Deaf community in India

At the turn of the last century, accounts of various communities in British India came into light (primarily as a part of colonial project). One such account that aroused interest especially amongst sign linguists is about the Angami Nagas. Allen (1905) in Assam District Gazetteers, Vol. IX, Naga Hills and Manipur claims that deaf-mutism amongst the Angami Nagas in the Naga Hills was eight times higher than the national average, where every second person was deaf-mute. Further interest was stimulated by Hutton’s (1921) account of the use of sign language by the deaf as well as hearing in the Angami villages, for communication between different villages speaking different languages. Although there is no means by which this claim of deaf villages may now be verified a hundred years later, Miles (1998) suggests that this may have been true, given the prevalence of Iodine deficiency disorders - often a causal factor resulting deafness - in the mountainous regions of South Asia. O’Malley (1907) reports about higher prevalence of deaf-mutism in Champaran. Similarly, Ibbetson (1883) reports the high prevalence in some hilly and mountainous districts of Punjab, and Srinivasan’s (1964) biomedical study at Bettiah, Bihar. Deaf mutuism in Guntur, Andhara Pradesh is reported due to genetic factor promoted by cultural practises (Mazumdar 1972).

In contemporary times, as well, reports claiming an exclusive deaf villages where sign language is used as a medium of communication among the villagers have occasionally been made. One such report published in 1991 by a journalist, Shivananda Kalave is about the two tribal villages, Basanavakoppa and Sullali (generally called ‘Silent Village’) in the remote forest tract in the Uttara Kannada district, Karnataka. The population of these villages is more than 500, of which 30% of the population comprises of deaf people. After reading this report, a Rotarian Dr. Desai in his campaign to eradicate deafness launched the Project Deaf India was launched from Mysore in 1999, in collaboration with the Rotary Club of Newport Balboa, District 5320, USA, and the Gallaudet University, Washington D.C. It was claimed that multiple causes - hereditary, personal hygiene, environment, nutrition, and cultural and social practices - were behind this high rate of deafness for generations of inhabitants of these villages (Source: www.projectdeafindia.org). A macro-level study has reported “they [deaf] were communicating with gesture and lip reading, a skill passed down along generations all these years” (http://projectdeafindia.org/ report).

To ascertain the facts, I visited the villages in spring 2005, along with Debra Grossman from UCLA who was making a film on Deaf community in India, and Ramakrishna, a Deaf Indian Sign Language teacher and activist. A local resident informed us that the village population is comprised of the Siddhis and the Gaurs. We found that none of the villagers were in fact deaf, except a boy and an old lady who are hard of hearing.

Our visit to the village school and other places, followed by a discussion with the teachers and the different members of the villages, led us to believe that there is no deaf community in these villages. The villagers disputed any high incidence of deafness in their villages and asserted that people were conspiring to get benefit out of it. Moreover, they had serious grievances about this characterisation, as they said that the villagers faced problems in matrimonial alliances, given the scare that there was a genetic factor responsible for deafness in their children. Our discussion with the teachers of other deaf schools and institutes in other parts of the district made it explicit that the claim was a hoax. This claim is made on the basis of my Ph.D. field trip, spring 2005. (The field report in a CD ROM is available with the author).

This is not to suggest that all such reports are false. Reports from Dadkhai -- a remote village in Doda district of Jammu and Kashmir and called by the locals as “the cursed village” -- deafness has prevailed for more than a half of century, reportedly affecting 40% of the population (ANI/Reuters 9th.July, 2001, Reference 7449/01, Tape 7320). A recent report (Hindustan Times, 9th.Feb., 2007) suggests that 24% of the village population is deaf, including newborn as well. The Central Health and Medical Education Ministry has deputed doctors from the All India Institute of Medical Sciences to identify the cause; however, little is known about the sign language that people use to communicate with each other.

The existence of such populations once again highlights the need for both a survey of the Indian deaf community and their sign language(s), as very little is known about either the people or their languages. New Linguistic Survey of India (NLSI) focuses on these issues. But we don't know where it is cornered, in which file, in which/whose office, and why.

Bollywood & Dollywood

In India, Hindi cinema (Bollywood in popular parlance -- a world of its own) is the most popular and culturally validated source of entertainment. Its representation of different persons and communities is therefore of great cultural and political significance, and these often generate political and communal controversies. Hindi films have also portrayed deaf (I take this liberty to call Deaf world as Dollywood) characters a few times over the century of its existence -- not only as stereotypes, but also as protagonists. I consider four popular movies of their time to assess the socio-cultural representation of deaf, sign language, and the perceptions about them they have given rise to.

One of the earliest movies in which deaf characters are protagonists is Koshish (An effort) directed by Gulzar, and released in 1972. Starring two widely known actors of the film industry, Sanjeev Kumar and Jaya Bhaduri, the film is a sensitive portrayal of a deaf couple’s romance and the struggles and hardships they have to face to survive with dignity. The characterisation and setting is natural enough to touch its audience, even though the director has taken the cinematic liberty to use written language as a mode of exchange between the characters, (although sign is also used). The film also shows the deaf couple’s yearning for a hearing child and the loss of their first child as they were not able to hear their child’s cry on that fatal night. The most impressive and radical proposal that surfaces in the film is about matrimonial alliance of the protagonist’s hearing son with a deaf girl, thus countering the prevalent notions about matrimony in Indian society. It is one of the most progressive of all films on deaf characters, where the deaf are not just stereotypical characters arousing sympathy, but are presented as an important and equal force in the creation of a more sensitive and modern Indian society.

