Very very nise, was great read Sent from my iPhone
On 29.01.2014, at 18:38, "Shiv" <shivrah...@gmail.com> wrote: > Here is the full article: > > Source: > http://in.news.yahoo.com/why-should-disability-spell-the-end-of-romance-055837779.html# > > Why Should Disability Spell the End of Romance? > Flirting. Heartbreak. Clumsy first dates. Matrimonial sites. Studying for > three degrees. Salsa classes. The coming-of-age story of a young woman who > began losing her eyesight at 15. > By Nidhi Goyal | Grist Media - 6 hours ago > > The wheelchair Kamasutra: Image courtesy Streetsie.com as seen on > sexualityanddisability.orgLike most Indian urban teenage girls, my love life > revolved around the stars of Bollywood. I had countless celebrity crushes > growing up. The one I remember the most was Abhishek Bachchan, who I was 100 > percent sure I was going to marry. > > When I was an undergraduate student working towards my B.Com Degree at > Narsee Monjee College of Commerce and Economics in my hometown of Mumbai, it > turned out that college was only five minutes away from Abhishek's house. > Which meant, of course, that passing by his house became a morning ritual > for me and another Bachchan-crazy friend of mine. In the way that some > people go to temples, we went to Jalsa - abode of the Bachchans - and > pestered the security personnel to tell us the timing of his coming and > goings. To the dismay of the guards, we once even followed his car. > > When I was 15, I was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, a degenerative eye > disorder. By the time I was in college and my love for Abhishek was in full > swing, so was the loss of my eyesight. As I dropped off cards on his > birthday and wrote him love poems, my ability to see was steadily declining. > Of course, this made little difference to my love for Abhishek, who I had > only managed to speak to about twice: instances where all I could splutter > out was a request for an autograph. But when it came to the less > tongue-tied, non-celebrity crushes on classmates and friends, my eyesight > began to make all the difference. > The writer Nidhi Goyal. Photo credit: Nidhi Goyal > Teenage crushes are, by and large, a cause of anxiety. You spend days > pondering over what to wear so he notices you, how you can stop him from > spotting that new splotch of acne on your face, and why oh why is he always > talking to the girl with that L'Oreal-ad-type hair? For me, it was a wholly > different ball game. When you can't see, all social interactions become more > difficult. Imagine trying to distinguish between the one hundred different > voices of your classmates. Of never fully knowing whether someone is smiling > at you or not. Of not realising you are standing next to the boy of your > dreams. > > Until I lost my eyesight, I never realised just how many aspects of romance > begin with vision. You look at someone, you make eye contact, and - as the > story goes - sparks begin to fly. I, however, needed to discover new ways to > make sparks. As a teenager, it was so frustrating for me to listen to a guy > with a nice voice and not know what his face looked like. Was he looking at > me? How was he looking at me? I constantly had an added layer of anxiety > when I was trying to navigate my attractions and crushes. > > As a sighted person (what people who are visually impaired call people who > have their sight), for example, if you notice the object of your affection > standing at one end of the hallway, you can always find an excuse to stroll > past them. But I was missing out on all these small opportunities; small > opportunities that eventually made a big difference. Thankfully, I had a > group of fantastic girl friends who were determined to get my sparks up and > sparking! They would make an effort to guide me in the direction of my > latest crush (both with and without telling me beforehand), and then when we > approached him they would tap me and say, 'Hey Nidhi, isn't that your > friend?' By this time, most people knew I had almost completely lost my > sight, and the guy would be compelled to acknowledge my presence. > > I always wondered how much of that recognition was desire and how much was > simply obligation. > > > * * * > > The idea of people with disabilities as asexual beings who have no need for > love, sex or romantic relationships is ridiculous. However, it is one that > has a stronghold in most people's minds. As I grew into my 20s, the absurd > anecdotes of me trying to bump into my crushes in college hallways developed > into the more serious recognition that because I was blind, I was very > rarely seen as a potential candidate for a relationship, or even a date. I > remember a male friend of mine from a very conservative, traditional family, > who was explicitly forbidden from inviting any of his women friends home. He > told me on the phone one day that his mother had cooked a delicious > vegetarian dish, and in response, I joked that I would love to come over and > try it. He replied with, "Yes, sure. You are always welcome." I was shocked, > then I realised what had happened. I was a woman with a disability who would > never be