WordPress.com
----- Original Message -----
From: Nilesh Singit's Blog: Disability News Wolrdwide
To: [email protected]
Sent: Sunday, June 12, 2011 1:04 PM
Subject: [New post] 450 students have registered under the Persons with
Disabilities quota for a total of 1,600 seats.
450 students have registered under the Persons with Disabilities quota
for a total of 1,600 seats.
Nilesh Singit | June 12, 2011 at 13:03 | Tags: Delhi University, Edu,
UNCRPD | Categories: Disability, Education | URL: http://wp.me/pyosb-ha
Last Wednesday, the air-conditioned office of Delhi University’s Dean of
Students’ Welfare was a building people stepped into just to escape from the
sun. Fakir Chand was sweating, and it was more from trepidation than heat. “I
have all the documents,” he says, approaching Komal Kamra, member of the
University’s Equal Opportunity Cell. “Except the college-leaving certificate.
Those people at the Lady Shri Ram College said that my daughter does not need
one,” says Chand, taking out a pair of glasses from the pocket of his shirt.
Kamra, who uses a wheelchair, looks on silently as Chand carefully opens his
spectacles: the left-side is a spider-web of cracked glass. He puts them on,
and begins to rummage through a white cloth bag slung on his left forearm. The
Equal Opportunity Cell has the mandate of working with Persons with
Disabilities (PwD) and students admitted under the Scheduled Caste, Scheduled
Tribe and Other Backward Classes quotas. It counsels PwD candidates at the
office of the Dean of Students’ Welfare as they fill up their registration
forms for admission to the University’s colleges. This year, the registration
went on from May 28-June 8. About 450 students have registered under the
Persons with Disabilities quota for a total of 1,600 seats.
The yellow-coloured paper is not difficult to find among a lifetime’s
certificates kept inside the polythene cover. “But this is something we gave
you last year after you registered,” Kamra says after examining the paper.
“Where is your daughter?” she asks, looking around. Now, this was Chand’s
problem. He had all the documents for admission, but his daughter was not with
him. “She came in a different train, and I have not been able to locate her,”
he says. Sweating.
His daughter, Dharamwati, blind since birth, had been admitted to the
prestigious Lady Shri Ram College last year. “She got what she asked for: the
college, as well as the History course. They could not give her the hostel,
though. Most of it was closed for the Commonwealth Games,” says Chand. Chand’s
visually challenged daughter did not last a month in Delhi: “She tried staying
with a friend and her mother near the college, but could not adjust.” So on
August 13, less than a month after classes began at the University, Chand
withdrew his daughter and took her back home to Bijnor.
“I sent her to Delhi yesterday along with a relative. I arrived only this
morning, as I had some work left back in Bijnor,” says Chand, who is a salesman
with a pharmaceutical company. “I got off the train and went straight to (Lady)
Shri Ram College, because Dharamwati needs the college-leaving certificate. I
was told that we didn’t need one, as she withdrew before August 15,” says
Chand, as he borrows a mobile phone to dial a number written on a piece of
paper. Dharamwati’s phone is ‘out of coverage area.’
Kamra assures Chand he can come back with his daughter even a day late. “Today
is the last date for registrations,” he reminds her. She smiles: “It’s okay.
Just find your daughter and come with her tomorrow. She has to choose the
college and course herself.” Out of the Dean’s office, Chand continues to worry
about his daughter. Loudly, too. “She’s my third child. The ones older than her
got married,” he says, trying Dharamwati’s number repeatedly.
A hand clutches Chand’s arm. “Papa.” It turns out that the daughter and
relative—Arun, who refuses to take off his denim baseball cap—had figured that
Chand would be in the University. Dharamwati’s phone had run out of cash. Back
inside the DSW office, Chand sheepishly explains to the student counsellors how
his daughter located him because of his loud voice. After a long search for
documents, during which the counsellors had to send Dharamwati’s mark sheets
for copying, they are allotted a number in the queue. “It’s 47. We have to come
back in an hour,” says Chand, on his way out for lunch. Dharamwati is busy
running her fingers over the information brochure, in braille, that the
counsellors have given her.
The company of three is back in 30 minutes, and wait outside the door
uncertainly. Token number 30 is yet to be called. Chand walks around, fiddling
with the unbuttoned sleeves of his aquamarine shirt. There are two
holes—possibly made by a cigarette—on its bottom-left. Dharamwati has decided
to play her cards close to chest: she wouldn’t say whether she will opt for
Lady Shri Ram College again. “Last year, my percentage of 85 was very good. I
am told this time a lot of students have scored better marks,” is all that she
will say. Dharamwati passed out of the National Institute for the Visually
Handicapped in Dehra Dun, which she joined in class III.
The wait, the sun, and the suspense of it all gets to Chand. “I do not know of
any college except (Lady) Shri Ram. I just want her to get into a college with
a hostel,” he says. And then adds a caveat: “a girls’ college with a hostel.”
The number is finally called at 3.30 p.m., and only Dharamwati and Arun go to
the registration desk. “It’s best I don’t interfere; I don’t understand all
these things,” he says, giving the white cloth bag to Arun, thus parting with
it for the first time in the day. “It’s good if she can study here. UP colleges
do not know how to accommodate blind students. They don’t have facilities for
them, they don’t even give them scribes for exams,” he says, to no one in
particular.
One would have thought Dharamwati’s smile could not get any brighter, until she
emerged from the registration room. She’s pulled a fast one; and has chosen
Indraprastha College for Women as her priority. History is still her favourite
subject, mostly because it is an ‘easy’ optional for the Civil Services exams.
“My second preference is Miranda House,” she says, adding, “I have chosen Lady
Shri Ram too, but it’s not on top.”
The smile is firmly in place.
Indian Express
Add a comment to this post
WordPress.com | Thanks for flying with WordPress!
Manage Subscriptions | Unsubscribe | Reach out to your own subscribers
with WordPress.com.
Trouble clicking? Copy and paste this URL into your browser:
http://subscribe.wordpress.com
Search for old postings at:
http://www.mail-archive.com/[email protected]/
To unsubscribe send a message to
[email protected]
with the subject unsubscribe.
To change your subscription to digest mode or make any other changes, please
visit the list home page at
http://accessindia.org.in/mailman/listinfo/accessindia_accessindia.org.in
