Image of disability justice for representational purposes.
Credit: iStock Photo
The Punjab and Haryana High Court’s decision quashing disciplinary proceedings against a Haryana Roadways employee who acquired 70% disability during service was not an instance of judicial activism but of judicial exhaustion. The law on this subject is neither new nor ambiguous.
Section 20 of the Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act, 2016, explicitly protects employees from discrimination and guarantees job security to those who acquire a disability during service. It prohibits any government establishment from dispensing with, reducing in rank, or denying promotion to an employee on the basis of disability. Every government establishment is required to provide reasonable accommodation and a barrier-free, conducive work environment. If an employee becomes unsuitable for their existing post due to disability, the employer must shift them to a suitable post with the same pay and service benefits; if no such post is available, the employee must be retained on a supernumerary post until a suitable post arises or until they reach superannuation. These provisions are mandatory and leave no discretion for the administration to ignore or circumvent them.
In the case at hand, the petitioner joined service in 1986, was regularised in 1995, and was promoted in 2002. During service, he suffered a brain haemorrhage and was medically assessed as having 70% disability. The disability certificate, issued by a medical board, was valid until 2029—the very year of his superannuation. He was physically incapable of performing the duties of a painter, which involved prolonged standing and walking.
Rather than providing reasonable accommodation under Section 20, the State of Haryana rejected the employee’s request for supernumerary retention on the ground that his disability was not “permanent” and instead issued a chargesheet for unauthorised absence, treating the RPwD Act not as binding law but as a mere policy suggestion—a clear act of institutional defiance of settled legal provisions.
Justice Sandeep Moudgil’s judgment firmly rejected this approach. The Court held that the petitioner squarely fell within the definition of a “person with disability” under Section 2 (s) of the Act, and that insisting on a permanent disability certificate was legally unsustainable and contrary to the purpose of the legislation. Where disability persists for the remainder of service, the distinction between “temporary” and “permanent” becomes meaningless.
This reasoning is consistent with precedent. As early as 2003, the Supreme Court in Kunal Singh vs Union of India held that an employee acquiring a disability during service cannot be invalidated out of service and must be protected against economic loss. Social welfare legislation, the Court stressed, must be interpreted liberally to advance its purpose, not frustrate it.
More recently, the Supreme Court in Ch Joseph vs Telangana State Road Transport Corporation (2025) reiterated that compulsory retirement or removal of employees on the ground of disability—without exploring reasonable accommodation or redeployment—is impermissible. The obligation to adjust or retain disabled employees is not optional; administrative convenience cannot override statutory rights.
The Punjab and Haryana High Court itself has echoed this principle in Joginder Kaur vs CAT, holding that denial of supernumerary posts to employees acquiring disability amounts to a direct violation of disability law. These are not isolated rulings—they form a consistent and settled line of authority.
This reasoning makes the State’s conduct in the present case particularly indefensible. Issuing a chargesheet for unauthorised absence despite medical incapacity amounts to a punitive response to disability. It reflects a bureaucratic instinct to discipline first and assess legality later. Such action is not merely harsh; it is unlawful.
Equally troubling was the State’s reliance on photographic evidence to claim that the employee was “mobile”. Courts have repeatedly cautioned against such superficial assessments. Disability is functional, contextual, and job-specific. Brief mobility does not negate medical findings about incapacity to perform sustained physical labour. To argue otherwise trivialises disability and misapplies the law.
Justice Moudgil’s observation that “an employee who has devoted the prime of his life to public service ought not to be met with rigidity at the moment of his greatest vulnerability” must be read as a rebuke to administrative culture. When the Court warns that service jurisprudence risks losing its “moral and constitutional compass”, it signals a deeper erosion: the normalisation of legal non-compliance until judicial correction.
The broader question remains: why must disabled employees repeatedly approach constitutional courts to enforce Section 20? Why does statutory clarity fail to translate into administrative action?
The answer: Departments act as though accommodation is a concession and litigation an acceptable filter. This shifts the burden of enforcement onto those least able to bear it—employees already grappling with illness, financial insecurity, and institutional neglect.
Courts are not primary grievance redressal forums. When they are forced into this role, it signals systemic administrative failure, not judicial activism. If the State truly wishes to be a “model employer”, it must internalise Section 20 of the RPwD Act as a constitutional obligation, not a litigable hurdle. Until then, judgments like this will continue to expose an uncomfortable truth: in India, disability rights are secure not in government files, but in court orders.
(The writer is a research fellow – Disability Inclusion and Access, at Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy)
(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.)