Khamoshi (Silence) (1996), directed by Sanjay Leela Bhansali is a story of a hearing daughter of a deaf couple who aspires to become a singer. The national award winning actors Nana Patekar and Seema Biswas are the deaf couple. The film shows their yearning for, and joy over, a hearing child and how this child becomes the deaf couple’s support and voice in their later life. Though sign is used at various points in the movie, it is not Indian Sign Language (henceforth, ISL).

In contrast, Black (2005) by the same director is a story set in pre-independent India of an Anglo-Indian deaf-blind girl and her tutor starring Rani Mukerjee and Amitabh Bachchan, respectively. Initially, the film opens with an impression that a deaf-blind child is possessed by a spirit, rather than a child who is not able to make sense of things around her because of deafness and blindness. As the movie moves on, we find that she learns and uses tactile sign language in the movie; however, this is not ISL but rather some signs from American Sign Language (ASL). The movie ends on a positive note -- she becomes a graduate after many years and gets some degree of independence in her life, and starts to help her tutor who suffers from Alzheimer’s disease.

Director Nagesh Kukunor’s Iqbal (2005) is about a 20 year old talented deaf boy from a village who aspires to play as a bowler for the Indian national team. The movie is about his struggle and journey to become a bowler in the Indian team. The lead character of the movie, Iqbal, played by Shreyas Talpade, is a school drop-out as his farmer family was not able to send him to a deaf school in Mumbai. The social setting of the movie shows that the deaf boy has no friends in his village, and his closest companion is his sister, who signs and interprets for him (although Iqbal can lip read slow speech). The director has successfully integrated sign and speech in the movie, where many of the main characters sign and speak. Interestingly, signs are not limited to gestures, and many of the signs are from ISL. Like in Koshish, Iqbal is not a character whose sole motive is to inspire sympathy; rather, it is his talent as a bowler that the film ultimately highlights, and Iqbal’s struggle is to play cricket is as much a young person’s struggle against conventional fathers who do not understand or accept her/his aspirations, as it is about a deaf person’s desire to succeed in a sport that is the hegemony of the hearing. The movie thus also sends a message that Indian cricket as a sport must be a sport that values the talent (rather the hearing or deafness) of its players, thereby questioning current Indian reality, where there are separate teams for hearing and deaf players.

These three films all had a significant impact on societal attitudes. Most prominently in recent times, Iqbal enthused Indian children so much that the National Council of Education Research and Technology now acknowledges sign language as one of the mediums for primary education. The National Curriculum Framework 2005, which endorses child-centric education, advocates ISL based education of the Hearing Impaired. This notwithstanding, none of these films portray the existence of a deaf/Deaf community for their protagonists, who are all alone (or at best with their partners) amidst a hearing society. Moreover, these films have had little effect in permanently altering social attitudes towards deafness as social stigma. A case in point is Ashvin Kumar’s short film The Little Terrorist, which was India’s official entry for Oscar in short film category in 2005. The film is about a Pakistani boy who crosses into the Indian territory while playing. As the story progresses, the Indian family hides him from the patrolling party. In one incident, he pretends to be deaf to avoid the queries of the patrolling officers, and in the process brings to the fore all the stereotypes of deafness as, as signifying social isolation and diminished intelligence.

During a screening of The Little Terrorist at JNU (11.04.08), I asked Ashvin about the lack of political correctness of this portrayal, and he justified as being reasonable in the context, and without an intention to offend. He welcomed my lone intervention and said if it made people to react, then that was a positive development. May be I am not alone next time.

Is ISL a non-configurational language?

A fundamental assumption underlying in the Principles and Parameters (henceforth, P&P) framework is that all languages have some basic, syntactically defined constituent order, which form the basic word order depending upon the setting of the word order (henceforth, WO) parameter. It is usually recognized that this order may be altered somewhat for pragmatic purposes.

The ordering of the constituents will be examined in Indian Sign Language (henceforth, ISL) to determine its WO, if there is any as assumed in the P&P approach. The approach taken to determine the WO in ISL shall be based on the clause as well on sentence with respect to the transitivity of the verb and the verb typology.

A. Intransitive sentence with the plain verb:

1. YESTERDAY INDEX FRONT RUN
He ran yesterday.

The WO is S O V.

B. Transitive sentence with plain verb:

2. R-A-M INDEX IPSI (LOC) S-I-T-A INDEX CONTRA (LOC) LIKE
Ram likes Sita.

3. FEM- S-I-T-A INDEX IPSI R-A-M INDEX CONTRA (LOC) LIKE
Ram likes Sita.

In the single elicitation, the above sentence (3) is ambiguous with regard to the subject and the object since both are [+ animate, + human]. If one of the arguments is [- animate], the sentence is unambiguous. Therefore, the animacy hierarchy operates in ISL in the plain verb constructions. The animacy hierarchy can be formulated as:

[+ animate + human] < [+ animate – human] < [- animate].

However, the WO is: i. S O V ii. O S V iii. S V iv. O V v. V

The later three orders are found in the discourse, where the presuppositionality and the topic are established.

C. Transitive sentence with the regular and the backwards verbs:

4. INDEX SELF X 2 FEM-INDEX IPSI (LOC) SELF-HELP-IPSI
5. FEM-INDEX IPSI (LOC) INDEX SELF X 2 SELF-HELP-IPSI
6. INDEX IPSI SELF-HELP-IPSI
7. FEM-INDEX IPSI (LOC) SELF-HELP-IPSI
8. SELF-HELP-IPSI
I help her.

9. INDEX SELF INDEX FRONT FRONT-INVITE-SELF
10. INDEX FRONT INDEX SELF FRONT-INVITE-SELF
11. INDEX FRONT FRONT-INVITE-SELF
12. INDEX SELF FRONT-INVITE-SELF
13. FRONT-INVITE-SELF
I invite you.

