Found this in my notes. This profile is an assignment I did in college.
Man with a visionFebruary 17, 2011
He sat cross-legged on a red sofa, his hands on the handles and head held-up high. His black hair had retreated to the sides and back of his head, revealing a large portion of his brown scalp, not an uncommon phenomenon among young. His brown eyes looked amused and a smile played up on his lips showing white teeth beneath thicket of black moustache. He had just asked me to guess his age. 35?
35, he heard the voice. He laughed as he looked at the blob of mass from where the sound had come. “My wife should hear this,” he said aloud. He called out to his manager, “Ranjit! Did you hear that?”
“Yes sir,” he heard a familiar voice. He looked to his left at the source of the sound. A new blob of mass of nondescript colour had appeared. He did not know how far it was as everything was two dimensional. But he could judge the distance to the voice. He got up and walked towards the blob. Putting his hands on where the blob’s shoulder should be he said, “And you say that I look old!”
“Sir, there is not much difference between 35 and 40.”
He disagreed, “Of course there is!” In his life every year counts. He let go of the mass and made his way to the sofa. He knew where it was.
For C. Gopalakrishnan, or Gopi as he is fondly called, struggle defines life. As he sits in his comfortable office in Nethrodaya, a hostel for visually and physically challenged people that he founded in 2002, he recollects how his lifelong fight for the rights of visually challenged started.
The year was 1988. It was an early November morning in Chennai and the weather was moderately hot. A group of 150 college students assembled in front of the Central Government office at Shastri Bhavan. They were from College Students Graduate Association for Blind (CSGAB). At 8.45 a.m., they started shouting slogans and in less than an hour proceeded to block the road.
Gopi, then a first year student of English literature in Pachiyappa College, was one of them. The demands were simple. Allow the visually challenged to study all the subjects in college and not just English, Tamil and History. The police watched with disinterest. Such protests were a routine affair.
Two hours later the traffic situation had become worse. The police, after receiving orders from their seniors, arrested the students and took them to Nungambakkam Railway Station. From there the students were stuffed in police vans and sent to Nungambakkam Police Station. They were left off in the evening at half past six. A few days later government accepted their demand and opened up more courses for the blind.
“There was no looking back,” he says. Over the years he protested for various rights of visually challenged. He was imprisoned 16 times, once -- chained and beaten.
“The important part is not that I was hurt but that we won. We are like tea bags. Unless put in hot water we would not know how strong we are.”
He is aware that rights are not served on platter. One has to fight for it. But his fight against social prejudices has proved to be a tough one.
Nethrodaya was born of a similar fight. While doing a project in second semester of PG Diploma course in Social Entrepreneurship, he found that the blind beggars in suburban metro stations were not allowed to be vendors. They did not bribe the police as the ‘normal’ vendors did and hence they were reduced to begging. Surprisingly, most of the blind beggars were graduates who could not afford the cost of living in the city. Nethrodaya was started to provide free accommodation to visually challenged and later extended to include physically challenged. However, what had enraged Gopi, more than the living conditions, was the discrimination against the visually challenged.
“What right does anyone has to judge our capability? We can do what ‘normal’ people can,” he says. Gopi has never believed that he was blind and at times he has fooled others into thinking the same.
Last year in October, Akhil Ajit, a final year student of Bachelors of Social Work went to ONGC (Oil and Natural Gas Corporation) to apply for CSR grant for a certain college function. He entered the lift with Gopi on the ground floor. He overheard Gopi speaking about Murali, the person in-charge for giving CSR grants. “Sir, are you applying for CSR grant too?” Akhil asked. Gopi said yes and told him about Nethrodaya. It was 15 minutes later, when someone in ONGC office told him, that Akhil realised that Gopi had only partial vision. “I was shocked. I could not guess from his walk or anything that he could not see.”
Gopi was six years old when he was detected with Retinitis Pigmentosa. It is a genetic disorder in which the vision depletes with time. It is commonly found in communities that have inter-relation marriages. Gopi’s parents were Nairs from Kerala who practice endogamy in order to keep the property within the family. They had migrated to Chennai after marriage.
