Infrastructure, Mental Health and Society

1st July, 2019. My first day at college - the MS University of Vadodara. I wasn't exactly excited to go - I wanted to leave Vadodara, study elsewhere. Well, the education here is good, so I decided to go with the flow.

We approached the building to attend the orientation program. Right in front of me stood three big stairs - just to enter the building. At the time I had not yet learnt to climb up or down staircases as I can now, but even today that's a dangerous method to follow. Anyway, that day it took three people to lift me sitting on my wheelchair into the building. It was in that moment that I realised how dependent I was, and was going to be for the rest of my course here, upon people other than just me for something as basic as entering my college. Literally.

I was devastated, frustrated, angry. I hated the place. Luckily for the college, though, I wouldn't be able to attend classes for about 4 months after the first three days, during which I had multiple health issues and a surgery. Also during the same period onwards my family, like many others before us, requested the authorities of the University to make infrastructural changes so as to support me and others like me to attend classes regularly. Their excuse? The University campus is a heritage site. I mean, of course, why would I want to go to any heritage site at all, especially my own college campus, right? And even if I did want to go, wouldn't I rather risk breaking my spine again by climbing entire staircases like I already am than actually having an easy passage method to use?

We have been told since a long time that we should practise what we preach. We talk about equality yet some of us refuse to believe changes are necessary to bring about equality. We talk about mental health yet some of us refuse to even consider the ill effects of having to be dependent just because it is "troublesome" to change the present facilities. This section of our society needs some serious change in their perspective, especially those who have the power to not only affect change but also to actually administer it. I really want to know how, when they have the need for such facilities, they just magically appear, but even after years of appeals and sometimes court cases the general public isn't provided with them.

Contrary to this my school - the Bright Day School CBSE Vasna unit - was very supportive. As soon as we realised we would need a ramp and requested them to build one, they fulfilled that request along with a number of subtle changes that helped me glide through my last two years there as best as possible.

Recently I have been working on a video about the infrastructural problems any wheelchair enabled person might face at the University as part of the Accessible Vadodara campaign, with the hope that at least someone will listen and act, so that the students coming after me may not face as much of these issues as I and others before me have had to. It is a legal requirement for public institutions to have accessibility supports, complete with guidelines on the dimensions of such supports. This requirement is often neglected. To say the truth, many of my classes have been shifted to the ground floor, and I am thankful for that. However that is hardly enough looking at the state of the building.

This isn't just a question of physical support. Mental health is a real thing and it is affected immensely by a person's sense of independence. I may make peace with a majority of my own problems but I refuse to stay quiet when the sense of independence, of equality, of such a large part of the society is in question. Because, after all, staying quiet isn't much better than actually causing harm.

Do not tell me I'm not trying hard enough

Do not tell me I'm not trying hard enough. Do not assume I didn't think of the basic "problems" or "solutions" - ask. Because, you know, then I'll probably be trying really hard not to punch you in the face. If i succeed in restraining myself, I am strong enough to keep going, which is clearly most important to me. If I succeed in punching you, you're hurt and I am definitely strong enough to go through my wars and win, with or without your condescension.

These are things everyone going through a hard time wants to say to everyone else. These are things our orthodox society wants to keep shushed. In fact if the society wasn't such, no one would dare to question our worth and the world would be more peaceful in more than one way. Being human would no longer need approval.

As much as I would like to fight doubters with my fists, I would like to write about it and tell people they are not alone in being angry - neither am I. Some of us hide it because it's more polite that way, others because there just seems to be no point in showing it. We are never sure how the receiver might react to our anger, but do we really deserve to be made to feel insufficient for the world? The only thing we can control is ourselves, and by control I do not mean hold back, I mean let out the exact amount we wish to. Overcoming nonsensical restrictions to express ourselves is half the battle won.

There is power in me which you don't know about, power which I didn't show you because I do not need to prove myself to you. I am enough and your underestimation of me shows just how little you know me.

