Logo of Everyone is good at something

m.

m.
tanishq , andaman
&
nicobar

Mid shot of a grinning M. Tanishq (13) wearing a white T-shirt, standing in front of a dark pink wall. His black hair is short and spiky and he wears a gold chain. To the left, hung on the wall there is a cream porcelain image of a Ganesha elephant head with a golden crown.
Tanishq, wearing a navy blue V-necked sleeveless vest with light grey shoulder straps and piping around the neck and arms, sits on an ash-grey sofa. The wall behind him is bright yellow. His body is tilted and his right arm is flung across the broad armrest of the sofa. Also placed on the armrest is a tablet. With his left arm raised he is about to press the screen of the tablet with his right thumb.
Tanishq sits in a single-seater sofa upholstered in ash grey. There is another similar single sofa next to it, in which a huge red teddy bear is propped up in a seated position. Tanishq wears a white T-shirt and bright yellow shorts. His legs are crossed and he is barefoot with his right foot touching the floor. He is grinning and leaning slightly towards the teddy bear. Hanging on the bright yellow wall behind him there is a calendar, and a painting of seven galloping white horses against a blue backdrop, enclosed in a wooden frame. To the right of Tanishq’s sofa there is a shiny maroon curtain drawn across a doorway.
Tanishq sits in a chair at the open entrance to his house. A brown and white dog stands to the right and is about to walk forward. The chair, placed on rectangular metal flooring, is made of a thick beige fabric supported by a black steel frame. Tanishq wears a red full-sleeved knitted shirt with collar, and bright yellow shorts. He has crossed his legs and placed his arms over the broad armrests made out of the same thick fabric. The open wooden door is painted mint green.
Tanishq sits next to his father C. Muniratnam (42) on a sofa upholstered in dark brown. Muniratnam has a thick moustache and wears specs with thin rectangular brown frames. He wears a white, half-sleeved shirt without a collar and dark brown pants. Tanishq wears his white T-shirt and yellow shorts. Muniratnam is holding his son in an embrace with his left arm around Tanishq’s back and right arm in front such that both his hands hold both his son’s hands. Tanishq is half-sitting on his father’s left thigh. Hanging on the pinkish red wall behind them is an oval framed portrait of Tanishq sitting on a blue stool with his parents standing on either side.
Icon to view photos in full screen

“I am a huge fan of Tamil actor Vijay. I am adept at using my tablet”

M. Muniratnam and his wife Usha Rani from Port Blair share the caregiving duties for their 13-year-old son Tanishq quite smoothly. After Tanishq wakes up, Muniratnam helps him get ready and takes him to the grocery shop he runs. Usha, who is a primary school teacher at the local government school, returns home at 2.30 p.m. and takes over.
 
Muniratnam’s father A. Chinmayananda used to work in the Public Works Department in Chennai and moved to Port Blair in the 1970s. “We three were born here – my older sister, younger brother and I,” he says. “I have studied till 12th Standard.” In 2008 his marriage was arranged to Usha, a relative, whose father too hailed from Chennai. Usha is also a middle child and has two sisters, all born and raised in the Andamans. Muniratnam’s father died in January 2024 and his mother Palaniamma now lives with him.
 
In 2010, when Usha conceived, she went for regular medical checkups at the government hospital and expected to have a normal delivery. On 9 June 2011 when she went for a routine checkup two weeks before her due date, the doctor said she should get admitted immediately. She experienced no labour pains that day or the next. After receiving injections to induce labour she spent an exhausting 24 hours with no result. On 13 June, after pushing as much as she could, “the baby came half way out and then got stuck,” she recalls. She underwent a vacuum-assisted delivery, in which a suction cup is used to extract the baby.
 
Tanishq, who didn’t cry when he was born, was placed in a ventilator. The doctor later told the parents that he would have a developmental disability. The hospital certified that Tanishq had Cerebral Palsy (CP). “My world came crashing down,” Muniratnam admits frankly. “But one needs to move forward. And so we did.”
 
CP had impacted Tanishq’s locomotor skills and he couldn’t use his hands and limbs effectively. It had also affected his ability to speak. The doctor recommended physiotherapy and speech therapy, but at the time the Andamans had poor medical facilities. The couple made frequent trips to Chennai to take Tanishq to a physiotherapist and a speech therapist. After 2020, when the Covid pandemic struck, their trips were reduced to twice a year.  
 
Despite physiotherapy, Tanishq’s mobility is restricted and he cannot engage in physical activities without his parents’ help. But his speech has improved and his mind is sharp. Besides being coached by his parents, he is tutored by a helpful 17-year-old neighbour, Akshaya, and has reached Class 8 level now. Muniratnam says that every year a teacher from the nearby government school comes home to check his progress and give him a question paper to answer.

Tanishq doesn’t get a chance to meet his cousins but he is very attached to Akshaya who takes good care of him. He is choosy about what he eats; he loves biryani, which his parents order just for him. In his dad’s grocery shop he plays games or watches YouTube on his tablet. He is crazy about Tamil actor Vijay! “He loves Vijay’s movies – his dance moves, his song sequences, his acting,” says Muniratnam. “He can go on watching his songs and films umpteen times a day. On YouTube he constantly checks if any new Vijay movie has come out. And when it does, he has to watch it immediately. If anyone criticises Vijay he gets very angry!”
 
The parents say with one voice, “My only wish is that he becomes independent.” Like any other parent of a disabled child, Muniratnam says, “Today we, his parents, are there to look after him. Tomorrow we will not be there. I only want him to be able to take care of himself. That is my only prayer.”

Photos:

Vicky Roy

©Copyrights - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/