The WO is: i. S O V ii. O S V iii. S V iv. O V v. V

D. Ditransitive with the regular and the backwards verb:

14. FACE-ARC IPSI (LOC) FEM-INDEX CONTRA (LOC) ONE MUG IPSI-GIVE-CONTRA
They gave a mug to her.

15. FEM-INDEX CONTRA (LOC) FEM-INDEX IPSI (LOC) ONE BOOK IPSI-SEND-CONTRA
She sent a book to her.

16. FEM-INDEXIPSI BOOK MASC-INDEX CONTRA CONTRA-GIVE-IPSI
He gave a book to her.

17. BOOK FEM-INDEXIPSI MASC-INDEX CONTRA CONTRA-GIVE-IPSI
He gave a book to her.

In the ditransitive sentence with the regular or with the backwards verbs, the possible ordering of the constituents are as the following:

i. S O DO V ii. S DO O V iii. O S DO V iv. O DO S V v. DO S O V vi. DO O S V vii. S DO V viii. DO S V ix. O DO V x. DO O V xi. DO V xii. DO V (with incorporated DO)

E. Complementation

In the subordinate clause, the complement of the verb (both infinite as well as finite) can appear on the either side as shown in the following sentences:

18. INDEX SELFx2 THINK MASC-INDEX IPSI CLEVER
19. MASC-INDEXIPSI CLEVER INDEX IPSI INDEX SELFx2 THINK
I think he is clever.

The WO in the subordinate clause is as follows:

i. SVO ii. OSV

The WO shows that there is no uniform WO in ISL, and the NP arguments, which are overt for topic can be dropped (discussed later). From the above WO as seen in ISL, one thing that stands out alone is its nonconfigurational properties. Hale (1983) described three properties as being characteristic of nonconfiguarational languages in a pretheoretical sense: relative freedom of WO, the pervasive dropping of noun phrase arguments, and the existence of discontinuous expressions (Baker 1996: 9-10). In ISL the above mentioned first two properties hold.

In ISL, as seen above single verbs can stand alone as predication in themselves. Eg. SELF-GIVE-FRONT (I give you), SELF-INVITE-FRONT (You invite me). The agreement verb shows overt obligatory agreement with the subject and the object arguments. However, the affixation of the argument is not uniform i.e. it is subject verb object (SVO) in the regular agreement verbs and object verb subject (OVS) in the backwards agreement verbs. The order of affixation is rigidly fixed with respect to the verb typology (see chapter V). This shows that ISL is a head marking language.

Moreover, the affixation of the argument does not hold across all the verbs as in the case of the plain verbs. Infact, ISL verb is morphologically complex. All the verbs in ISL have the DIR of the pMOV in its underlying form but the surface manifestation is filtered out by the semantics of the verb, transitivity, theta-roles, the phonological and the phonetic factors (see chapter V). In other words, the null morpheme (zero morpheme) is posited in such verbs. This assumption posits towards Jelinek’s (1984) Pronominal Argument Hypothesis (henceforth, PAH) and Baker’s (1996) Polysynthesis Parameter.

Jelinek’s (1984) approach to configurationality holds that the inflectional morphemes on a verb count as the subject and object of the verb. These morphemes are argument morphemes (also known as pronominal affixes) and incorporated roots. These are the kinds of morphemes on a verb that are suitable for expressing an argument of that verb (Baker 1996: 15). These morphemes are the arguments of the verb, receiving a theta-role from it directly. Thus, the verb’s theta-role must be assigned to an appropriate phrase by theta-criterion. The conceptual content of the Polysynthesis Parameter i.e. Morphological Visibility Condition (MVC) proposed by Baker (1996: 17) states:

A phrase X is visible for theta- role assignment from a head Y only if it is coindexed with a morpheme in the word containing Y via: i. an agreement relationship, or ii. a movement relationship.

Let us examine ISL with the properties of polysynthetic languages. ISL share a large number of properties of polysynthetic languages.

i. Free word order and massive pro-drop.
ii. The argument adposition is lacking in ISL as verbs do not subcategorize for adposition arguments, but by conflation in the Lexicon like in Mohawk (Baker 1996: 418).
iii. The infinitive is not found in ISL like in Mohawk (Baker 1996), Ainu (Shibatani 1990) and Nahuatl (Andrews 1975) (as cited in Baker 1996).
iv. Wh movement takes place.
v. The plural morpheme need not be manifested in the noun root. The verb morphology can show plurality as in Mohawk (Baker 1996: 90)

In polysynthetic languages like Mohawk (Baker 1996: 21), the third person neuter DO does not show overt agreement with the verb. Hence, the null morpheme is posited, which is restricted to third person neuter. However, in ISL, the overt DO does not show agreement with all the R-expressions irrespective of animacy. In all the ditransitive sentences with the overt DO as shown above the DO remains (the incorporation of DO is rare) in an argument position. In the incorporation of the DO, which is statistically rare, the incorporation is of the classifier rather than of noun DO. As incorporation is one of the agreement morphemes, but the overt DO remains in the argument position in case of incorporation, too in ISL. To posit that the incorporated DO absorb case and consequently, the overt DO is dislocated to an adjunct position maintains that there is null morpheme for DO in the verb. Since, incorporation is rare and none of the DO show agreement in verb, to posit null morpheme is a burden for acquisition as the child finds no positive evidence in any instance. However, the DO is left dislocated due to the case filter. Thus, in ISL, incorporation does not interact with agreement. Hence, ISL is not a polysynthetic language as obligatoriness of the agreement morpheme is a property of polysynthetic language (Baker 1996: 89). Due to the overt agreement, other overt NPs are in adjunct position because the overt agreement absorbs the case feature of the head that it attaches to (see Baker 1991a). As a result, overt NPs cannot appear in corresponding argument positions. They appear at clause peripheral positions where Case filter does not apply (see Baker 1996 for fuller discussion). In ISL, we find only left dislocation of the NP arguments unlike in polysynthesis languages like Mapudungun, where the dislocated NPs are found in the either side of the clause.