They were dejected when series of eye check-ups and consultations with doctors revealed that their son’s ailment could not be corrected. Only cornea related eye problems can be corrected. Mocking at the irony he says, “My cornea are in perfect condition. Believe it or not, I can donate my eyes.”
With blindness comes social untouchability which is more prevalent in the elite culture than anywhere else.
In 2006, Gopi decided to shift the Nethrodaya building as larger accommodation was required. The state government allotted them a land in an elite area in Mogappair where number of bureaucrats live. When the residents found out about the allotment there launched numerous protests filing 16 cases, which they won in municipal court and lost in High Court. They tried preventing the construction at every level by obtaining various stay orders. Their reasons ranged on degree of ridiculousness, from “seeing a blind person in the morning is a bad omen” to “we have invested lot of money in these houses, if you come the land prices will dip.” They said that seeing a blind person will lead them to depression.
“Education has not given them wisdom” says Gopi. “If they cannot be of any help they should not become hindrance in other people’s life. I don’t see why they can’t go about their work instead of cribbing about other people’s business.”
The new building was inaugurated in 2009. Since then Gopi has found many sympathisers. The vegetable vendor provides them free vegetables. There are others who support them, but were unwilling to stand-up against the bureaucrats.
In Nethrodaya, Gopi attempts to blur the line between ‘normal’ and ‘challenged’. Things are provided according to the needs. The residents are given classes in computer, music and yoga.
Gopi finds respite in his family. His wife, Usha, pampers him. Theirs was a love marriage. He dotes on his ten-years-old daughter Sethulaxmi, who chirps around the house. To him she is his sunshine. Sethulaxmi remembers the time when her father invited her favourite actor Surya to Nethrodaya. “I love Surya! He came and he hugged me. I was four then. He said nice things about my daddy,” she rattles her fondest memory.
Each year there are a number of things that Gopi learns and a lot of things he prefers to forget. It helps him win his daily fight with frustration. For now, he plans to start a high school for visually challenged girls. Gopi proves that vision has many definitions.
Man with a visionFebruary 17, 2011
He sat cross-legged on a red sofa, his hands on the handles and head held-up high. His black hair had retreated to the sides and back of his head, revealing a large portion of his brown scalp, not an uncommon phenomenon among young. His brown eyes looked amused and a smile played up on his lips showing white teeth beneath thicket of black moustache. He had just asked me to guess his age. 35?
35, he heard the voice. He laughed as he looked at the blob of mass from where the sound had come. “My wife should hear this,” he said aloud. He called out to his manager, “Ranjit! Did you hear that?”
“Yes sir,” he heard a familiar voice. He looked to his left at the source of the sound. A new blob of mass of nondescript colour had appeared. He did not know how far it was as everything was two dimensional. But he could judge the distance to the voice. He got up and walked towards the blob. Putting his hands on where the blob’s shoulder should be he said, “And you say that I look old!”
“Sir, there is not much difference between 35 and 40.”
He disagreed, “Of course there is!” In his life every year counts. He let go of the mass and made his way to the sofa. He knew where it was.
For C. Gopalakrishnan, or Gopi as he is fondly called, struggle defines life. As he sits in his comfortable office in Nethrodaya, a hostel for visually and physically challenged people that he founded in 2002, he recollects how his lifelong fight for the rights of visually challenged started.
The year was 1988. It was an early November morning in Chennai and the weather was moderately hot. A group of 150 college students assembled in front of the Central Government office at Shastri Bhavan. They were from College Students Graduate Association for Blind (CSGAB). At 8.45 a.m., they started shouting slogans and in less than an hour proceeded to block the road.
Gopi, then a first year student of English literature in Pachiyappa College, was one of them. The demands were simple. Allow the visually challenged to study all the subjects in college and not just English, Tamil and History. The police watched with disinterest. Such protests were a routine affair.
Two hours later the traffic situation had become worse. The police, after receiving orders from their seniors, arrested the students and took them to Nungambakkam Railway Station. From there the students were stuffed in police vans and sent to Nungambakkam Police Station. They were left off in the evening at half past six. A few days later government accepted their demand and opened up more courses for the blind.
