Deaf in Delhi: A Memoir

11. Travels and Other Adventures

11 Travels and Other Adventures I M A Y B E G I V I N G Y O U T H E I M P R E S S I O N T H A T I had no fun or adventures while living in Gagret. I did travel, and living in Gagret was an adventure unto itself. I traveled two or three times each year despite our limited means and the fact that no one in Gagret ever left the little village except as a member of a wedding party or on the way to the Shivbari, the open area outside the village where all the dead were cremated, for the last ride on four shoulders. Seeing places—near and far, strange and awesome—was in my blood. I visited family in other cities also; however, I will spare you the details of those trips. Still, there were some fun-filled and funny travel experiences . For example, there was the time when I wanted to see snow. ❖ Snow! No one in my village had ever seen snow. They did not even know what it looked like. The Hindi and Urdu words for snow and ice are the same—baraf. Whenever I had learned about baraf falling in the mountains and other places where the weather conditions were sufficient to produce it, I always had mistakenly assumed that what fell from the sky was ice or a steady stream of hail stones, with which I was very familiar. The idea of getting my head pelted with falling ice was not very appealing. My mistaken impression changed when I saw some beautiful pictures of snow-covered scenes in photographs in airline calendars, which B. K. Sharma, our brother-in-law, brought from his office. He worked for Air India and receivedcalendarsfromalmostalltheinternationalairlinesthat flewtoIndia. The powdery, gleaming white stuff that covered homes, trees, and meadows in those photographs was beautiful. My improving English also helped me learn that ice and snow were two different forms of baraf. 61 62 deaf in delhi Armed with this knowledge and tempted by the intoxicating beauty of snow in those photographs, I decided that I had to see it. My eldest sister, Brahmi, she of the milk cure for deafness, lived part of the year in Theog where the uncles of her husband, Roshan Lal Joshi, had a hardware store and owned some land. Spending a few weeks or even a month in Theog had several benefits: I could see snow; spend time with my nephew Prag, who was more of a friend than a nephew, as well as my two younger nephews Sat Pal and Paisu; and also get away from the drudgery of farm work. Now the problem was getting Babuji’s permission. I started with some innocent questions about baraf. Why did English have two separate words for baraf while Hindi had only one? When I asked this question, he was eating his dinner and talking to Bhabhi about something. He took a break from these two chores to answer me on his palm: “It could be because we do not have snow everywhere in India.” I let it rest there. A couple of days later, I brought up with him the issue of how there was much less work to be done on the farm during the winter. He agreed and told me I could join the servants in making ropes and doing other chores if I was bored. I was not looking for that answer and decided to approach him at a new angle. Since no other strategy presented itself, I decided to take the bull by the horns and wait for the right time to ask Babuji about going to Theog. One evening when he appeared in a good mood while eating his dinner, I said out of the blue, “Babuji, I want to see the snow!” He was puzzled at first, then treated this statement as yet another of my impossible dreams. He said, “I also want to see the snow,” and continued to talk to Bhabhi. I was not very happy with this slight of my great plans, and decided to push my luck. “You know they have snow in Theog,” I ventured. The cat was out of the bag. “No,” he said flatly. “You are not going to Theog.” To him, the matter was closed. I knew he had reasons to deny my request. I was deaf, and he did not like the idea...