In the polysynthetic languages like Mohawk, both the agreement morphemes and the lexical roots count as rendering an argument visible. In ISL, the agreement relationship holds but do not have incorporation phenomena at all or have sporadic incorporation that does not interact with agreement as it lacks the obligatoriness of the agreement of the DO with the verb. In ISL, the overt DO and the incorporated DO classifier can co-occur unlike in Mohawk, where one restricts the other. Thus, ISL confirms to Jelinek’s (1984) theory of nonconfigurationality. Therefore, ISL is a nonconfigurational head marking language like Navajo, Walpiri, Salish, etc. (see Baker 1996: 17-18) but not a polysynthetic language like Mohawk, Mapudungun, etc. Hence, the setting of the proposed Polysynthesis Parameter is "NO" for ISL.

In ISL, the complement clauses appear in the argument position governed by verb that selects them i.e. on the right of the verb. On the other hand, the object NP cannot occur in the argument position i.e. on the right of the verb. The occurrence of the object NP is barred because ISL verb in its underlying form has the DIR of the pMOV, which is an agreement morpheme (see chapter 5). As the agreement absorbs the case of the object NP, it is forced to be dislocated to the adjunct position, where the Case filter does not apply. Hence, the complement clauses differ from the object NP in ISL.

In ISL, the overt NP-subject and the overt NP-object are left dislocated due to the Case filter as the case is absorbed by the agreement affix on the verb. As the overt NP-direct object does not show agreement on the verb but gets case through the complex predicate. However, this does not form well-formed sentence. As we have seen above that the argument affixes absorb case forcing the overt NPs to be dislocated where the Case filter does not apply. Similarly, case assigned overt DO need to be left of the verb i.e. SVO to derive well-formed sentence. However, in ISL scrambling is allowed. The overt NPs, Tense/NP adverb as well as are scrambled in different positions.

As seen in the above in the well formed sentences, the verb is always in the clause final position. The ISL verb always occurs in the clause final position due to the relative phonological weight of the verb. Thus, a well formed sentence is derived. In this respect, the nonconfigurationality with respect to DO derives from the case marking like in Hindi-Urdu, not from agreement like in polysynthetic languages. On the other hand, the nonconfigurationality of the overt NP-subject and the overt NP- object derives from the agreement. In this sense, in ISL, the parameter setting for MVC is ‘NO’.

To summarize, nonconfigurationality is derived through two ways in ISL:

a. Dislocation of case absorbed overt NPs i.e. subject and object.
b. Scrambling.

This proves that ISL is not a polysynthetic language but certainly a nonconfigurational language.

Book Review: Zeshan (2000)

Zeshan, Ulrike. 2000. Sign Language in Indo-Pakistan: A description of a signed language. Philadelphia/Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Pg. xii + 178. Hb. Crown. Alkaline paper. Price: not mentioned.

Reviewed by Samar Sinha (2003).

Sign Language in Indo-Pakistan: A description of a signed language (SLIP) is a revised master’s thesis (University of Cologne) in light of the author’s latest research results. The title of the book draws one’s attention towards ‘sign’ and ‘signed’, which, in principle, have no distinction in the sign linguistics literature. SLIP, dedicated to the Deaf communities in India and Pakistan, deserves its long due publication on sign language of the sub-continent and similarly deserves review more than in the standard conventional length of a review article.

Of the five chapters, in the first chapter, Introduction, Zeshan points out that the linguistic study of sign language (SL) in India and Pakistan is virtually unstudied. Apart from a handful of linguistic works so far in these countries, the study of sign language is confined main within institutions imparting special education.

Based on her fieldwork in Karachi and New Delhi, she asserts that despite regional variations in signs, there is one underlying grammar of Pakistan Sign Language (PSL) (as used by ABSA Research Group 1987, NISE 1991,1994, Sir Syed Deaf Association 1989, Zeshan 1996) and Indian Sign Language (ISL). Hence, she calls the sign languages of these colonial cousins as Indo-Pakistan Sign Language (IPSL), rather than Indo-Pakistani Sign Language. Her claim that there is a unitary sign language in India is based on Vasishta, Woodward & Wilson (VWW) (1978) and in passing but not explicitly illustrated to support it. The different studies on lexicon points towards greater similarity (Woodward 1993, ISL Dictionary 2001). At the present state of knowledge about sign language in India, any claim about one sign language in India is merely speculative rather than empirically supported when we account Deaf communities of the Silent Village, Karnataka, and a village in Mizoram. On the other hand, Jepson’s (1991) claim about Rural ISL is based on a rural deaf individual rather than the rural Deaf community. The regional lexical variations of particular signs in Pakistan are photographically shown.

With reference to post 1960 developments in Pakistan, Signed Urdu (SU), which she claims as ‘Urdu based variety of IPSL’, is not a variety of IPSL but an invented manually coded Urdu structure using IPSL signs, modified signs, and neologism. Had the author used the contrast between SU and IPSL, it would have been much easier to understand the difference between the two. A reminder, India is not far behind in a similar ‘the mask of benevolence’ effort, funded by UNICEF in developing Indian Signing System (ISS). Zeshan mentions the reality about deaf education in India citing Deshmukh (1996). Apart from the weekly sign news telecast on the national channel, the GOI has not formulated any substantial policy and programmes for the empowerment of the Indian Deaf community. The linguistic status of sign language in these two countries is a constitutional question rather than ‘not an officially recognized language’ (p.8) as mentioned in the book. In the later part of the chapter, she briefly discusses her research methodology, and pros and cons of her work.

