I just want to describe a normal day in my life in independent India. As my apartment is not really accessible to my wheelchair, my going and making myself a cup of hot coffee in the morning is not really too comfortable. In fact, doing anything in our kitchen is quite an effort, so usually my wife sweetly does everything - from cooking to cleaning up afterwards. And because my fingers are not particularly supple, I even need her help for opening plastic wrappers or the foil in which tablets are packed; so I have to leave that as just more of those things she has to do for me. But my wife does it unquestioningly and affectionately.
The next phase, after I have somehow managed to bathe and clothe myself, is still not so bad. When I need to go to the institute to work, my driver Sekar comes home, and I need his hand as well as the crutch in my right hand to hobble downstairs to the car. We get to the institute and Sekar drops me at the institute gate (where I have this arrangement with the security guards, whereby they have previously been told by when I will need the battery of my wheelchair charged). I hobble from the car to the wheelchair, and drive across to my office in it, and am able to function with a modicum of independence. I do have some troubles, however, with the recently constructed guest house canteen which has its share of (i) dining halls which allow very few possible spots where I can sit in my wheelchair and eat, and (ii) doors which automatically swing shut or which are bolted so I can get through only if somebody holds the door open for me.
And if I have to go out somewhere (to eat, for instance), I need Sekar to disassemble and then load my wheelchair in my car to take us to the restaurant. And now if that restaurant is not in a five-star hotel, you can be almost sure that there will not be ramps to permit a smooth ride. (And this is after Sekar has taken my wheels out of the trunk, reassembled it, and assisted me from the car to the wheelchair.) More often than not, some number of steps will have to be negotiated while somebody assists me (typically by grabbing some part of my body without bothering to ask me if I need assistance, until I have passed the steps).
And I am able to do even this much only because I can afford to have a car and immensely resourceful and helpful driver. Now if I was not so fortunate and had to use public transport, I'd have no choice but to sit at home all day and drive myself and everybody around crazy.
And Shri Modi, our Prime Minister, you who seem to have no trouble in having access to my phone number to send me a message `wishing me a happy independence day' and giving me a link to where I can hear you speak on the occasion! How do I get to write to you to tell you that I hope you can have a taste of the frustration of a totally dependent existence which one need not have if only our rulers took their commitments to being signatories to the UNCRPD a little more seriously? Have your appropriate ministries pay attention to the hundreds of things they need to do rather than invent new names for existing ministries which lead to new ways of not completing the pile of tasks needing to be done. You who are supposed to `get things done', please subject each bureaucrat/minister in MSJE (which you are attributing divine powers to) to spend the first month in office by alternatively having to move only in a wheelchair, or walk blindfolded, or with their ears completely stuffed so they cannot hear anything. In short, it is time for all you glib talkers to WALK THE TALK.
And you want to know something? That which robs me my independence is not my physical condition due to having contracted Multiple Sclerosis, but the barrier-ridden environment and the exclusive mind-set of the citizens of India (or Bharat, if you prefer that). It is not just the rich and `advanced' countries like USA or UK which permit people with disabilities to function with total independence. My recent visit to Bali in Indonesia showed me that even countries where our Rupee is not an insignificant amount of money showed me that you can be generous and inclusive in even such a country. So, as a great man once said, `LET MY PEOPLE FREE'.
The next phase, after I have somehow managed to bathe and clothe myself, is still not so bad. When I need to go to the institute to work, my driver Sekar comes home, and I need his hand as well as the crutch in my right hand to hobble downstairs to the car. We get to the institute and Sekar drops me at the institute gate (where I have this arrangement with the security guards, whereby they have previously been told by when I will need the battery of my wheelchair charged). I hobble from the car to the wheelchair, and drive across to my office in it, and am able to function with a modicum of independence. I do have some troubles, however, with the recently constructed guest house canteen which has its share of (i) dining halls which allow very few possible spots where I can sit in my wheelchair and eat, and (ii) doors which automatically swing shut or which are bolted so I can get through only if somebody holds the door open for me.
And if I have to go out somewhere (to eat, for instance), I need Sekar to disassemble and then load my wheelchair in my car to take us to the restaurant. And now if that restaurant is not in a five-star hotel, you can be almost sure that there will not be ramps to permit a smooth ride. (And this is after Sekar has taken my wheels out of the trunk, reassembled it, and assisted me from the car to the wheelchair.) More often than not, some number of steps will have to be negotiated while somebody assists me (typically by grabbing some part of my body without bothering to ask me if I need assistance, until I have passed the steps).
And I am able to do even this much only because I can afford to have a car and immensely resourceful and helpful driver. Now if I was not so fortunate and had to use public transport, I'd have no choice but to sit at home all day and drive myself and everybody around crazy.
And Shri Modi, our Prime Minister, you who seem to have no trouble in having access to my phone number to send me a message `wishing me a happy independence day' and giving me a link to where I can hear you speak on the occasion! How do I get to write to you to tell you that I hope you can have a taste of the frustration of a totally dependent existence which one need not have if only our rulers took their commitments to being signatories to the UNCRPD a little more seriously? Have your appropriate ministries pay attention to the hundreds of things they need to do rather than invent new names for existing ministries which lead to new ways of not completing the pile of tasks needing to be done. You who are supposed to `get things done', please subject each bureaucrat/minister in MSJE (which you are attributing divine powers to) to spend the first month in office by alternatively having to move only in a wheelchair, or walk blindfolded, or with their ears completely stuffed so they cannot hear anything. In short, it is time for all you glib talkers to WALK THE TALK.
And you want to know something? That which robs me my independence is not my physical condition due to having contracted Multiple Sclerosis, but the barrier-ridden environment and the exclusive mind-set of the citizens of India (or Bharat, if you prefer that). It is not just the rich and `advanced' countries like USA or UK which permit people with disabilities to function with total independence. My recent visit to Bali in Indonesia showed me that even countries where our Rupee is not an insignificant amount of money showed me that you can be generous and inclusive in even such a country. So, as a great man once said, `LET MY PEOPLE FREE'.
Dear Sunder, I do hope that this heart rending appeal reaches the Prime Minister and his various ministers and that they start taking immediate positive steps to rectify this long standing and eons old hindrance that prevents an innumerable number of citizens from leading an independent life.
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