a prospective candidate, so I didn't, in his family's mind (or in > his, for that matter) count as a 'woman'. > > It wasn't a malicious act - my friends love and support me a great deal. But > it's ingrained so deeply in people's mind-sets that disability and sexuality > don't intersect that it reflects in their behaviour, even if unconsciously. > People throw around words like "normal", instead of "nondisabled", without > thinking twice about it. Others feel like they need to offer pity and > charity, because they assume that people with disabilities can't support > themselves. I think before we even get to the idea of dating, we need to > break down these barriers in people's minds. One thing that's done > frequently by the international disabled community is to refer to > nondisabled people as "temporarily able-bodied people", or TABs. I love this > construction, because it serves as a reminder to nondisabled people that > disability is not something 'other' or alien, and that most probably, at > some point in everyone's life, they will live with impairment. > The writer on holiday. Photo credit: Nidhi Goyal > When it comes to relationships in India, the ultimate tension, worry and > goal is almost always marriage. And because one individual's marriage - or > its absence - is often seen as a family or community concern, there was no > dearth of opinions when it came to the question of "marrying off" a blind > girl. I remember when I was 14 or 15 and my disability was first diagnosed: > one of my father's close friends advised him to hide my disability while > they could and get me married by the time I was 18. The assumption, of > course, was that once I had fully lost my sight, no one would want me. My > older brother, who also has a disability, was once advised by a family > friend that he could "marry someone from a slum". This is not to imply that > someone from a slum is somehow worth less, but it's telling of mind-sets > when people place the disabled alongside the economically marginalised. > Society views the two groups in the same category: not good enough. I'm > fortunate to have parents who are really open-minded, and who have never > forced my brother or me into a relationship. But not everyone is that lucky. > Instances of people with disabilities, and in particular women, hiding their > impairment or having to compensate for it with large dowries, are a frequent > occurrence even today. > > It's not that I've ruled out the idea of marriage; I just want to do it on > my own terms. Two years ago, I set up a profile up on Shaadi.com. A > nondisabled friend and I would often browse through the site together > looking for prospective grooms. But I quickly learned that if I - as a > woman with a disability - expressed interest in a nondisabled man, it was > not received well, and was sometimes even seen as offensive. However, in the > six months that I had my profile up, I received about a dozen calls > expressing interest in me. Now on the surface, this shouldn't be surprising. > I have a smacking profile as far as the tick marks go: I have three degrees, > a 'good' family background, and a ton of interesting hobbies and talents. > But what all the interested callers had failed to notice was my disability. > Oh, and in case you were wondering, there was a whole paragraph dedicated to > my impairment on my profile. > > I remember this one educated, progressive man who called to say I'd be > perfect for his son, but from what he was saying, I guessed he hadn't read > about my disability. I clarified this with him because it had happened too > many times by then. He paused. People generally go into shock, because they > don't believe that someone who's disabled will even be on the website. They > can't connect the picture they've conjured up of the well-educated, outgoing > girl from the profile with someone who's also visually impaired. So after a > few moments of silence, the man said, "Really?" So I repeated myself: "Yes, > I can't see. I'm blind. Is that okay?" He said, "No, no, beta, I think > uh.ya.good luck," before he hung up. > > But it wasn't just men on the Internet who thought I didn't deserve any > better. I remember once my sighted woman friend and I chanced upon a profile > of a man who didn't seem particularly special: his education was very basic > and I earned far more than him. I was shocked and hurt when my friend, who > is from a socioeconomic background similar to mine, said she wasn't > interested, but that I should definitely consider him. This was while she, > on the hand, was looking at men who earned six times her income. > > When it comes to disabled people getting into relationships, the argument > that "beggars can't be choosers" is often used. In a country like India, > where all women are devalued in comparison with their male counterparts, > women with disabilities are seen as existing on the lowest rung - or on the > cheapest shelf - of the marriage market. While it is not uncommon for > disabled men to find nondisabled wives, disabled women are told they should > feel lucky if they get anyone at all. Not to mention having to find ways, > monetary or otherwise, to