Again strong words society wants to shush. Sometimes I wish it wasnt so diffiicult to stand up for ourselves simply because of the stress it creates. We are not pressure cookers who can only whistle when absolutely stuffed! It hurts when people undermine us and it is our right to speak up. We shouldn't be ashamed of it and we shouldn't be embarrassed of the wars we are fighting inside of us. This is what it feels like to be human in a world which wants robots. It is time humans learn to be both human and humane - to both express oneself and to respect others.

Trail of Thoughts: Midnight Edition

Looking back at my earlier blogs I realise my journey of writing is changing the way I see things, the way I communicate, the way I express. It started out with a crude attempt at writing somewhat of an essay, just the way school essays are expected to be. Over time and over many hours of reading and introspection my writings changed from essays to open diary entries. My way of looking at things has changed too; call it more mature or just plain realistic, the choice is yours. It is a long journey covered in a short time frame inside our minds: our thoughts never wait to be put into words, they simply flow.

What I feel while I put this into words feels close to what we call eye-opening realisation. Endless tiny realisations seem to come back to me, finding links where there seemed to be none, creating a blur picture that gets clearer with every peek. I am far too young to exactly know, with far too many adventures waiting for me in life, waiting for me to discover parts of me which I never knew existed. To make sense of the world is a lifelong process. Why we persist to do so is a question which has been answered yet I feel there is more to it.

Millions of years of evolution and the subsequent gradual enlargement of our brains are not enough to answer many questions we have about life. However one thing we know for sure is that change is the only constant in nature. Gradual or sudden, predicted or unexpected, every change builds up the world both within and without us. Nature finds its way to restore balance in every chaotic situation. Our unconscious has been hardwired to try and maintain balance in our lives, be it emotional, physical, social or otherwise. The harder we try to compel our mind to behave in a way that will create imbalance, the greater is the rebound we face to get back to normal. C’est la vie. I believe this is the major explanation behind the saying, ‘Trust your heart, it knows the way.’ After all freedom to be ourselves is what we all desire! What use is logic if we never intend to apply it?

What if the very change we are afraid to bring about is the one that we actually need?

Stairs, Stares and My Take on the Two

When I first went out in my wheelchair, it was an eye-opening experience for me. I found out that it is true when many of my fellow wheelchair community members say, "We only have two major challenges - stairs and stares."

I understood the part about stairs even before I actually went out in my wheelchair. I and my parents probably spent hours deciding where to go because so few places in Vadodara are accessible to people like me! Wherever there are two or more steps, a wheelchair has to be carried, as also the person in it. Sometimes if there is a lift, there is a short staircase before we can reach it. Other times there is no issue in reaching the lift but the entrance to it is too small for a wheelchair to fit through. And sometimes when there are good ramps, not too steep and not too slippery, there are vehicles parked in front of them. So if I can’t enter a place, how am I going to enjoy it? Luckily because of the “Accessible India” movement along with growing awareness, more and more places are becoming equipped with better infrastructure and thus open for the community to enjoy.

Coming to the stares part, I believe it is more of a curiosity – filled mindset problem than anything else. Most people tend to underestimate every person in a wheelchair. They underestimate our ability to move around on our own, to pick out things that we like, even the ability of our companions in supporting us whenever few times we need. I have seen strangers gaping when I transfer myself from a wheelchair into a car. I have seen them gaping when I sit in the food court and place orders when with my friends. I have seen them gaping when I collide into someone and then apologise with a smile instead of falling off my wheelchair. Often there are kids who smile at me while their parents frown and pull them away, maybe because of some stigma they have attached to this condition, to wheelchairs, out of a completely bizarre belief which I fail to understand.

To be honest, it feels encouraging to see someone smile at me and acknowledge my presence and not just that of my wheelchair. It feels like magic exists when little kids come up to me and say you’ll be alright with their sweet little laughs and then run away to their happily waiting parents. It feels empowering to know that I rebuild people’s mindsets each time I interact with them. I feel strength in knowing that I am complete, with or without my wheelchair. Also, I do not feel ashamed to ask for help although unwanted help feels annoying. I do not hate stares although receiving smiles are way better. Getting acceptance from the society for being the way I am is a blessing that most of us in the community struggle for. Let us all make the world a better place – a more accessible and accepting place.