In the second chapter, The Signs, the author discusses about IPSL handshapes (HSs) and proposes its preliminary inventory based on the frequency of occurrence in her corpus rather than on phonetic principle. Her classifications of HS, which are photographically shown, are basic, central, marginal, problematic, and meaningful. The problematic HS, which are ‘rare and unclear that their existence in IPSL is questionable’ (p.24), do exist but not found in her corpus since her data on wh-question is scarce (p.10). The author claims that classifier HSs are not found in IPSL based on VWW (1978), and analytical problem, and consequently disapproves Boyes-Braem’s (1990) typological claim that the classifiers are found in all sign languages investigated so far. Contrary to her claim, classifier HSs are found, and are incorporated into a class of verbs signs. On the other formational parameters, viz. location (signing space), movement, and orientation, and phonological operations, there is not a single line discussion. This chapter, however, does not provide basic essential descriptions of sub-lexical structure and organisation, and is thus far from being true to the title of the book.

Sign Families, which basically include opposites, homonyms, polysemes, synonyms, and compounds, are well described with examples and illustrations. Apart from these, the signs that share one of the formational parameters constantly that are also a constant semantic element (Generalised Meaningful Parameter Values, Woll 1983: 40). IPSL time-line in contrast with the American Sign Language (ASL) time-line is well discussed with illustrations enriching the content on the topic.

Zeshan also discusses the signs that show evident connection with Hindi-Urdu mouth patterns. The mouth pattern, e.g. 8 (p.43), is used to disambiguate signs, hence, phonemic. To the contrary, in pg.49, the Karachi and the Indian signers produce the mouth patterns of ‘allah’ and ‘bhagwan’ or ‘god’ with the sign GOD, respectively. There are two or more mouth patterns for a sign not as a synonym but points towards the signer’s socio-linguistic, religious background. This suggests, simply, mouth pattern is not an integral part of IPSL, unlike other non-manual components of sign. Unlike mouth gestures, English fingerspelling, and initialisation and/or abbreviation are undoubtedly an effect and influence of institution. Along with the variation in the exact shape of English fingerspelling, we find typologically two sets of English fingerspelling – ambicheric and mixed (see Stokoe 1974: 346) among the users of IPSL. With the passage of time, it is observed that fingerspelled signs are further abbreviated and/or initialised, which again are nativised as sign, whose etymological source is difficult to ascertain e.g. E-MAIL.

It is interesting to note that IPSL has identical signs for BIRD, DUCK as in ASL; HOUSE as in BSL, and HELP as in the both. The author is struck off by this commonality, and fancies about its genetic relationship and/or lexical borrowing rather than by iconicity. Further, she appals/stupefies her reader by treating HOUSE as a loan sign and remarks “…in India and Pakistan because all roofs are flat…” (p. 41). Moreover, it needs to be understood that not only “Indian Hindus,” but also all of the sub-continent calls God as ‘upar wala’ (the Above One). The British colonisation is not sufficient to say that BSL has an areal influence over IPSL. On the other hand, the English fingerspelling as a result of institutional effort is an issue for exploration. On the non-manual components of signs, Zeshan discusses its grammatical relevance, and raises issue for further investigation. She briefly discusses iconic signs using Mandell’s (1977) classification, and claims that half of the IPSL lexicon is iconic. She concludes with an established note that iconicity exists along a continuum.

In the third chapter, Morphology, she discusses the difficulties in word-class analysis and formal characteristics, which leads her to question the applicability of syntactic universals in IPSL. Although she claims that IPSL does not make distinctions in word class, in fact, her data falsifies this analysis. The N-V distinction is in fact marked by movement (and intensity [NISE 1991])- the lexeme FLY with movement is a verb TO FLY (e.g. 39, p.56), but as a stationary sign is an AEROPLANE/AIRLINE (e.g. 56, p.101).

The use of interpersonal space is grammatically relevant in sign language and is one of the sign formation parameters. Zeshan classifies IPSL signs into three types: positioning, directional, and movement. The former two are described explicitly with examples unlike the third one. Fig. 62, p.60 shows verb TO FLY in its citation form, it is not noun AIRPLANE as in the text. In IPSL, XATAM (B) is a verb for “finish/end’, and XATAM (A) and HO_GAYA are used to mark perfect (Zeshan’s completive) aspect. XATAM (A) is grammaticised sign from XATAM (B). HO_GAYA is a weak drop form of XATAM (B) showing the phonetic loss of the non-dominant hand and has further grammaticised as an enclitic to the preceding sign (see Sinha in prep).

Other aspectual markers are also discussed in detail. The IPSL lexicon does not specify number for nouns, and plurality is marked by repetition of the sign in space, or quantifiers, and/or numerals. Zeshan concludes that the repetition is for plurality with noun signs and for distributive aspect with verbs. However, her conclusion mismatches with the morphemic translation she provides. E.g. 20, p.66 would mean ‘I have tried several times with my certificate in private firms’ rather than ‘…at several private (firms)’, and the morphemic glossing in the e.g. 22, p. 66 is not distributive but plural.

However, Zeshan’s discussion of the morphological processes in IPSL is incomplete. Although she does describe number signs and the incorporation of the first four digits, she does not discuss direct object incorporation further (as evidenced by the incorporated classifier HS of direct objects with verbs like LENA (to take) and DENA (to give)). She also discusses two sign formation processes - fusion and compounding, but does not mention other processes like reduplication, fingerspelling, hedging, and aerial writing.

