Strange are the ways

THE FIRST time I came face to face with the reality of a 'different child' was when my first born was discovered to be autistic. Despite being a trained psychiatrist and special educator, I was just not prepared to be a mother to a special child. These things only happened to others. The 'why me' question haunted me depressingly, till I met Vikram or Vix as I called him.

Vix was one of my first patients when I started practicing after I lost my son. When he was brought in for special classes, Vix was a withdrawn, anti-social and severely autistic 3-year old. When we talk of children affected by autism we are referring to children who do not possess normal faculties. These are children who have one parameter of enhanced ability often to exclusion of all other faculties.

Vix was an exceptional child alright but how exceptional we were to know only later. He would become angry and throw tantrums when he couldn't get his way. The only ruling passion of his life was a game of cricket. He sat glued to the TV for hours without twitching a muscle or blinking an eye. He was like a child possessed by the sound and movement on the screen. When he couldn't contain his excitement he would walk up to the screen and start tracing the movement of the ball or the swish of the bat. Even in the midst of an awful temper tantrum, he would grow suddenly quiet, transformed miraculously (for this I am forever indebted to this glorious game!).

A great deal of my work also involved working with and counselling parents in the care of these children. Often parents like Vikram's, get deeply disappointed when their child does not show immediate improvement. Coping with any kind of impairment can be very difficult. Parents feel upset, depressed, and even angry at first. They often blame themselves for their child's disability, while some find comfort in spirituality.

During my time with him even I sometimes despaired of ever being able to teach him any skills. It was often distressing because at the end of the day I would find myself totally at a loss. As Vix grew up, his obsession for cricket grew with him. Though verbal communication was still difficult, he could make himself understood and he often mumbled or doodled the scores of each batsman and bowler much before the end of a match. Initially, we thought it was a coincidence but this became a regular feature with him. So much so that the nearby college students would often drop by to 'hear' his predictions so that they could make safe bets! He would sit in the classroom and plan an elaborate playing strategy even trying to mention the names of the various players. He could really actualise the event before it happened! An amazing feat that made the young boy a hero of sorts in the neighbourhood.

Of course the crowning moment came when this 12-year-old boy was asked to be the 'strategist' of the local college' s cricket team, a job he excelled in for the next seven years. His strategy was uncanny, and the college never lost a match in all the time he was leading them. The constant interaction with the team and the manner in which the young people of the town adulated him actually helped him to articulate better and gain a near normal coordination of his limbs. When, after his twenty-fourth successive win the college felicitated him at a special function and he was asked to say a few words, all Vix could mumble as he was given the microphone was, "its time we got on with the game!". A phrase he had oft heard and tried to repeat. Vix may not be known outside the little town he lives in, but I feel in his victory lies the victory of all such children.

Vikram's innings finally ended two years later and there wasn't a dry eye in that little town.

Stories like this give me the strength to do what I do, to care for children who have been shunned by society and family-because they are not challenged, they are special. Perhaps some of that stardust will descend upon those of us who are allowed to share our lives with them.

I no longer question, why me. Indeed, I am the one blessed here.

SARASWATI SOUNDERAJAN