane simply because I'd never needed one at home. I'd finally received one as a gift for my first day at school and I think my father may not have enjoyed the sight of me struggling with a cane - to him it must have represented my greatest weakness. For a man who considered me perfect, any 'flaw', no matter how stoutly denied, must have been heartbreaking.

The trip to school and then to class had been carefully guided by Pari and the peon, but when I was finally asked to walk by myself, I had neither the measure of distances in the room nor the confidence in myself to walk alone. I was shattered as I tripped within the first few steps I took as my cane got caught in one of the chairs. At that moment I felt a terrible weight upon me. I'd come to school hoping to learn, to ask questions and to find answers, to meet people and be part of something more than a small family. For the first time, however, I had doubts. I wondered if I could ever belong, if I could adapt to a world that seemed nothing like the one in my imagination. I did not seem to be able to walk by myself, how would I ever face stiffer tests?

I cursed my shattered dreams and blamed Pari for letting me suffer. I almost cried. Why hadn't she helped me learn something as simple as walking with a cane? If I didn't know how to do that, I was terrified of what else I'd find that I did not know. Things did seem terrible, but the St. Louis School for the Visually Impaired was fortunately not instituted to heighten my insecurities. I was to learn that it was NOT founded as a special school for the visually impaired because the visually impaired needed special schooling. Although I didn't know it then, education at St. Louis was no different from that imparted elsewhere. The intention was never to give the children the feeling that they were lesser people. Like I said, the teacher gave me directions rather than help me to my seat.

However, when it became evident that I'd need assistance to make it to my seat, that teacher did come up to me and lead me there. The teacher asked me to introduce myself and I stiffly told the class my name. 15 voices wished me in response that morning, but they did not do it in chorus nor did they do it one by one in a neat organized sequence. A cacophony of cheerful voices greeted me as I heard a variety of 'Hi's and 'Hello Sumitra's. Every voice cheered me, but my feeling of despondence at having tripped must still have been very visible. The teacher, Agnes, halted a scheduled class of Mathematics so the other children could tell me the story of Louis Braille.

I felt better by the time that Math class was over but it became evident I would need some of the conventional skills the other children already possessed to get along in school. And then there was the school's library I heard about before the day was over. If I had to make any use of it I had to learn Braille.

On my second day in school I did the brave thing of walking into the library with no idea of how I was going to use it. In fact I would have had no way of getting there if one of the students hadn't been going to the library himself. He told me his name was Louis. On the way to the library he also told me he was from the orphanage attached to the school and had been named by one of its first principals, father Albert. Louis, who showed me the way, would have been a forgotten anecdote in my memory but for the fact that I asked him if he was named so after Louis Braille. He told me he was named after the thirteenth century French king who was canonized. I felt embarrassed at how little I knew, although I guess it's understandable if you don't know at the age of 11 who Louis IX is.

Anyway I was only more determined to walk into that library. But after we went in, Louis left me at the librarian's desk and headed for his favourite section. I stood there for a couple of minutes before a middle-aged man asked me if he could be of any assistance. I explained my plight to him. Mr. Jebadas asked me to take a chair and once again I was at a loss. I tapped my cane around and found an unfamiliar chair. It felt old and worn but comfortable all the same and I managed to sit in it - my first successful independent act in school and I felt better already.

Mr. Jebadas that day told me how the library worked. About the publications they had, the books in various Braille systems. The various embossed books they had and the equally large collection of regular prints of literary classics and scientific texts. He told me of the various sections and how you borrowed books and when you returned them. When he finished, I asked him about the regular prints that he had mentioned. He told me how the school had volunteer readers who came and sat with the children to read those books and magazines for which they did not have the embossed versions. It was also the first time I heard of the weekend book reading sessions. He told me about the volunteers who visited the school and read old literary works on Saturdays for small groups of students who were interested.

The book reading sessions became my favourite part of the week for quite a few years afterwards. I hardly ever missed one. I remember my first time at a book reading the Saturday after I joined school. Treasure Island was exciting and we sat for a couple of hours listening to an abridged version. I loved the story so much I borrowed an unabridged version and made father read it out to me every night for nearly a week and he finished it on Friday just before my next book reading. I began to look forward to school and the weekends following it. Things were picking up gradually and it did begin to look like I would fit in but I still didn't learn Braille until I was sixteen.