compensate for their impairments. Through my > various exploits on Shaadi.com and looking at the kind of men who'd be > "willing" to "take me", this thought in my head was always crystal clear: I'm > no beggar, and even though I'm disabled, I'm not going to marry just anyone. > > > * * * > > A real shifting point in my understanding of how the sexuality of disabled > people is perceived by society came in 2011 when I joined Point of View, a > media-based women's rights platform in Mumbai. At the time, Point of View, > together with feminist organisation CREA, was working on an initiative that > was right up my street - they were creating the first ever online resource > on sexuality and disability. The timing was perfect. I had wanted to work > with women with disabilities for a while now, and co-authoring the website > Sexuality and Disability was the perfect way to do it. > > I threw myself into the project because it reflected the realities of my > life: I understand women and I understand disability. As someone who > acquired a disability, I understand what it's like to be disabled and > nondisabled; where the two clash and where they overlap. Women with > disabilities in particular have a layered experience; I've found that > neither disability rights groups nor women's rights groups fully understand > the intersection of the two. > > Through my own life experiences, I already knew about the societal > prejudices that existed around disability. However, during my work at Point > of View, I realised that I, myself, had internalised some of those > prejudices. Before joining the project, I always had a sense that if I ever > entered a relationship with a nondisabled man, the relationship would be > somewhat unequal because of my disability. But after meeting so many women > with disabilities, and seeing how they deal with their lives, this idea > began to change. I realised that in a relationship, a wheelchair or a white > cane is not the only thing you bring to the equation. You bring your > personality, your quirks, your stories - and all those are a lot more > important. Working on the website and meeting these women allowed me to > understand that when I enter a relationship, the fact that I sometimes need > a little help will not make the relationship unequal. > > While working on the website, something else I realised was that oftentimes, > people with disabilities had barely had any interactions with people of the > gender they were attracted to. During this time, I'd befriend people with > disabilities, and go out with them for coffees or a lunch to get to know > them better. And I remember this one visually impaired guy in whose level of > confidence I noticed a huge change over the time that I knew him. So I asked > him once, "Listen, what's changed?" And he said, "You know, before you, I > don't think any woman - forget for dating - even wanted to go for a coffee > with me." He had never gotten the opportunity to just hang out with a woman > before. And the fact that I went out with him, even as friends, brought > about this change. It's incredible just how much regular socializing > disabled people miss out on, and how the smallest thing can make the biggest > difference. > > I've had strange conversations with nondisabled friends, though. Around the > time I was working on the Sexuality and Disability website, a very educated > friend asked me what I was up to, and I explained I was involved with a > website looking at how people with disabilities were not asexual beings, and > had the right to be in a relationship. I was stunned by his response, which > was: "Oh, so now you are going to force us to have relationships with > disabled women?" > > Most people still really don't get it. > > > * * * > > Remember all those movies that you were convinced were going to be the story > of your life? Was it You've Got Mail? Kuch Kuch Hota Hai? Or even the > glamorous life of a Disney princess? When we fall in love, we often use the > scripts we find in popular culture to guide us, whether we are conscious of > it or not. But disability tends to be invisible in pop culture. Think about > it. How many films have you seen that featured a disabled romance? How many > blind actresses doing salsa (which is a hobby of mine)? How many heroes in > wheelchairs swivelling around to a song like Dhinka Chika? When we do see > people with disabilities onscreen, they're largely portrayed as people who > need caregivers or pity. For example, Sanjay Leela Bhansali's Mann starring > Manisha Koirala and Aamir Khan has the female protagonist meet with an > accident, and she ends her romance with Aamir's character because she feels > as a disabled person, she isn't good enough for him any more. In the end, > there's a teary reunion and he accepts her in spite of her disability. > Aamir's > character is exalted for this, while Manisha's character is not seen as an > equal in this relationship at all. Why must nondisabled people who 'accept' > people with disabilities be glorified? > > With these questions swirling in my mind and no pop culture precedents that > teach a blind woman how to love, or even date, a nondisabled