‘The goodness of people, not the system, helped me get around’

Anchal Bhateja, lawyer and research fellow at Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy, in conversation with Shashikala M S.

In a landmark moment for disability representation in the legal field, Anchal Bhateja, who was born with low vision and later lost her eyesight to retinopathy, argued before the Supreme Court of India last month. Her take on what it means to be a woman with disabilities.

You recently argued before the SC in a landmark case on disability rights. What was it like, personally and professionally?

I come from a conservative Punjabi, single-parent family. I’m the only person with a disability in my family, and the first to go out of my city to pursue higher education. It was personally a culmination of all the journeys of several people, and not just mine, who helped me navigate the world. I think it marked a milestone of far greater significance for my support system. Professionally, it was not just my first SC hearing; it was my first hearing before any court. That made it a special day.

Why the legal profession?

When I lost my mother to multiple organ failure due in some part to medical negligence, I wanted to be a doctor. I was born with retinopathy, which took away 70% of my sight in one eye and 100% in the other when I was just a few days old. Schools initially denied admission, and when they did, no reasonable accommodation was provided. A month or two before my board examination, I lost vision completely. I had to rely on a scribe. I did well with a full 10 GPA, but mainstream schools refused admission to me. This devastated me, and I wanted to fight for the right to education for children with disabilities. Interestingly, I lost my eyesight completely two months before the Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act, 2016, was passed. This was the first trigger to choose law. The second was when I found out that the visually impaired in about 300 villages stay home idle.

The point of inflection was when my father agreed for me to pursue law and my friends encouraged me to join NLS. So here I am.

Alone at the National Law School in Bengaluru, how did you manage?

It wasn’t easy. The college administration, though a premier institution, did not – still does not – have an SOP to onboard a student with visual impairment. No guidance was offered. Secondly, there is no conversation around the needs of a disabled student. The goodness of people, and not the system, helped me get around. We’ve been pushing for an infrastructure audit at NLS to identify and address issues. The attitude challenge can only be overcome with sensitisation. A policy is imperative because the goodness of people is not always a given.

How does India fare on the disability front vis-a-vis the West?

I feel that there is too much fantasisation of the West. America’s ADA might be great legislation; so is India’s RPwD Act. Implementation is not a priority for any government because we are not a vote bank.

What challenges do the disabled, especially women, face?

There are several. My marginalisation as a woman is one. Education is a challenge because schools refuse admission. Parents do not trust the system. My father would not let me travel in a school van, which is why I couldn’t make friends. I would not be allowed to attend PT periods for fear of injuries, which curtailed my sports appetite. My disability was equalised with those using specs, but retina detachment reduces the ocular coverage. This lack of understanding of my disability led to bullying and loneliness, which have their own mental health consequences.

As a woman with visual impairment, I routinely face harassment in public places. Seeking redressal is tough, and litigation is adversarial. POSH looks good on paper, but fighting with the college administration or an employer is not easy. Finding jobs is tough for PwDs, especially women. Lastly, in my experience, a man with a disability is taken more seriously than a woman with a disability.

The RPwD Act, 2016, is often held as a very progressive legislation.

The RPwD Act is good legislation on paper. There are a few problems. Flexibility in its language is one. The Act homogenises disabilities and does not define ‘reasonable accommodations’ for different types and levels of disabilities, making implementation difficult and uneven. The court judgements include progressive observations and directives but fail at the implementation level. A lack of a culture of compliance results in the failure of jurisprudence. There is also no uniformity in how it is implemented across departments and states.

In Uttarakhand vs Sravya Sindhuri, the state said that all PwDs were ineligible except for four categories: acid attack victims, autism, muscular dystrophy, and leprosy cured, even though the Act clearly identifies 21 categories. There have been a range of judgements, but what’s the point of precedent if every single entity will have to be taken to court?

What is a disability-feminist approach to law?

Katharine T Bartlett, in her groundbreaking paper on feminist legal methods, mentions three aspects: asking the woman question, feminist practical reasoning, and consciousness-raising. These help us examine how a law affects women differently, the practical consequences of the law on women, and personal experiences to identify patterns of discrimination and oppression. A disability-feminist approach would also include the disability angle in that conversation. Legislation will fall short if there is no practical thinking on implementation.

What will it take to normalise the presence of disabled women in the judiciary or in public life?

We need a cultural shift to value children with disabilities as individuals, not exceptions. Parents, as the first point of contact, must lead this conversation, understanding disability as a natural variation, not something to be fixed. By promoting universal design and acceptance, we can reduce discrimination and create a more inclusive society. Section 38 of the RPwD Act about sensitising people is its core provision that has to be implemented.

What would you tell girls with disabilities facing challenges in their academic pursuits?

Education is key. Fight for it, as it’ll give you the vocabulary and consciousness to advocate for yourself. As a woman with a disability, you’ll face double the pressure to be silenced. Don’t shut up – shout and fight for your rights. It’s a battle, but it’s yours to fight. Try diplomacy first, but be ready to take a stand.