very very interesting  love stories and good to give  life to  needy.

On 8/10/14, avinash shahi <shahi88avin...@gmail.com> wrote:
> On a midsummer afternoon, a pleasant breeze blows across Fateh Sagar
> Lake. Clear blue waters shimmer in the sun. Small waves lap against
> the rocks, occasionally breaking the quiet of the place. The
> Aravallis, made lush green by the monsoon, loom in a distance.
> Thirty-eight-year-old Kamlesh Kumar Vaishnav sits on the wall that
> rings the lake, holding his wife Geeta's hands. His black wheelchair,
> folded neatly, is parked next to him. They have been coming here for
> the last eight years, ever since they began dating. It was here that
> he professed his love for her; here that they decided to marry
> secretly and here that she broke the news of her pregnancy to him.
> "This place has a lot of memories," says Vaishnav.
> http://indianexpress.com/article/lifestyle/life-style/love-will-find-a-way-the-story-of-six-disabled-couples-who-never-thought-theyd-find-love/
> In Udaipur, a city with white havelis, palaces and forts set amidst
> hills, where turbaned men sing love ballads to the sound of the iktara
> on long boat rides, it is difficult not to fall in love. But Vaishnav
> and Geeta's love story is unusual. "I first saw her at the hospital,"
> he says.
>
> Though crippled by polio since childhood, Vaishnav has never let
> disability come in the way of life. Till Class V, his relatives would
> drop him to school each day on a cycle. At the age of 11, his family
> gave him a self-operated wheelchair. "That was independence," Vaishnav
> says. In 2006, he began working at Narayan Sewa Sansthan, a charitable
> organisation that runs hospitals for the disabled and performs
> surgeries for those afflicted by polio free of cost.
>
> Vaishnav was an attendant at the reception of the Udaipur hospital,
> preparing discharge papers of the patients. Geeta, who was crippled at
> the age of one, underwent a corrective surgery for severe polio at the
> hospital in 2008. "She had been admitted to the ward for a week. Her
> right leg was plastered. Even in hospital clothes, she looked so
> beautiful," Vaishnav says. For the next week, Vaishnav tried to talk
> to Geeta, but her parents were always around. When she returned to the
> hospital six months later to have her legs fixed with calipers, they
> spoke for the first time.
>
>  Kamlesh Vaishnav and Geeta at the Fateh Sagar Lake.
> Geeta, who is 10 years younger, lived in Banswara village, 165 km
> away, but she would travel for four hours in a bus every week to reach
> Udaipur and meet Vaishnav. "I would lie to my parents that I was going
> to see a friend or to the hospital for my check-up. We would meet at
> Fateh Sagar and talk. Other couples would take boat rides and go to
> Nehru Park (a small island in the middle of the lake). We could not,
> it was impossible with the wheelchair and calipers. But we were
> content to be with each other," she says.
>
> Narayan Sewa Sansthan, set up nearly three decades ago by retired
> government servant Kailash Agarwal, now 80, to treat patients
> suffering from polio and cerebral palsy, appears to be an unlikely
> place for love stories. On a regular day, a vast crowd sits outside
> the 1,100-bed hospital in Bari, on the outskirts of Udaipur city. They
> are relatives of patients, who come from as far as Bihar, Punjab and
> Karnataka for free treatment for their kin. Young men and women in
> uniform, many of them disabled, stream in and out of the wards that
> smell of disinfectant and illness. Agarwal's daughter-in-law, Vandana,
> the Sansthan's director, says the youngsters were all patients at the
> hospital once, who were treated and later employed there -- as nurses,
> ward boys, receptionists, accountants and in other capacities. Those
> who were not employed had the opportunity to attend classes in sewing,
> mobile repairing, computers, and other vocational skills.
>
> The institute also encourages young men and women to mingle. "We try
> to create an atmosphere where it is easy for them to find a life
> partner. Many of them think of themselves as burdens. This is a place
> where they meet new people and find a partner, a hamdard who
> understands them," Vandana says.
>
> Eleven years ago, they started organising mass weddings when a few
> patients approached them for "complete rehabilitation". Some told her
> they were "lonely" in life. "That is when we thought: why not search
> partners for them? We started talking to patients and families in the
> hospital. Slowly, word spread. We do background checks of both the boy
> and the girl: what kind of people they are, if the boy drinks or
> smokes, and the family's social and economic status," she says.
>
> Many of the alliances are of those who met and fell in love at the
> hospital.
>
> When couples face objections from the families, volunteers try to
> counsel the parents. "There have been many instances where we
> explained to the family that caste does not matter. Most often, love
> wins," says Vandana.
