POSTSCRIPT

DISABILITY

function classification system)—one of the most common types

of cerebral palsy (CP) diagnosed in children. Those that have
spastic CP have a “scissor walk” (also known as scissoring gait)
where their knees turn inward, because they have increased
muscle stiffness in their hips and legs. When a child is
diagnosed with CP, it is from brain damage that happens
either before or right after birth.
I was born in 1992 into a Buddhist family. My father was a
farmer. We had four acres of land and our own house (not
pucca). My father was educated, having finished school. Follow-
ing the path shown by Babasaheb Ambedkar, he advocated the
embracing of Buddhism to his family, and despite initial
resistance from his parents, he was able to bring about a change
of heart in the family. He and his younger brother removed
idols and pictures of Hindu gods and goddesses from their
home with respect. My mother, on the other hand, had to quit
her studies after Class 7 and got married. She too was a
knowledgeable farmer who worked alongside my father. My
social background has shaped, influenced, and affected my life.
The sense of knowing that my ancestors were “Untouchables”
has been present throughout my journey. Caste—this unnatu-
ral, inhuman division of people—based on the varna system,
is the primary reason for inequality in our society, and
makes life that much more difficult for people like myself.
As a child, I was different, taking two and a half years to
learn how to walk on my own. My schooling began only in
Class 2 because walking to school, which was at a distance of
barely 500 metres, was an arduous journey each time.
Growing up, there was a constant fear of falling down
while walking, running or performing any normal activity, and
injuring myself. This fear pushed me into isolation. It pre-
vented me from taking part in outdoor games and all physi-
I felt different from cal activities. So, I had no friends.
my friends. So, to Ultimately, this made me a loner,
fit in, I learnt to and my childhood boring.
project a fake sense My father passed away when I
was in Class 5. That same year, I was
of self to them
selected to study at a renowned board-

A Disability Dilemma ing school in my district (Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya),

where I was on my own. The first two years in boarding
school were very difficult. Because of my considerably short
The Story of stature and “walking problems,” I was bullied a lot. The hu-
miliation and physical assault that I witnessed and experi-
My Disability Certificate enced was terrifying. Years passed, the bullying stopped, I
made friends and had a normal student life. Yet I was never
Who decides whether one is disabled “enough” part of any team; except my school's band group where I
and how does it affect one’s sense of self? played side drums, though I was never at the forefront.
Over the years, all these experiences contributed to a severe
inferiority complex and lack of self-confidence. I performed
Prashant Bhaware
very poorly in school, and it got worse when I reached puberty.

I
t has been a little over a year since the government hospital
in my district issued a disability certificate to me. According
to it, I have locomotive disability, permanent, 40%, with
a case of spastic cerebral palsy diplegia GMFS (gross motor
64
This perpetual sense of being different was intensified by the
growing conflict between my inner sense of gender and the
sex I was assigned at birth. I felt different from my friends.
So, to fit in, I learnt to project a fake sense of self to them. I
november 28, 2020 vol lV no 47 EPW Economic & Political Weekly
 POSTSCRIPT
DISABILITY

was trying to understand what I was feeling, and, in the lay my inner conflict to rest. The process of accepting my
process, I had to suppress my sexuality and my true gender physical self began that day.
expression, just to avoid the increased hardship and margin- The reasons for going to the hospital for the third time
alisation that I knew would come with it. were very complex. Many of my friends and relatives had
My disability manifests in a very ambiguous way—I can suggested that I should apply for a disability certificate be-
walk, I can run (slowly) and I'm not dependent on anybody cause it would make me eligible for reservation in govern-
for basic physical activity. Because my legs are weaker than ment jobs, and concessions on train and bus ticket fares. Ac-
normal, I walk differently—“abnormally” as they call it. My cess to these benefits aside, a major reason for me to apply for
legs don't stretch fully straight while walking. I have to step this certificate has been more of a personal one—it was an
on to a footrest to climb onto the backseat of a bike. I learnt attempt to overcome my inner conflict and the dilemma of
to ride a bicycle much later than others—only after finishing accepting myself as the way I am. I see this as the beginning
graduation, and with several minor injuries in the process. of accepting a part of myself in a way. Now that it's been over
Since the time I can remember, I have always been inde- a year since this certificate was issued to me, I feel closer to
pendent in a physical sense—I can do almost all the basic myself and can see this world a little differently.
things like anyone else. The way society behaves with and
Prashant Bhaware (bhawareprashant@gmail.com) is a student of law who also works as
treats persons with disability is insensitive and heartbreaking.
monitoring and evaluation specialist in the Water and Sanitation Department of
Experiencing this same insensitivity and humiliation first-hand, Yavatmal Zilla Parishad. He is a non-binary genderqueer person, and writes on social
I began to resist and reject the idea, both inside and outside justice from an anti-caste perspective.
myself, that I am a person with disability. This led to a dilemma
in my mind, a conflict—am I a person with disability or not?
Despite facing the humiliation and discrimination that
persons with disability face, the sense of being independent
and bodily free stopped me from accepting myself as a per-
son with disability. I hated using the terms apang, handi-
capped, kamzor, divyang for myself, and the internal conflict
has stayed with me.
In all these years, I have gone thrice to the government
district hospital to get a disability certificate for myself. The
first time, I was taken to the hospital by my uncle, along with
my mother, when I was around 10 years old. But the doctor
had said that I was “normal.” The second time, I went to the
hospital again with all the documentary evidence, photos
and an application. I remember this experience very well as I
was in the first year of college. It took six or seven hours that
day in the hospital, where they did a few blood tests, made
me walk, asked me to sit down and stand up, observed me,
and checked the x-ray of my hip. Finally, they declared that I
was not a person with disability, and therefore, such a certifi-
cate could not be issued. My application was rejected. But
what of my lived experience?
These experiences intensified my inner conflict. The ques-
tion was still the same—am I a person with disability or not?
If not, as reiterated by the healthcare system, why did I have
to miss all those outdoor games? Why do I always have to
face the humiliation of people staring at me with uncharita-
ble looks on their faces when they see me walking, daily? If it
is because of my disability, why had the issuing authority
rejected my application?
Finally, the third time, I went all by myself. As usual, the
doctor made me walk, sit down and stand up—and the
certificate was issued on the same day! I called my mother,
my sister, and my uncle immediately to share this news. It
was a strange emotion. I was neither happy nor sad about it.
But it meant so much to me at that moment. Finally, I could
Economic & Political Weekly EPW november 28, 2020 vol lV no 47 65