man, I'm > constantly reinventing my own ideas of romance. For example, what should I > be doing to make myself attractive to a man? To figure this out, I put this > question to my visually impaired male friends, who told me that attraction > could spark from the simplest of things: a girl's perfume, the smile in her > voice, or just the way she shook hands. And then it occurred to me that they > were no different from other men who might have a particular type or prefer > a certain look. With disability in the picture, you just have to be > creative. And in my opinion, the onus of creativity doesn't need to always > fall on the disabled person! > > Like in any dating saga, there are always some funny, some sweet, and some > utterly bizarre moments. The disabled dating world is not always that > different. I recall a hilarious story involving two visually impaired > friends of mine, who had gone on a date to a fancy Mumbai restaurant at > which you could smoke hookahs. It was their first date, and at the > restaurant, they shifted tables three times to find a spot that was cosy and > private. They were happy, chatting, and holding hands. The world around them > soon melted away. When the hookah's coals had to be stirred or the flavour > replenished, they didn't have to give it a thought: a waiter would simply > materialize at the right time and take care of it. > > After several visits to their table, the chatty waiter who had been > attending to them began to make forays into their private universe, and > attempted to join the conversation. And at some point in the night, when the > boy asked him to keep a look out because they'd be ready to order their > dinner in 5 minutes, the waiter said, to their intense embarrassment, "Aap > chinta mat kariye, main door tab se aap hi ko dekh raha hoon (You don't have > to worry, I've been watching you from afar for a long time)." The romance of > the evening was effectively shattered. > > Or take this sighted woman friend of mine, who told me a story that really > made me pause with wonder. She was on a date with a visually impaired man > who was holding her hand and said to her, "Nice nail paint, but you could > have used a coloured one." And she gasped and asked, "How the hell did you > know?" - because it was true, she was wearing a transparent coat of nail > polish. He responded by telling her it was possible to distinguish the two > by feeling the density; if the paint felt thicker, it was coloured. Just > like my friend, I was amazed at this small moment in a new romance that > showed just how wonderfully creative dating can be. > > I'm sure that like me and my friends, people across the world with > disabilities navigate relationships and love in tons of interesting, unique > ways. The problem is that because mainstream popular culture tends to be run > by able-bodied individuals, we hardly get to hear about these romances. And > as a result, both disabled and nondisabled people end up believing that the > only way love happens is between two able bodied, typically heterosexual, > individuals. And worse, society then stigmatizes people who don't fit into > those boxes. > > Love, sex and romantic relationships are for everyone, whether or not you > have a disability. It's really high time people started accepting that. > > > * * * > > Today, I've left my dreams of Abhishek far behind. I'm 28 years old, and > studying at the London School of Economics for a Master's Degree in > Development Studies. I want to look at issues of disability and see how they > fit into a wider context of global development. Sadly, most Development > Studies programmes still don't offer a disability component. But I'm > persevering in trying to find a way to incorporate my own understanding of > disability into the sorts of work we are doing at the university. It's > exciting and fulfilling, and my earlier determination to find a husband - > preferably from the ilk of Bollywood - is a thing of the past. > > Having worked on the issue of sexuality and disability for some time now, I > often get asked whether things are different here in London. Do the > prejudices and barriers that I encountered so frequently in India exist in a > developed country? First off, issues of access are far, far better. I can > walk unaided on the roads, and use services like the university's Disability > Support Office for any extra needs I may have. There are plenty of attempts > to level the playing field in terms of infrastructure, and that makes my > life a whole lot easier. But what about dating and relationships? > > I have met with several disability rights groups and activists during my > time here, and it would seem that the scenario across oceans is not all that > different. Janet Price, an activist I have worked with who is herself in a > wheelchair, says when it comes to relationships or personal spaces, there's > still a wide gap in the UK. She believes that the connection between > disability and sexuality, even in a country as 'advanced' this, still needs > to be made. > > And as for me, having been here for barely six months, I can't really speak > for myself - between adjusting to my new