On November 27, the Supreme Court directed comedian Samay Raina and his associates to conduct two shows every month to raise funds for persons with disabilities, especially those affected by spinal muscular atrophy (SMA). The context? Raina and his team, in their show India’s Got Latent, mocked persons with SMA, referring to a two-month-old child with SMA requiring an Rs-16 crore injection. Outraged by this crude trivialisation of a life-threatening condition, the SMA Federation approached the Supreme Court seeking action against the undignified portrayal of persons with disabilities (PwDs).
The Supreme Court urged the Solicitor General to consider developing a strong regulatory mechanism to ensure accountability when individuals portray PwDs in a degrading manner, just as the law protects Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes from targeted humiliation. This case is far from an isolated instance.
In Nipun Malhotra v. Sony Pictures, the Court confronted similar issues. The movie in question, Aankh Micholi, used deeply objectionable language, referring to a deaf character as a “soundproof system” and a person with a speech impairment as an “atki hui cassette”. The Court observed that humour and disability are “uneasy companions” in a society where PwDs are routinely mocked and dehumanised for entertainment. As the Court had earlier noted in Indibility Creative v. State of West Bengal, satire directed at marginalised communities can reinforce harmful prejudices and exacerbate discrimination.
At the same time, the Court clarified that humour itself is not the enemy. It drew a critical distinction between “disabling humour” – which demeans PwDs – and “disability humour”, which can raise awareness and celebrate lived realities. It issued a series of progressive directions: the media must portray PwDs not merely as objects of struggle, but as contributors to society, and certification bodies must meaningfully include representatives with disabilities.
These judicial interventions reflect a growing recognition that dignity is non-negotiable. But if we are serious about reform, we must shift focus to the law’s implementation.
First, when the Court invites the government to strengthen rules on media portrayal of PwDs, the response cannot be to reinvent the wheel. The Rights of Persons with Disabilities (RPwD) Act, 2016 already contains a powerful provision – Section 92(a) – which criminalises intentional insult or humiliation of a PwD in any public setting. It prescribes imprisonment between six months and five years. Yet in the 8.5 years since the Act came into force, how many trials have taken place? How many convictions? The answer is zero.
There are two major systemic defects behind this paralysis. One is structural: Section 84 of the Act designates sessions courts as special courts for trying RPwD offences. But under the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS), crimes punishable up to seven years should ordinarily be tried by Chief Judicial Magistrates, not the highest criminal court in the district. Burdening sessions courts with these cases leads to delays and low prioritisation. The second is operational. Even in states where special courts exist on paper, there is no ecosystem to activate them. Public prosecutors are not designated specifically for RPwD matters. Police lack training to recognise disability-based discrimination as a cognisable crime. The result is a dead-letter provision – powerful in theory, meaningless in practice.
Fixing this must be the starting point, not creating a brand-new legal architecture. Second, our disability rights discourse must not be confined to jokes and satire. Offensive humour is harmful, but not nearly as harmful as losing a job because of blindness, or being denied kindergarten admission due to autism. When such discrimination occurs, PwDs are expected to approach the Chief or state disability commissioners, who can only make recommendations. In other words, rights without remedy.
Despite these structural limitations, many disability commissioners are doing an exemplary job in confronting the ills of an ableist society. To genuinely strengthen the disability rights regime, India must empower its enforcement machinery with real teeth. That means enabling disability commissioners to enforce binding orders, streamlining criminal accountability under Sections 91 and 92, training police and prosecutors, and ensuring cases of discrimination move swiftly and visibly through the system.
Comedy clubs and movie theatres are only some spaces where dignity is tested. Schools, workplaces, housing societies, hospitals, and government offices are where even bigger battles are fought, and too often lost.
Humour can spark awareness. It can liberate. But when it becomes a tool of humiliation, the Constitution has a duty to intervene. The Supreme Court has sent a clear message: dignity is the baseline, not a bonus.
Now, it is time for the law to deliver on that promise.
The writer is a practising lawyer with expertise in disability rights and IP law, and is co-founder of Mission Accessibility. He wears more hats than he can himself sometimes count.