P S SUNDAR'S ARTICLE ON HIS SON -- 3

WHEELCHAIR KEEPS US VIGNESH’S MEMORY 

 BY P.S. SUNDAR 

 “SIR, the chair is ready in the shop. We can place order for shipment”, my contact person in Japan told me over phone.

 “Thanks, but we won’t need it any more”, I replied. 

 “But why, Sir? Have you bought a better model? Till a fortnight ago, you were saying this was the best model”. 

 “But, now, the user is no more. He passed away a week ago. So, we are donating his present chair itself to the hospital”. 

 This was a wheel chair – modern, motorised and usable on road and indoors. It could tilt, stretch and climb slopes and steps. With cushioned seats and hand rests, it could provide comfort. I had spotted the model of the chair, then a rarity, in a specialised outlet in Japan and wanted to create a workstation for my only son, Vignesh, then 15 years old and studying for Plus Two, but was crippled to wheel chair by the incurable muscular disorder. As the physical availability of the chair would need over 10 days’ time, I had requested my contact there to follow up, but when the message of the chair being ready came, Vignesh had already left us for ever. 

We donated one of his wheel chairs to the hospital in Perambur treating him during his ill-fated eight long years, but have brought to our home in Coonoor another chair he was using which keep us in memory of him as we enter the seventh year of his demise on Oct 21. 

 We cannot separate ourselves from this chair more so when we read the record of Dhuruvan, Vice Principal of his school in his book, “Dhurvan Kattum Siruvar paathai” (The path shown to children by Dhuruvan) about the way my wife used to wheel Vignesh to school daily. “I had never taught Vignesh, but was deeply moved by the commitment he showed in fulfilling the desire of his parents to excel in studies and co-curricular activities. So, I am dedicating this book to his memory”, Dhuruvan wrote to us sending a copy of the same. On page 3 of the book, his dedication in the form of a poem along with Vignesh’s photo appears. As it is uncommon for authors to dedicate their books of hard work to unknown persons, the contribution the wheel chair has made to Vignesh getting recognition within the limited moving space making Dhuruvan dedicate his book to Vignesh’s memory endears us closer to his wheel chair.

Vignesh did not see much of even Chennai but whatever little he saw during the 15 short years he lived with us was because of his wheel chair. For the shopkeepers and even the beggars in Ragava Street, Vignesh’s wheel chair was a familiar vehicle every morning and evening to and fro his school. Equally so, to the occupants on Paper Mills Road on his trip to and fro hospital every evening.

I heard of neighbours telling us a few days after our moving lock, stock barrel to Coonoor that they are missing Vignesh and his wheel chair. We are missing Vignesh but not his wheel chair.

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