Writing Us, Reaching Us

Ableist and sexist tropes of disability in literature have changed to some extent, but there's still a long way to go

- Vineetha Mokkil

IN her candid memoir, Homeless: Growing up Lesbian and Dyslexic in India (2023), K. Vaishali shares her encounters with a world that almost always misunderstands disabilities and negates the lived experiences of Persons with Disabilities (PwDs). Vaishali, the winner of the Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puraskar 2024, actually began her book as a novel, thinking that fiction would be more comfortable terrain to step into. But soon, she realised it was a novel in name only. “My story poured out of me,” she says. “I felt a powerful urge to write everything down.” When she consulted her mentor Arpita Das, Founder of Yoda Press, a Delhi-based independent publishing house, Das advised her not to fictionalise her account. “That was a good suggestion,” she says. “I switched to nonfiction. I hoped my memoir would empower other people.” Poet and columnist Abhishek Anicca’s memoir-in-essays The Grammar of My Body (2023) delves into the mental and physical challenges of navigating life with disability and illness. Anicca’s memoir urges readers to see people with disabilities as fully-rounded humans with their own desires, quirks, and frailties, instead of underdogs to be pitied, or inspirational figures with superhuman powers of endurance.

Anicca (37), became disabled in his 20s. “I used to roam around, get drunk, and fall in love like all youngsters,” says Anicca, who now lives by himself in a flat in Patna that his family owns. “Life changed completely after I became disabled,” he shares. “It brought a whole new perspective.” For both Vaishali and Anicca, writing is a safe space. Whether it is poetry, prose, or journalling, writing allows them to explore topics of their choice; to share stories and build a community; to find peace, seek solace.