Everyone is always shocked when I tell them how many disabled people there are in India. Two hundred two million five hundred thousand is a huge number and a typical response is: “WHAT? 202 million? How is that possible? How come I never see them?”

One reason you never see them is that it’s just too damn difficult for people with disabilities to get around in India. Public buildings aren’t accessible; transport doesn’t accommodate them, footpaths don’t exist. Bathrooms are for able-bodied people and good luck if you are incontinent and adult and need a space where you can lie down to have your diaper changed. But that’s not the worst of it. We all deal with difficulties when traveling in India and we get through them with a sense of humour and a certain adaptability. But bad attitudes and refusals to help hit you personally and emotionally.

Two of my daughters, two friends and I went to Mussoorie last weekend. Believe me, I thought long and hard before setting out. My 2nd daughter Moy Moy is 26. She gets around via wheelchair, needs diapers and eats with the help of a tube. Deciding to go at all was an act of courage and hope. I planned carefully, packed everything she could possibly require and thought that with four able-bodied adults along for the ride, we would be able to manage – if not with ease, at least sufficiently. I reckoned without the “Policies” of the hotel we chose to patronize.

Entrance gate to Rokeby Manor HotelWe arrived in Mussoorie at one PM and headed straight to Rokeby Manor for lunch. Rokeby is a heritage hotel, recently restored, absolutely beautiful and a big splurge for someone who earns an NGO-type salary. There was an asphalt driveway and we were able to roll Moy Moy’s stroller right into the lobby of the place. But because the restaurant was on the first floor and there was no lift, my daughter’s fiancé and I had to carry her upstairs. The stairway is curving and treacherous, but the view from the restaurant was worth a look and we chanced it. Coming back down after our lunch, however, and almost missing my footing, I realised we shouldn’t chance it again.

So when we returned for tea after a 2-hour walk in the woods, we settled ourselves in the ground floor lounge and asked to be served there. Ooops.

We were asking a lot. And apparently our request was against policy. The waiter told us it wouldn’t be possible. When I spoke to the guy at the front desk to explain the situation, he first responded like a human being and said “No problem.” But then the waiter whispered in his ear that the manager had already said no.

I asked to speak to the manager and he was adamant: According to the hotel’s policy, no one could be served in the lounge because some of the bedrooms adjoined it and the guests there might be disturbed. I explained again that my daughter had a disability and couldn’t go up the stairs. He repeated the party line: guests might be disturbed. They had two amazing compromises: we could have our tea in the garden (it was pouring out) or they could serve Moy Moy alone in the lounge while the rest of us went upstairs. When I asked him to think about that one he just repeated it again: Moy Moy could be served by herself while the rest of us abandoned her and went upstairs.

We decided to leave. Through a friend, I managed to get the cell number of Sanjay Narang, the owner of the hotel, and I called him from the very friendly dhaba we went to for our long-overdue tea. He was charming and diplomatic and he apologised for his staff’s behaviour. He assured me that there was no intention to disrespect people with “challenges”, but that this was the very first time such a thing had ever happened. As far as he was aware, no one with a disability had ever asked for such an exception to be made.

There’s a reason for that. Young woman in adapted stroller, pushed by her sister who is pushed by her fiance

Any organisation which believes in inclusion makes that belief clear: to its staff and its customers. It’s part of its ethos, its DNA. Whatever the policy, whatever the protocol, whatever the precedent – if a person arrives and has a genuine difficulty: you put the person first. It’s not complicated. It doesn’t take brains or training or any special super-power. All it takes is simple human kindness. Imagination. The ability to see that it could be my father or sister or auntie or cousin or, God forbid, ME, in that chair. When a hotel or any other establishment has that ability, it is apparent in everything it does. When it doesn’t, that’s palpably obvious too. No wonder no one had ever asked before.

As I thought about all this, I realised that Sanjay Narang needed to learn a bit more about inclusion and about disability. I could send him some ideas for simple ways to create a more physically accessible space, of course, but even more important – training for staff in inclusive attitudes and a truly welcoming approach. So I sent him an SMS and asked him to share his email address.

He responded: vidur.kapur@mars-world.com is our GM and will be able to review and implement your suggestions quickly.

I replied: You need to hear what I have to say too!

Sanjay: He runs the hotel and is well-qualified to handle and implement all suggestions. I would be telling him what you tell me so it’s quicker this way.

Then after a pause he said: May I ask how you got my number?

Me: You can learn too, Sanjay. You’ll be a better person.

Him: I guess that applies to us all.

Me: So . . . your email?

Him: How did you get my mbl?