The fourth chapter is a syntactic description. The sentence and clause boundaries are based on her bilingual (bimodal) informant’s translation indicated by the Urdu propositions. Mentioning the lack of methodology essential for syntactic study, she ‘mostly prefer to speak of regularities rather than rules’ (p.88) using semantic roles. However, I will use formal syntactic terms in the review. The WO tendency is inclined towards the SOV. In fact, IPSL is SVO with asymmetry between matrix and embedded clauses (Sinha 2003). She, further, points that the most semantically prominent sign is clause initial, and labels the structure as topic-comment with the semantically prominent sign appearing overtly again in the comment as peculiarity though information on non-manual parameters even crude is not glossed. Moreover, it points towards discourse structure rather than information packaging strategy and structure within clausal syntax.

On tense, the author writes that there is no temporal inflection but indicated by clause initial NP adverbs of time. Contrary to her expectation as inflection, in IPSL HS, which marks the time unit incorporates with the tense and results into NP adverbs of time. The similar tense marking system is found in Nootka (Comrie 1985: 13). The discourse initial tense in the informational neutral structure is followed unless new tense is established along the time line for non-present and present. IPSL has present-non-present distinction in which the former is unmarked, and its overt marking is for emphatic or for contrast.

Zeshan briefly discusses imperatives, negatives, emphatics, and existential particles, and invites further research. She illustrates some compounds as modifying constructions discussing the headedness of the construction in the chapter on syntax rather than in the previous chapter. She, further, raises an issue of hyponymy of the two adjacent signs, on which she renders- ‘to classify rather that (than) modify the other sign’ (p.99; italics mine for typological error). Her speculation directs toward mini-topicalisation type constructions but does not provide sentential constructions in which they are found to think further.

The author discusses loci, grammatically relevant points in the signing space, and summarises the localisation strategies employed in IPSL and ASL discourse. She discusses various possibilities of referring to loci- directionality, positioning, indexing, eye gaze, and role-play, and inconsistencies involved in it with reference to loci in the signing space, which is under described in the book. The non-manual articulatory channels, their forms and functions in polarity, interrogatives, and in the conditional clause are investigated concluding with a list of her queries and a familiar note ‘further research is needed’ (p. 116). Towards the end of the chapter, Zeshan’s unfeigned remark makes her reader simpering.

In the final chapter, Discourse strategies, she discusses discourse strategies- contrastive use of signing space for places, situations, and tenses, handedness, and perspectives using space drawing analogy with stage.

SLIP is enriched with bibliography, index, appendices, sample text, Devnagari and Perso-Arabic transcription, abbreviations, manual alphabets, 300 word dictionary, graphics, photographs, content, tables, and with cross-linguistic references from numerous sign languages. She uses Hindi-Urdu words in Latin letters for sign text. The printer’s devil and the copy errors abound the book from cover to cover. Importantly, in the spine and the end cover, the title is Indo-pakistan rather than as in the front cover. In the graphic on the front cover for SIGN, the direction of movement is the other way; Baluchistan not Beluchistan (p. 3, 4), speech data rather than sign data (p. 8), sign/signer not speak/speaker (p. 10), MAUT not FAUT (p. 63), numbering error (p. 90)- to mention a few. Despite these matters not so diverting, devoid of technical terminology and framework makes SLIP accessible for general readers, too (may be not in terms of price and availability). Sign language, undoubtedly, is not only a landmark in the linguistic study of sign language of the sub-continent, but also an invitation. To make the matter shorter and direct, this book is a long due publication, and is a must in every library shelf. Equally, Zeshan’s description, conclusion, and the above-mentioned familiar note, are stimulating enough for young researchers to pursue sign linguistics.

References:
Comrie, B. 1985. Tense. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Indian Sign Language Dictionary. 2001. Coimbatore: Sri Ramakrishna Mission Vidyalaya Printing Press.
Jepson, Jill. 1991b. Urban and Rural Sign Language in India. Language in Society. Vol. 20. 37-57.
Sinha, Samar. (in prep). Grammaticalisation in Indian Sign Language.
Sinha, Samar. 2003. A Skeletal Grammar of Indian Sign Language. Unpublished M.Phil. Dissertation, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, India.
Stokoe, W. C. 1974. Classification and Description of sign languages. In Seboek, T. A. (ed.): Current Trends in Linguistics. Vol. 12. The Hague & Paris: Mouton. 345-371.
Vasishta, M., Woodward, J. & Wilson, K. 1978. Sign Language in India: Regional variation within the Deaf population. Indian Journal of Applied Linguistics. Vol. 4 (2). 66-74.
Woll, B. 1983. The Semantics of British Sign Language. In Kyle, J & Woll, B (eds.): Language in Sign: An International Perspective on Sign Language. Beckenham: Croom Helm.
Woodward, J. 1993. The relationship of sign language varieties in India, Pakistan and Nepal. Sign Language Studies. Vol. 78. 15-22.

