Author: Swetha
When I was told that I would get to
attend a Wheelchair Rugby match, I thought, “No way”. On my way to the ESCIP
(Empowering Spinal-Chords Injured Person) Centre, I thought about the ways in
which the people that I would be soon interacting with are disabled. God, they
must have faced such hardships. I should probably make sure that I don’t stare
at their feet. They are quadriplegic. Staring at their disability will probably
offend them.
With all these thoughts in
my head, I walked into their office. Their office, or centre, was just like any
other house in Delhi. The hall was brightened by sunlight that was streaming
in. There were enough chairs and sofas to seat at
least 15 people strewn all over the room. At the other end of the hall was the
dining table, where everyone was seated, waiting
for lunch. After which, they planned to begin the match. After 5 minutes of
introduction, we got to the point. We got to lunch time.
My friend and I sat on the sofa, while
the guys made it to the dining table. I was rather surprised at how freely they
roamed around the house. I saw them help each other. They were like family.
Yes, that was it! They all admitted to
the fact that, their levels of disability and independence varied. Some were
still learning how to get off of the wheelchair and into their beds; while some
were planning to become a professional in the field of Wheelchair Rugby. I
tried my best to tear my eyes away from their limp feet placed at the footrest
of the wheelchair. That is when Nikhil explained to me how disability is a
hurdle. He lifted his lifeless foot and explained. I was amazed at how
comfortable he was. For him, his disability was just about being
differently-abled, with each person turning their disability into an ability in
some way or the other.
After about half an hour in
their presence, I forgot that they were “disabled”. It was funny how while on
the way all that I could think of was how to avoid making them feel awkward in
any way. Perhapsit was the manner in
which Nikhil was so comfortable in just picking up his limp feet and trying his
best to explain what the problem was. Or maybe it was when Gajendar, aka Gajju,
told me that he aware of the fact that people hesitate to help the “differently
abled”. This just took me back to the instructions I had given myself. “You
see”, Gajju said, “We know that people are hesitant to help us, not because they don’t want
to help us but, they are worried how we will perceive it.” I smiled at Gajju
and nodded in agreement. There was something rather refreshing about people who
tried to look at every side of the story.
After lunch, the walk to the playground
was a short one. The playground set up was like any other park you would find
in your residential colonies. They all gathered in a circle and warmed up for
the match. And then, the match began. I can say that I was completely amazed. I
didn’t expect men in wheelchairs to be so energetic! They zoomed around the
ground, tackled each other, yelled out at fouls, tried to stare each other down
and did everything that a sportsperson in a “normal game” would!
I am not particularly sporty, but in
terms of cheering, I am the first one to yell out a “Boo ya!” And their energy
was contagious. I got up from where I was sitting on the boundary and stood
with others and cheered. Gone were my doubts and fears and all the little check
points I had kept for myself. I saw them tackle each other, my eyes scanned
their arms. Though their feet were limp, their arms did all the work for them.
Trust me when I say that using a wheelchair is no child’s play. “Imagine
carrying a dead weight of 50 kg wherever you go”, Nikhil had said. I thought
about how I crib every morning about carrying my laptop to office.
What did I learn? The whole idea is to
look beyond their disability. Just before the match began, I spoke to one of
the players. Pradeep is from a village near Meerut and was never aware that he
could live life this way. One of the fastest members in the team, he takes
great pride in the distance he has travelled. He was here today because he took
a bullet to his back when he tried talking some sense into a couple of boys who
were harassing a girl. He explained how one bullet had brought his whole life
down. But he knew he could live now. He could travel around on his own. Life
was better. His second life treated him well.
By the end of the game, I looked across
and I spotted each one of them. Eyes swollen, sweating like pigs, they were
huffing and puffing. They did this because they loved it. Wheelchair Rugby was
more than just a sport to them. It gave them that rush we all look for in life.
The point of this little story is not that they need pity. There is so much
more to them than their disabilities. Next time you see a differently-abled
person, try to look beyond what you see in front of you. Try and strike a
conversation. After all, where there are wheels, there are ways. And of course,
stories!
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