Sangeeta Menon
Tata Tetleys Paresh
Palicha, with his special abilities, is the Stephen
Hawking of the world he inhabits
Differently-abled. Special.
These stop being just politically correct terms once you
have met Paresh Palicha. Twenty-nine years old and suffering
from 90-per-cent disability, Paresh makes for an inspiring
story of how much the human spirit can achieve. Born with
cerebral palsy, which damaged the mobility and speech
areas of his brain but luckily left his cognitive ability
intact, Paresh has not only come to terms with his disability
but overcome it as well. The past five years have seen
him at Tata Tetley, Kochi, where he works as an office
assistant.
"I remember
the day he came for the interview — his father stood
at that door carrying him on his shoulders," recalls
Venkatesh Naidoo, CEO, Tata Tetley. "He told me,
‘I can’t walk and I can’t talk properly, but I can work.’
We had no choice but to take him on as a trainee. In
less than two years he had proven himself so well that
he actually started demanding a higher position, purely
on merit."
Between nine in
the morning — when his father carries him into office
— and five in the evening, you will find Paresh in his
wheelchair, busy helping the production team prepare
MIS reports by feeding production data into the system.
Watching him at work, meticulously keying in each figure
with a single finger on his right hand, is at once an
inspiring and a humbling experience.
"Each day,
he saves the company a lot of money that would otherwise
have gone waste in time and output loss," says
Naidoo.
"It does get
a little monotonous at times, but with my physical disability
I did not expect to come even this far," says Paresh.
But before you start imagining that this is where he
plans to stay on, he quickly adds, "By the time
I retire, I want to have reached a decision-making level
in the company."
That shouldn’t be
difficult, given his sheer grit. "He has tremendous
determination," says Ragini Menon of Raksha, a
school for children with multiple disabilities. It is
at Raksha that Paresh learnt to accept his disability
and where, with constant counseling and encouragement,
he decided to appear for the SSC exams – a turning point
in his life. He went on to finish his B Com, which he
followed up with a course in computers.
Right now he is
perfecting the art of words with a diploma in creative
writing from the London-based Writer’s Bureau. Not that
he is new to the business of writing. He regularly contributes
articles on movies, art, food or any issue on which
he feels the need to express his opinion, to leading
newspapers like The Hindu and The Indian Express.
And if Paresh feels
very strongly about something, he doesn’t spare people
within the company either. So when Tetley products were
recently launched in the country and the company aired
the first of a series of TV commercials, he was quick
to shoot off a mail saying the ad 'reeked of a colonial
hangover'.
However, Paresh
sees the Tetley takeover itself as 'reverse colonialism',
a first step towards India becoming an economic superpower,
a process, he says with pride, triggered by the Tata
Group. "I joined this company because of the Tata
name,"
he declares.
For a person
who spent a large part of his childhood undergoing speech
therapy, Paresh is impressive in his articulateness
and clarity. Menon attributes this way with words to
Paresh's extensive reading, a habit cultivated from
his days at Raksha. She recalls how he used to borrow
books from her personal library, always surprising her
by asking for books that boys his age would not usually
read. Of late he has been reading Indian authors in
English. "Some of them are good, but most of them
are average," is how he sums up their contribution
to literature.
Movies are another
passion with Paresh, who dreams of studying at the Film
and Television Institute of India. Someday he wants
to write a script based on Arthur Hailey’s Final
Diagnosis, which he would love to have Mani Ratnam
direct. "He loves going to the movies and writing
reviews," says Charandas Palicha, his father.
But the real love
of his life is cricket. Paresh reminisces how he would
listen intently to the commentary on radio to find out
how his all-time favourite, Kapil Dev, was performing.
Of the current crop, he bets on Sourav Ganguly and Sachin
Tendulkar. While on cricket, he shares a secret with
you: his first, most cherished dream — even before he
dreamt of becoming a marketing man — was to become a
cricketer.
At the moment, though,
he is trying to increase his speed at keying in the
production figures. "It takes me three to five
minutes, while my colleagues take just two minutes,"
he says. "I try to be near perfect in everything
I do."
Somehow, you are
not surprised that he should say something like this.
By now you have an idea of the stuff he is made of,
his will to beat all odds. even as he retains his great
sense of humour and that brilliant, childlike smile.
Once again, Naidoo captures the spirit and achievement
of this man: "In our little world, Paresh is a
Stephen Hawking."

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