Wh-question in Indian Sign Language

Indian Sign Language (henceforth, ISL) wh-questions are strictly clause-final. An ISL wh-question is a composite sign consisting of a noun and a sign generally labeled as wh-sign/particle in association with an expression, which I label as C-particle. An ISL wh-question thus consists of a noun, C-particle and an expression. Of these, the noun can be dropped in the context where the meaning of the wh-question is recoverable. This shows that the C-particle and the expression suffice to form a wh-question.
The C-particle is primarily a double handed symmetric sign, and often undergoes Weak Drop resulting in a one handed sign. The suppletive form of the C-particle is seen in diurnal WHEN, which differs from other wh-questions in its manual articulation as well as in the expression.
Aboh, et al. (2005) claim that ISL (their IndSL) is a verb-final language with split-wh. Their claim for split-wh is based on composite phrasal expressions like PLACE + G-WH for ‘where’ (G-WH stands for general wh-). Following Neidle et al. (2000), they assume that ISL non-manual wh-marking is associated with [+wh] feature in C. They suggest that G-WH is a question particle in ISL that always appears in the clause final position, either with an associate phrase, or on its own (bare), with the associated phrase remaining in-situ.
The basic expression associated with interrogative is the relative chin up from the immediate sign. It is also observed in yes/no questions, and serves to distinguish interrogative from declaratives.
Aboh, et al. argue against a remnant movement for ISLwh-questions, by which the derivation of the surface order for a sentence with a wh-object requires additional remnant movement of entire IP to a specifier position above CP, citing a variety of problems with this Kaynean approach (for details, see Aboh et al. 2005), Instead, they assume a head-final split-C (Rizzi 1997) and claim that the question particle is realised as the head of the InterP between ForceP and FinP and [Spec, InterP] hosts a null OP [wh]. They further conclude that the wh-element moves to [Spec, InterP] at LF to be interpretable. In the case of split-WH, they argue that the sign PLACE surfaces in the [Spec, FocP] below InterP.
Adopting their proposal, the following structure for the clausal domain emerges. The C- and the Q- particles are the head of ForceP and InterP, respectively. Following Aboh et al. (2005), it is assumed that a noun is optionally merged to the [Spec, FocP].

Disability, Deafness and Citizenship

Contemporary constructs on deafness are also defined over two newer constructions- that of deafness as a disability versus that of deaf people as a linguistic minority. These contemporary discourses are rooted in the activism and experiences of the deaf people. Both the constructs are nurtured by the campaign for equality and full participation in all spheres of social life and human rights, and both are given political meaning and power by personal biographies that detail the experience of being deaf in a hearing world.
The physiological model of disability, based as it is on the normal characteristics of body, its physical, and/or cognitive functioning, finds persons with impairment ‘abnormal’, ‘disabled’, and ultimately ‘handicapped,’ in fulfilling social roles. Such a view on deafness as a disability ‘establishes the tone of official thought’ (in the words of Carol Padden and Tom Humphries) on deafness as a handicap.
With the emergence of such a view on deafness, there also emerged a professional group, whose livelihood and existence depends upon ‘bestow benevolence on deaf people defined as in need’. Therefore, deafness becomes a ‘need’ for intervention. Though the technology and the level of sophistication has changed in the decades that have followed, the focal idea has remained the same - the role of such intervention is to make the deaf hear. This amounts to a rejection of sign in favour of spoken language, and the adoption of lip reading as a sign of normalisation.
The social model of disability, on the other hand, views it as a product of complex social structures and processes, rather than as the simple and inevitable result of individual differences or biology. It suggests that it is not impairment in itself that causes disability, but the way in which societies fail to accommodate natural aspects of difference between people. Disability, therefore, is caused by material, social, structural, and cultural forces and ideas that shape disability labels and social roles.
Both the models of Disability accept a sense of loss, which is true among other interested groups like visually challenged, physically challenged, etc., and seeks social integration with the hearing world through care, service, and assistance. However, the question of loss is contested in the case of deafness - while late deafening and moderate impairment is associated with loss (hence supporting the disability construction), the Deaf community has argued that pre-lingual deafness is not so easily conceived of as such. Unlike the audist’s perception, the Deaf community views deafness as not a loss but a gain, in terms of culture, of language, and values. This is demonstrated in their resistance to the construct of a category of ‘hearing-impaired’ to include the deaf and the hard-of-hearing, as it overlooks the linguistic and cultural difference between the Deaf and the hard-of-hearing. The Deaf/deaf, unlike others who share the hearing culture, experience a different kind of exclusion related to language and culture. As the D/deaf cherish their unique identity and seek an honourable integration into the larger social fabric in a fashion that upholds the difference of their culture and language, they contest a characterisation that suggests they have an impairment and/or disability.
Such beliefs, further, establish deafness as a culture that disregards the disabled-non-disabled distinction and does not seek to discipline disability. In opposition to the disability construct, and with the arguments put forward for deafness as a culture, the D/deaf construct an argument in favour of linguistic minority status. Besides the demographic facts, there are several reasons to identify and validate the D/deaf as a minority vis-à-vis the hearing population. It is an acknowledged fact that in all societies, deaf people have been subject to oppression, or discrimination by the hearing with respect to their values, culture, and language. In developing societies, this still continues, and the majority of deaf children do not have access to education. In most of the cases, the educational ideology pursued for deaf education runs contrary to their right to receive education in their mother tongue of sign language. As their sign language has been subject to oppression and their culture and values have been suppressed, they qualify as a linguistic minority.
Among the scholars that seek solution in Sen’s Capability Approach, which views disability as one aspect of human heterogeneity rather than as abnormality, Terzi (2004) introduces the concept of ‘alternative functioning or of doing the same thing in different ways.’ She cites an example from Martha’s Vineyard and argues that the use of sign language like by the Vineyarders expands the capabilities of deaf. Under such a conceptualization, however, signing is emphasized to be an alternative functioning rather than the most valued of all the other functionings of the signers. In other words, it still reiterates the audist’s view and fails to accommodate sign language within the league of natural human languages.
In India, the provisions for the deaf provided under the Disability Act have failed, as is painfully evident, to ensure their empowerment. The same applies with equal force to the claimed minority status too (as evident in the case of the minorities in India). As a matter of fact, the D/deaf people’s lack of access to resources have resulted in their inability to build alliances with other socially discriminated groups, has become an obstacle in ensuring their participation in the social process. Drawing a parallel based on social discrimination with the dalits, for whom the policy of reservation has significantly ensured their growing participation in the social process, it is imperative to mobilise the D/deaf people on the demand for reservation. In this sense, it is necessary to politicise the deaf world, so that the Deaf culture and perspective can be heard in a democratic society, so that society may come to guarantee them their rights as citizens.