life and heaps of coursework, I > haven't been on any dates! But what I have recently begun to realise is that > because I forge connections with people differently, my friendly actions can > often be construed for something quite different. Take meeting people on > campus. If I was a sighted person, I would be able to casually bump into > acquaintances when I saw them and strike up a conversation. Since I don't > have this option, and it's difficult to remember someone's voice after one > interaction, when I meet someone new I often exchange numbers with them. So > this one time, I was at a campus networking event and I met a man at the end > of the evening in a cloakroom, where he helped me get my coat. We chatted > for a while, and as we were getting ready to leave, he said, "See you > around". And the question in my mind - how would I see him again - just > popped out as I asked, "But when will I see you?" After a little laughter on > both sides, we exchanged numbers. All this while, a friend of mine had been > observing us from the sidelines, and as I went back to her, she gave me a > knowing laugh. And I said, "What? I was just networking." And she replied, > "Hey Nidhi, that's not called networking. That's called flirting!" > > That was when I realised was that my simple way of keeping in touch, in the > nondisabled world, was a way of hitting on someone! So in small ways like > this, it does sometimes get a little confusing. But you know what? It's a > fun confusion, and I like it. > > Nidhi Goyal is a disability rights activist and writer. She co-authored the > website www.sexualityanddisability.org and is currently pursuing a Masters > in Development Studies at the London School of Economics. > > Regards, > > Shiv > ----- Original Message ----- > From: "Amar Jain" <amarjain2...@gmail.com> > To: <accessindia@accessindia.org.in> > Sent: Wednesday, January 29, 2014 6:29 PM > Subject: [AI] A Must Read: Why Should Disability Spell the End of Romance? > > > Guys I haven't ever seen such a best expression of thoughts and emotions. > > Why Should Disability Spell the End of Romance? > http://in.news.yahoo.com/why-should-disability-spell-the-end-of-romance-055837779.html > Regards > -- > Amar Jain. > Website: www.amarjain.com > > Time to meet up again! > Register for AccessIndia Convention 2014: > http://accessindia.org.in/harish/convention.htm > > > > Register at the dedicated AccessIndia list for discussing accessibility of > mobile phones / Tabs on: > http://mail.accessindia.org.in/mailman/listinfo/mobile.accessindia_accessindia.org.in > > > Search for old postings at: > http://www.mail-archive.com/accessindia@accessindia.org.in/ > > To unsubscribe send a message to > accessindia-requ...@accessindia.org.in > with the subject unsubscribe. > > To change your subscription to digest mode or make any other changes, please > visit the list home page at > http://accessindia.org.in/mailman/listinfo/accessindia_accessindia.org.in > > > Disclaimer: > 1. Contents of the mails, factual, or otherwise, reflect the thinking of the > person sending the mail and AI in no way relates itself to its veracity; > > 2. AI cannot be held liable for any commission/omission based on the mails > sent through this mailing list.. > > > Time to meet up again! > Register for AccessIndia Convention 2014: > http://accessindia.org.in/harish/convention.htm > > > > Register at the dedicated AccessIndia list for discussing accessibility of > mobile phones / Tabs on: > http://mail.accessindia.org.in/mailman/listinfo/mobile.accessindia_accessindia.org.in > > > Search for old postings at: > http://www.mail-archive.com/accessindia@accessindia.org.in/ > > To unsubscribe send a message to > accessindia-requ...@accessindia.org.in > with the subject unsubscribe. > > To change your subscription to digest mode or make any other changes, please > visit the list home page at > http://accessindia.org.in/mailman/listinfo/accessindia_accessindia.org.in > > > Disclaimer: > 1. Contents of the mails, factual, or otherwise, reflect the thinking of the > person sending the mail and AI in no way relates itself to its veracity; > > 2. AI cannot be held liable for any commission/omission based on the mails > sent through this mailing list.. Time to meet up again! Register for AccessIndia Convention 2014: http://accessindia.org.in/harish/convention.htm Register at the dedicated AccessIndia list for discussing accessibility of mobile phones / Tabs on: http://mail.accessindia.org.in/mailman/listinfo/mobile.accessindia_accessindia.org.in Search for old postings at: http://www.mail-archive.com/accessindia@accessindia.org.in/ To unsubscribe send a message to accessindia-requ...@accessindia.org.in with the subject unsubscribe. To change your subscription to digest mode or make any other changes, please visit the list home page at http://accessindia.org.in/mailman/listinfo/accessindia_accessindia.org.in Disclaimer: 1. Contents of the mails, factual, or otherwise, reflect the thinking of the person sending the mail and AI in no way relates itself to its veracity; 2. AI cannot be held liable for any commission/omission based on the mails sent through this mailing list..