“There was no looking back,” he says. Over the years he protested for various rights of visually challenged. He was imprisoned 16 times, once -- chained and beaten.
“The important part is not that I was hurt but that we won. We are like tea bags. Unless put in hot water we would not know how strong we are.”
He is aware that rights are not served on platter. One has to fight for it. But his fight against social prejudices has proved to be a tough one.
Nethrodaya was born of a similar fight. While doing a project in second semester of PG Diploma course in Social Entrepreneurship, he found that the blind beggars in suburban metro stations were not allowed to be vendors. They did not bribe the police as the ‘normal’ vendors did and hence they were reduced to begging. Surprisingly, most of the blind beggars were graduates who could not afford the cost of living in the city. Nethrodaya was started to provide free accommodation to visually challenged and later extended to include physically challenged. However, what had enraged Gopi, more than the living conditions, was the discrimination against the visually challenged.
“What right does anyone has to judge our capability? We can do what ‘normal’ people can,” he says. Gopi has never believed that he was blind and at times he has fooled others into thinking the same.
Last year in October, Akhil Ajit, a final year student of Bachelors of Social Work went to ONGC (Oil and Natural Gas Corporation) to apply for CSR grant for a certain college function. He entered the lift with Gopi on the ground floor. He overheard Gopi speaking about Murali, the person in-charge for giving CSR grants. “Sir, are you applying for CSR grant too?” Akhil asked. Gopi said yes and told him about Nethrodaya. It was 15 minutes later, when someone in ONGC office told him, that Akhil realised that Gopi had only partial vision. “I was shocked. I could not guess from his walk or anything that he could not see.”
Gopi was six years old when he was detected with Retinitis Pigmentosa. It is a genetic disorder in which the vision depletes with time. It is commonly found in communities that have inter-relation marriages. Gopi’s parents were Nairs from Kerala who practice endogamy in order to keep the property within the family. They had migrated to Chennai after marriage.
They were dejected when series of eye check-ups and consultations with doctors revealed that their son’s ailment could not be corrected. Only cornea related eye problems can be corrected. Mocking at the irony he says, “My cornea are in perfect condition. Believe it or not, I can donate my eyes.”
With blindness comes social untouchability which is more prevalent in the elite culture than anywhere else.
In 2006, Gopi decided to shift the Nethrodaya building as larger accommodation was required. The state government allotted them a land in an elite area in Mogappair where number of bureaucrats live. When the residents found out about the allotment there launched numerous protests filing 16 cases, which they won in municipal court and lost in High Court. They tried preventing the construction at every level by obtaining various stay orders. Their reasons ranged on degree of ridiculousness, from “seeing a blind person in the morning is a bad omen” to “we have invested lot of money in these houses, if you come the land prices will dip.” They said that seeing a blind person will lead them to depression.
“Education has not given them wisdom” says Gopi. “If they cannot be of any help they should not become hindrance in other people’s life. I don’t see why they can’t go about their work instead of cribbing about other people’s business.”
The new building was inaugurated in 2009. Since then Gopi has found many sympathisers. The vegetable vendor provides them free vegetables. There are others who support them, but were unwilling to stand-up against the bureaucrats.
In Nethrodaya, Gopi attempts to blur the line between ‘normal’ and ‘challenged’. Things are provided according to the needs. The residents are given classes in computer, music and yoga.
Gopi finds respite in his family. His wife, Usha, pampers him. Theirs was a love marriage. He dotes on his ten-years-old daughter Sethulaxmi, who chirps around the house. To him she is his sunshine. Sethulaxmi remembers the time when her father invited her favourite actor Surya to Nethrodaya. “I love Surya! He came and he hugged me. I was four then. He said nice things about my daddy,” she rattles her fondest memory.
Each year there are a number of things that Gopi learns and a lot of things he prefers to forget. It helps him win his daily fight with frustration. For now, he plans to start a high school for visually challenged girls. Gopi proves that vision has many definitions.