God, His agents and Deafness

Down the ages, across civilizations and cultures, prophets have dwelt on the biology and sociology of deaf people and deafness, and the role of sign. Pre-Enlightenment attitudes and policies towards deafness, deaf education, and sign language were linked to religious practices. Community membership was defined in terms of membership of a religious community. For all religions, speech was fundamental and sacred; and signing is not considered the equivalent of speech.
In India, one of the earliest references to deaf people can be found in verses of the Vedas (ca. 1500 BC). Thus, the Rig Veda: ‘even the deaf will tremble at my roaring’; and the Atharva Veda (approx. 1500 BC): ‘the malady that makes one deaf, the malady that makes one blind,/ all malady that wrings thy brow, we charm away with this our spell.’ These allusions make the point that deafness was considered as a malady needing a cure, and that speech and hearing are signifiers of normalcy. At the same time, it reflects a social yearning for the aural world.
Given the lack of historical records, it would be difficult to claim the existence of a specific social policy towards the deaf in particular. Quite generally, however, it is clear that under Brahminical customs, the deaf were excluded from the inheritance of property, as it was believed that a deaf person cannot make the sacrifices to lessen the sufferings, and enhance the position of the deceased father. The ground for exclusion was based on the conclusion that a person’s deafness is congenital and incurable, and indeed, to verify this, many brutal practices were carried out by the physicians. Moreover, the doctrine of anga-vanga (mutilated body parts), Vidur Niti (Vidur’s Ethics) in the Mahabharata, Manu Smiriti (Codes of Manu), and others perceived disabilities in general, and deafness in particular, as forms of sin in previous births. Such texts, together with religio-literary texts like the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, contributed to the perpetuation of a social system that marginalised the disabled, particularly the deaf, in Indian history.
This social system remained largely unaffected by the philosophical social reform movement propounded by Gautama Buddha, which swept the Asian continent more than two thousand five hundred years ago. The Buddhist texts mention that the deaf were excluded from rituals and were denied membership of the sangha (community). Thus, despite all the social reformist teachings of Buddha, there was no radical, progressive change in the status of, and attitudes to deafness and the deaf.
The Old Testament and the New Testament of the Bible also make numerous references to deaf people, many of which shaped the attitude and policies towards the deaf in Christian society. In the Old Testament, deafness is viewed as a divine plan (Exodus 4) and ‘thou shalt not curse the deaf (Leviticus 19:14). Chapter 29, verse 14 of Isaiah prophesies a day when ‘the deaf hear the words of the book,’ ‘the dumb will sing,’ and ‘the ears of the deaf will be unstopped.’ And a life free from deafness is promised. The New Testament, on the other hand, views deafness as a possession of demonic, evil spirit, ‘thou dumb and deaf spirit, I charge thee, come out of him, and enter no more into him’ (Mark 9). Chapter 7 of Mark and Chapter 9 of Matthew regard deafness as a means to prove Jesus’s supernatural power ‘...he hath done all things well: he maketh both the deaf to hear and the dumb to speak’ (Mark 7).
If the Old Testament reflects the attitudes prevalent at the time of Moses, then societally, deafness was perceived as a sin, a social menace, and hence, the deaf were cursed, damned and shunted aside. In fact, Isaiah’s prophesies clearly reflect a vision of society where sound and hearing was central and it was free from deafness and deaf people. This is a view shared by the New Testament, which, although it no longer conceives of deafness as a grand design, emphasizes the social inclination towards orality and aurality viz., the healing powers of Jesus. Such ‘miracles’ seek to ‘cure’ deafness and install speech and hearing among the deaf. The extreme view of all, however, is to be found in Paul’s epistle to the Romans (10: 17), where in a single sentence, the deaf are denied the possibility of faith: ‘So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.’
These attitudes established the centrality of speech and hearing in the Christian world-view in the centuries that followed. Catholic theologists accepted the official doctrine; in the words of Saint Augustine (354-430 A.D.), deafness ‘is a hindrance to faith’ because the deaf cannot hear the word of God. At the same time, a dialogue in Chapter Eighteen of De quantitate animae liber unus reflects Augustine’s optimism about deaf community and sign language, as can be seen in his question: ‘What does it matter, as he grows up, whether he speaks or makes gestures, since both these pertain to the soul?’ Augustine enlisted the deaf to spread his mission and membership, but his view that deaf people could learn through sign (Augustine refers to ‘bodily movements,’ ‘signs,’ and ‘gestures’) and were thus able to receive faith and salvation was ignored, and was not part of the official doctrine and practice of the Catholic Church.
In the Holy Quran, in Sura 19:1-11, we find reference to sign language as one of the five modes to communicate the praise of Allah. However, these verses inhabit the same text as verses like ‘Those who reject our signs/ are deaf and dumb/ in the midst of darkness/ profound whom Allah willeth/ he leaveth to wander/ whom he willeth, he placeth/ on the way that is straight’ (Sura 6:39). The references to deafness appear to be metaphorical here, where deafness is seen as unwillingness to hear the revelations of Allah. Once again, we have a stress on phonocentric attitudes and a negativism towards deafness.
It was only with the growth of a social concern for deaf education that deaf people’s access to language became a pressing issue. In the mid-19th century that an educational system using sign language as a medium of instruction came to exist. Till then, the God's agents suppressed both Deaf and sign.