>
>  Manohar Singh and Mankunwar
> at Juda village near Udaipur
> In Juda village, 100 km from Udaipur, residents guide you towards a
> row of thatched-roof houses near the peepal tree where "langda" lives.
> Affected by polio when he was one, Manohar Singh was operated at the
> Udaipur hospital in 2008. At one of the check-ups after his surgery,
> he saw Mankunwar Kirad, 22, who was operated in 2010. "Our marriage
> was arranged by the Sansthan," Singh says. But, later, as his mother
> steps out to make tea, he hastily adds, covering his mouth with his
> hand to hide his wide, ear-to-ear grin, "It was the mole under her lip
> that I lost my heart to."
>
> The playfulness between them is evident. A few nights ago, while Singh
> was asleep, Mankunwar painted his hand with henna: his palm is now a
> deep orange. "We are very different. She is jovial and chatty. I am
> the quiet type," he says. The couple married in June this year along
> with 91 others at a mass wedding at Ramlila Maidan in Delhi.
>
> Pramila Meena and Vijay Singh Chauhan saw each other at the hospital
> seven years ago. She was a 15-year-old from Dungarpur in Rajasthan,
> undergoing a corrective surgery for polio. Chauhan was a 19-year-old
> ward boy, who had been struck by polio when he was two. Even though
> Pramila kept coming to the hospital for annual check-ups, they spoke
> only in September last year, when she joined sewing classes organised
> by the Sansthan.
>
> "I had seen him around and was impressed by his good looks, but never
> had the courage to talk to him," says Pramila, now 22. Recalling their
> first "meeting", Chauhan says she was in a black salwar suit, with
> kohl-lined eyes when she stepped inside the hospital: "I really liked
> her, but how could I talk?" Chauhan spoke to a volunteer and asked for
> help. "For about a month, she refused to talk as she was scared of a
> backlash from her family. Eventually, she gave in," says Chauhan, with
> a grin.
>
> The way forward was not easy for the young lovers. In a state where
> caste divisions are stark, the fact that Pramila belongs to the Meena
> community, while Chauhan is an "upper-caste" Rajput was a big hurdle.
> Pramila's family was bitterly opposed to the match. "I was affected by
> polio when I was just four months old. My parents died soon after. My
> grandparents raised me. They are old-fashioned and were very unhappy
> about my wish to marry outside our caste. Moreover, I had been
> rejected by many suitors because of my disability. So, my grandparents
> have always been very protective of me. But when they met Vijay, they
> really liked his politeness. They also realised that he was ready to
> accept me, even though his disability was far less than mine. I use
> crutches to walk. His family accepted me whole-heartedly. Eventually,
> my family also agreed," Pramila says, when we meet her at her one-room
> flat near the hospital. They married in June this year.
>
> Vaishnav and Geeta decided to marry in secret after almost two years
> of courtship. "Had we told our parents about it, we would never have
> been able to marry. I am a Brahmin and she is from a Scheduled Tribe.
> We thought our families would have killed us for even thinking about
> such a match. So, we quietly registered our marriage at the court and
> continued living at our respective homes. Weekly meetings in Udaipur
> continued as usual," he says.
>
> Two years later, when Geeta broke the news of her pregnancy to him,
> they had to reveal all. "We had no choice. I told my father he could
> give us any punishment he deemed fit. But he was happy. Neither he nor
> I had thought I would marry or have a family. For some months, my
> mother boycotted us. But everyone came around after our son's birth.
> He is three now and lives with my parents in Mawli village," Vaishnav
> says.
>
> Even though Vaishnav and Geeta were always encouraged by their
> families to pursue their education, they feel love has completely
> changed their lives. When he first proposed to her, she says she was
> surprised. "I had never imagined that I too would be a wife and a
> mother some day. When he told me about his feelings, I broke down. I
> had never thought someone could love me. He was frank about his
> disability, because I walk fine with calipers while he moves around on
> his wheelchair. But by then, our love had crossed all boundaries. It
> eclipsed everything else: our age gap, caste barriers, and the
> difference in the extent of disabilities."
>
> The love stories have inspired hope in other young patients who come
> to the hospital. Sukhpal Singh, a 25-year-old with polio, has arrived
> at the institute from Sangrur in Punjab. He has recently completed his
> BCA and is about to start looking for a job, but he tells us about
> battling mocking stares all his life. His mother, Labh Kaur, recalls
> how someone from their village was operated at the institute, and
> encouraged Sukhpal to "give it a try".
>
> As she hears the stories of love marriages arranged at the hospital,
> Kaur says, "I do not know what destiny has planned. But if those
> couples found love, surely my son will find a partner too. If he likes
> a girl here, I will agree. Even if she is not a Punjabi."
>
> --
> Avinash Shahi
> Doctoral student at Centre for Law and Governance JNU
>
>
>
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