A professional disability

When I took on this assignment, I did not have even a grain of doubt. It was a job and it had to be done. I had to report on the accessib...

When I took on this assignment, I did not have even a grain of doubt. It was a job and it had to be done. I had to report on the accessibility of the disabled to various public places. We wanted to find out why almost every place in the Capital was out of bounds for the physically challenged. Why couldn8217;t they go to educational institutes? Why couldn8217;t they go to places of worship? If they wanted to go for a burger or a movie, why couldn8217;t they do so? We thought it would be a good idea to spend a day with a wheelchair user to gauge what it would be like in their shoes 8212; as an activist had once told me, the problem lies in the able-bodied person not being able to empathise with the person in the the wheelchair.

Only when I started working on it did I realise what a mammoth task I had undertaken. First of all, what kind of disability would I tackle? I knew that no two disabilities were the same but I had no idea what this translated into. When somebody thinks of accessibility, they just put in a ramp in thebuilding and think the job is done. Well, what about those who are visually or hearing impaired? Did you know that they need to have accessories like voice-support in elevators? Or did you know that lifts should have the numbers written in Braille?

I really looked forward to the other part of my assignment 8212; spending a day with a wheelchair user. I do not know whether the way I approached the whole thing was right or wrong 8212; but I wanted somebody who had overcome this physical challenge, a winner. The first thing that hit me was I did not know a wheelchair user. That shouldn8217;t be a big problem, I thought, and asked around. My family, my friends, colleagues, acquaintances 8212; nobody knew. So, I approached various organisations. It wasn8217;t that easy either but they did come up with a few suggestions. After a few dead ends, I thought I had found what I was looking for in Salil Chaturvedi.

Salil had done it all 8212; 32 years of age, he had represented India in tennis, he used to run a feature agency and nowhe was into multimedia. He was lively, witty, very sure of himself. Then came the hard part. I told him what I needed. quot;Does that mean that we have to go from place to place?quot; he asked tentatively. quot;Whatever you usually do. I can meet you at work, and maybe later we could go out somewhere,quot; I suggested. He joked about how he was a boring guy and I should try going out with somebody else. I, in turn, quipped that he was a better idea since he was young and unattached.

I had only spoken to this man for a few minutes but I felt a strong affinity. It was his candour that put me at ease, but I think I assumed too much too soon. quot;You know, I do not really think of myself as disabled,quot; he said. I respected that. quot;I have had TV crews come up to me time and again to do this kind of thing, and I do not really think that I am up for it.quot; As he spoke, my vision started getting blurred. He recalled how TV crews and photographers, forever on the lookout for photo opportunities, made him go up and down the stairs; how hiscolleagues, though thrilled initially, had grown weary of the idea; how he detested the thought of being made to go around outside demonstrating how difficult it was for him.

I felt like a low life. What right did I have to violate his self-respect? I felt guilty, as if I had intended to make this into a freak-show. Could I be so insensitive? I apologised. He, of course, understood my awkwardness and even agreed go along, but I couldn8217;t let him now. I asked if he knew anybody else in a wheelchair, and pat came the reply that how could I presume that he would know other people just because they were in the same boat.

When I hung up the phone, I shed tears8230; not just for what happened, but for people like me; for all those who did not reach out; for all those who reached out but turned back when the going got tough; for losing out on a whole new world. I went over and over all that I had said to gauge where I had gone wrong. Maybe I didn8217;t. Maybe, it was just an initial hiccup. I hope so, and not just forthe sake of my story.