A Brief History

1 Before you readThis is the story of a meeting between twoextraordinary people, both of them disabled , or differently abled as we now say. Stephen Hawkingis one of the greatest scientists of our time. He suffersfrom a form of paralysis that confines him to awheelchair, and allows him to speak only by punchingbuttons on a computer, which speaks for him in amachine-like voice. Firdaus Kanga is a writer andjournalist who lives and works in Mumbai. Kanga wasborn with brittle bones that tended to break easilywhen he was a child. Like Hawking, Kanga movesaround in a two great men exchange thoughts on what itmeans to live life in a wheelchair, and on how the socalled normal people react to the was my metaphor for England, and it wasstrange that when I left it had become altogether somethingelse, because I had met Stephen Hawking was on a walking tour through Cambridge thatthe guide mentioned Stephen Hawking, poor man, whois quite disabled now, though he is a worthy successorto Issac Newton, whose Chair he has at the university.

2 And I started, because I had quite forgotten that thismost brilliant and completely paralysed astrophysicist,astrophysicist:scholar ofastrophysics branch ofphysicsdealing withstars, planets, author of A Brief History of Time, one ofthe biggest best-sellers ever, lived the walking tour was done, I rushedto a phone booth and, almost tearing the cordso it could reach me outside, phoned StephenHawking s house. There was his assistant onthe line and I told him I had come in awheelchair from India (perhaps he thought Ihad propelled myself all the way) to writeabout my travels in Britain. I had to seeProfessor Hawking even ten minutes woulddo.

3 Half an hour, he said. From three-thirtyto four. A nd suddenly I felt weak all over. Growingup disabled, you get fed up with people asking you tobe brave, as if you have a courage account on whichyou are too lazy to draw a cheque. The only thingthat makes you stronger is seeing somebody like you,achieving something huge. Then you know how muchis possible and you reach out further than you everthought you could. I haven t been brave, said his disembodiedcomputer-voice, the next afternoon. I ve had no choice. Surely, I wanted to say, living creatively with thereality of his disintegrating body was a choice?

4 But Ikept quiet, because I felt guilty every time I spoke tohim, forcing him to respond. There he was, tapping atthe little switch in his hand, trying to find the words onhis computer with the only bit of movement left to him,his long, pale fingers. Every so often, his eyes wouldshut in frustrated exhaustion. And sitting opposite himI could feel his anguish, the mind buoyant with thoughtsthat came out in frozen phrases and sentences stiff ascorpses. A lot of people seem to think that disabled peopleare chronically unhappy, I said. I know that s not truemyself. Are you often laughing inside? buoyant:intenselyactive andvibrantA Visit to Cambridge97979797972022-23 Honeydew9898989898 About three minutes later, he responded, I find itamusing when people patronise me.

5 And do you find it annoying when someone like mecomes and disturbs you in your work? The answer flashed. Yes. Then he smiled his one-way smile and I knew, without being sentimental orsilly, that I was looking at one of the most beautifulmen in the first glimpse of him is shocking, because he is like astill photograph as if all those pictures of him inmagazines and newspapers have turned you see the head twisted sideways into a slump,the torso shrunk inside the pale blue shirt, the wastedlegs; you look at his eyes which can speak, still, andthey are saying something huge and urgent it is hardto tell what.

6 But you are shaken because you have seensomething you never thought could be you, like a lantern whose walls are worn sothin you glimpse only the light inside, is theincandescence of a man. The body, almost irrelevant,exists only like a case made of shadows. So that I, nobeliever in eternal souls, know that this is what each ofus is; everything else an accessory. What do you think is the best thing about beingdisabled? I had asked him earlier. I don t think there is anything good about being disabled. I think, I said, you do discover how much kindnessthere is in the world. Yes, he said; it was a disadvantage of his voicesynthesiser that it could convey no inflection, no shadesor tone.

7 And I could not tell how enthusiastically heagreed with time I shifted in my chair or turned my wristto watch the time I wanted to make every one of ourthirty minutes count I felt a huge relief andexhilaration in the possibilities of my body. How little itmattered then that I would never walk, or even :inner glow orlightaccessory:not essentialbut extra,thoughdecorativeinflection:rise and fall ofthe voice inspeakingtorso:upper part ofthe body2022-23A Visit to Cambridge9999999999I told him how he had been an inspiration beyondcliche for me, and, surely, for others did that thoughthelp him? No, he said; and I thought how foolish I was to your body is a claustrophobic room and the wallsare growing narrower day by day, it doesn t do muchgood to know that there are people outside smiling withadmiration to see you breathing still.

8 Is there any advice you can give disabled people,something that might help make life better? They should concentrate on what they are good at; Ithink things like the disabled Olympics are a waste of time. I know what you mean. I remembered the years I dspent trying to play a Spanish guitar considerably largerthan I was; and how gleefully I had unstringed it one half-hour was up. I think I ve annoyed youenough, I said, grinning. Thank you Stay. I waited. Have some tea. I can show you the garden. The garden was as big as a park, but StephenHawking covered every inch, rumbling along in hismotorised wheelchair while I dodged to keepout of the way.

9 We couldn t talk very much;the sun made him silent, the letters on hisscreen disappearing in the n hour later, we were ready to leave. I didn tknow what to do. I could not kiss him or cry. Itouched his shoulder and wheeled out into thesummer evening. I looked back; and I knew hewas waving, though he wasn t. Watching him,an embodiment of my bravest self, the one Iwas moving towards, the one I had believed infor so many years, alone, I knew that myjourney was over. For KANGA from Heaven on Wheelscliche :phrase or ideaused so oftenthat it losesits meaningclaustrophobic:very small andsuffocating( Claustrophobia is abnormalfear of beingin an enclosedspace)gleefully:very happily2022-23 Honeydew100100100100100 Comprehension CheckWhich is the right sentence?

10 1. Cambridge was my metaphor for England. To the writer,(i)Cambridge was a reputed university in England.(ii)England was famous for Cambridge.(iii)Cambridge was the real writer phoned Stephen Hawking s house(i)from the nearest phone booth.(ii)from outside a phone booth.(iii)from inside a phone time he spoke to the scientist, the writer felt guiltybecause(i)he wasn t sure what he wanted to ask.(ii)he forced the scientist to use his voice synthesiser.(iii)he was face to face with a I felt a huge in the possibilities of my body. In thegiven context, the highlighted words refer to(i)shifting in the wheelchair, turning the wrist.