For Sanjay Narang and the many who design buildings, bathrooms, train stations, theatres and restaurants, inclusion, if considered at all, is an afterthought and a PR move. They don’t really believe in it because they don’t really understand it. They haven’t yet had the experience, perhaps, of navigating a public space with (or as) a person who has difficulties and therefore they don’t truly appreciate how thin the line actually is which divides us and them.

So they don’t yet realise that true inclusion is neither a laundry list nor a fool-proof recipe. Because it involves human beings who are endlessly surprising and varied, true inclusion is more of an attitude than a framework or a policy. Every situation cannot be anticipated. An attitude of yes, of acceptance, of welcome can be. At Rokeby and at so many fancy new malls, Metros, airports and other public spaces, that attitude doesn’t exist. The message hasn’t gone out yet that people come first so staff don’t feel empowered to discard rules that no longer work nor do most customers feel empowered to request the help they need.

It’s a sad little world we are creating.

Rokeby Manor is a lovely hotel and it has been a pleasure to watch the wreck it once was transformed into its present stately beauty. Sanjay Narang has proven that even a ruin can be rescued; that nothing is beyond redemption. I’m waiting now to see if he applies his own sweet architectural logic to the disgrace that his policies embody. I believe he can do it. The guy who pulled Rokeby out of the mud can surely manage this little challenge.

Showing 7 comments
  • Laura Conrad
    Reply

    It was your mother who started me thinking about the accessibility problem. She’d had knee surgery and needed to go to the hospital for therapy, and she came to dinner at my mother’s place and complained that the physical therapy department had a door that she couldn’t open on her crutches. This might have been in the 70’s or early 80’s, before the Americans with Disabilities act.

  • Sidd
    Reply

    Somebody has been called out! And that this blog has good readership makes it all the more interesting to see what happens next. Your move Rokeby.

  • Sangeeta
    Reply

    ????

  • Ruchika sethi takkar
    Reply

    Very glad you wrote this note . Invisible barriers are far deeper to break . Mom to my 14 year old has shown me a face of india which abhors disability and prides itself in being elevated and god fearing but not serving humanity . Sensitivity cannot be taught . Our Preamble of the Constitution lost its meaning when I wanted to take manavi to public places as well seek admission …

  • Reshma
    Reply

    Dear Jo,
    I’m really sorry that you and your daughter had to go through this experience and for many other such which I can only guess at.

  • John D'silva
    Reply

    Jo,
    Rokeby is such a beautiful place; I can NEVER imagine staff been rude.
    Instead of enjoying the beauty of the place, you have written such a long blog full of complains.
    Lady you lost the plot. One should learn from you how to demean and insult.
    Forget Rokeby, all hotels have rules and regulations.
    And YES, Rights of Admission reserved is necessary.
    I am an avid traveller and it makes a difference.
    I have visited Rokeby while staying at JW. It’s just beautiful.
    No one invited you to the hotel and why this hue and cry.
    You are complaining about elevator??
    Which fort / bungalow have one, please tell me.
    There are other small hotels /restaurants around Landour you should have tried going there.
    CharDukan , but it doesn’t have clean toilet.

    I wonder why for every small little complain people start calling the owner of the hotel.
    I am sure you have the mobile number of Chief Minister and Prime Minister because nothing is great in and around your Dehradun.
    Do you call Mr. Bharati Mittal / Mr. Anil Ambani when your mobile services are down. I am sure YOU Can’t.

    I think this is CHEAP PUBLICITY to promoted your NGO, hence this whole drama.
    RED button on your website saying DONATE says it all.
    I would have written this on Rokeby Facebook, but I like keep it private.
    Hence I have written on your blog.
    JD – UK

  • Shaila
    Reply

    Ms Chopra, how typical of you to understate the vile.

    As for ‘John D’silva’, your hyperbolic outrage would be mildly amusing if it wasn’t so tedious. Did you not read the post in your haste to jump to Rokeby’s defence, then? Hey, you aren’t its management in disguise are you? Haha, rhetorical question. Even management stopped short of throwing a hissy little fit.

    As a professional trained to work with children with behavioural issues, I am unmoved by frenzy, but I’ll leave you with a cool factoid that everyone in ‘her’ Dehradun (what ARE you smoking, JD???) knows: That little non-profit Ms Chopra runs? It’s changed life for hundreds of children of the sort that you clearly don’t give a rat’s rear about. Their families as well. So sing the praises of whatever hotel till the cows come home for all one cares. But know this: Jo Chopra speaks for some of the most vulnerable, voiceless people on earth. Many would describe it as God’s work. There are very few individuals as committed to bringing light and compassion into our sad, cynical world. You, ‘John D’silva’, sure as hell are not one of them.

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