Rajinder Johar: a voice for the disabled

Rajinder Johar, chief co-ordinator of a non-government organisation, Family of Disabled, New Delhi.

I used to work as a senior occupational therapist at King George's Medical College in Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh.

As usual, I returned home in the evening to my wife Shashi, son Pankaj and daughter Preeti. Around 10.30pm there was a knock on the door.

I opened it to a group of three men; they wanted to make a phone call. As I let them in, they ordered me to hand over all cash and valuables. I protested.

During the scuffle one of them fired his gun, hitting me in the chest. Fearing for my family I rushed towards the adjoining room. Another shot hit me in the neck. I went numb and collapsed.

When the thieves saw me bleeding and heard my family raise the alarm, they escaped. My wife and a neighbour rushed me to the same hospital that I worked for. I was operated on immediately.

Disabled for life

I was in the hospital for five months.

Doctors hoped I would recover and be able to move my limbs. But I didn't. The second bullet rendered me physically challenged for life.

After I was discharged, we moved to Delhi. My father, Jai Narayan, lived there. He put on a brave face, but I knew it was a blow for him to see me in this condition. For 10 years he tried to find a way to get me back on my feet, trying all kinds of massages, medicines and oils. Sadly, he passed away in 1996.

On our arrival in Delhi, sympathy poured in from family and friends. It only made me feel more miserable.

For years I had been an occupational therapist who gave hope and courage to patients. And I could do nothing to help myself.

Going from breadwinner to burden was unfathomable. What did I do to deserve such a meaningless life? I fought with my emotions - anger and frustration.

My only pastime was watching TV and reading magazines. I didn't know how much longer I could keep up this daily routine.

There were times when I thought that life wasn't worth living. Because of my education I knew all the medical limitations I faced.

Life couldn't get any worse My wife, who had worked at a bank in Lucknow, now had to be the single provider.

She showed a lot of courage. The children were too young to understand how life had changed for their parents.

My life would have remained a struggle had it not been for the support of my elder brother, Surinder, who worked as an engineer in New Delhi. All these years he has visited me every day and brought me magazines to read.

To stave off the pain and feelings of insecurity I became a voracious reader. One day I read in a magazine that quadriplegics do not live for more than two years.

Whatever was left of my will to live was lost after reading this. Thinking that I wouldn't survive, my desire to do anything in life vanished. For the next six years, I began adjusting to my condition.

I realised life couldn't get any worse than it already was, and resolved to put my knowledge as a therapist to good use. My faculties were intact and I could use two stiff fingers and a thumb of my right hand to type.

As an OT, I had treated people with cerebral palsy, paraplegia, polio and other debilitating diseases. I wanted to use my expertise in some way to improve the lives of the physically challenged - especially those from the disadvantaged sections of society.

Life took a new turn in 1992.That's when I opened a trust, Family of Disabled (FOD). Soon after, I registered a bi-annual magazine, Voice, to create awareness and sensitise people to various aspects of disabilities.

Since I didn't have the money to employ people, I looked for volunteers. I place an advertisement with the local cable operator; three volunteered.

My nephew Sanjeev Dhupar, a chartered accountant, was very encouraging. He gave me a lightweight electronic typewriter. For hours at a time I would type out pages of interviews, poems, facts and quotes about the physically challenged.

With Sanjeev's support, who funded the magazine, we managed to get 1,000 copies of the first edition of Voice printed, which is the first of its kind in the country. Complimentary copies were sent to individuals and organisations, but the response has been lukewarm.

The number of copies published hasn't risen above 1,500. Around that time a national newspaper interviewed me.

People who had become physically challenged through accidents and anxious caretakers of physically challenged people began calling up for guidance and inspiration after reading the article.

It was an overwhelming feeling to be able to satisfy their queries and counsel them.

Presently FOD has eight people working with a few strong supporters and volunteers including some charitable organisations and private donors.

Economic independence is the key

FOD decided to help the physically challenged poor by setting up the Apna Rozgar Scheme in 1998. The purpose was to help the physically challenged kick-start self-employment.

We asked NGOs working with the physically challenged to refer people to us. Initially we offered Rs2,500 (Dh231), and now we offer Rs3,000 (Dh277) worth of merchandise to be sold to set up a business of one's own choice.

No one believed that anything substantial could be achieved with this sum! We also showed them how to run the business, procure stocks and keep accounts.

All this was done to make them self-sufficient. Today, I can vouch for an 80 per cent success rate.

So far, 351 individuals in Delhi in the age group of 17 to 70 have benefited from this endeavour. From running a grocery to a paan shop or a cloth store, they are involved in various businesses and have become economically independent and are able to look after their respective families.

There were times when we ran short of funds, but somehow we pulled through and in 2000 we started an annual art exhibition at a gallery in New Delhi where the physically challenged showcase and sell their works.

I may be restricted to my bed, but I still run this organisation. It's hard to believe that at the age of 58, I have plans for the future! My next step is to set up a multi-purpose training and production centre for physically challenged people.

I realise that funds are required for all of this, but I'm confident that help will pour in.

Snapshots

The person I admire most ... My daughter Preeti, 25. At a tender age, she's taken it upon herself to run FOD. She often argues with me and tries to convince me when we have conflicting ideas.

I am very proud of the fact that everything she does is in the best interests of the organisation. I used to worry about who would look after the organisation once I'm gone.

Preeti is well versed on all aspects. We discuss and implement ideas together as she has a modern approach to things. Her support has given me a new lease of life.

- As told to Nilima Pathak

To contact Johar, email:
contact@familyofdisabled.org