Repaying a debt that nation owes to disabled soldiers
Priyanka Singh

Disabled soldiers making fancy candles at the Paraplegic Rehabilitation Centre in SAS Nagar — Photo by Parvesh Chauhan

Their hands were trained to handle sophisticated guns, now these mould wax for candles and weave yarn for jerseys, as these former soldiers in wheelchairs gather the threads of their lives to give it some meaning. Discharged from the defence forces following incapacitating spinal injuries and away from their native land, their home now is the Paraplegic Rehabilitation Centre in SAS Nagar.

The centre was commissioned in 1978 by the then Chief of Army Staff, Gen O.P. Malhotra. Spread over an area of 10 acres acquired by the armed forces from the Punjab Government, it was set up as a support base for mitigating the sufferings of paraplegics and tetraplegics and providing them vocational training for self-sustenance.

The premises are neat, the corridors dotted with plants and the wards well-ventilated and spacious with four persons to a room. Besides this, there are modified bathrooms to facilitate movement. There are quarters for the families of the inmates and an ambulance which is available round the clock to rush emergency cases to the Command Hospital. There is only one such other centre in the whole of India at Kirki in Pune that was established in 1974. Such cases are dealt with in the spinal injury wards in Military Hospitals and only after some time has lapsed are they sent to the rehabilitation centres.

"The centre at Mohali was built for roughly 30 persons but has the potential to accommodate about 100. At present, there are 25 inmates who are provided with free lodging and medical facilities," says Col Jaswant Singh Spehia (retd), Director of the centre. The funds come from the Kendriya Sainik Board under the Western Command and the GOC-in-C is the patron of the centre.

"When they are declared invalid, usually their papers are in a mess. We take it upon ourselves to ensure that the pension and disability benefits are in order," he says. Religious discourses and sports activities are undertaken to divert their attention from their plight.

Twelve families are staying at the centre, some for as long as 18 years. They too lend a hand in the workshop. "The inmates are doing fancy candles, bedspreads and pullovers that are sold at Ladies Clubs and AWWA outlets," says Mrs lona D’Cunha, wife of Major-Gen Trevor D’Cunha, Chairman of the centre. Marketing the products, however, is a problem but this year was good for them with Hero Honda placing a bulk order for candles. They have to work in short shifts as bed sores and infections are common," says the candle-wali ma’am as she is fondly called by the inmates. A part of the profits goes to the centre for its upkeep while the remainder is distributed equally among the former soldiers.

The inmates do go on leave once in a while with their families but for those like gunner Kuldip Naik who is a bachelor and has to dine in the mess it does become very lonely. "Mazboot hona padta hai," he says. Having led a normal life, accepting their disability has not come easily to them but they feel better at the centre amid others like them.

Two of the inmates — Satnam Singh of 18 Sikh Regiment and Lance Naik Suresh Anand of 3 Garhwal — had won good medals at the Far Eastern European Games held in Bangkok in 1999. Their achievement inspires but somewhere there is sadness. "When we went to meet the Prime Minister, we felt good about ourselves but then we were given Rs 15,000 each and we felt small, Apne desh ka jhanda to hamne bhi fehraya tha...some other sportspersons were given Rs 5 lakh," says Satnam Singh, his despondency palpable as he adds "maayusi hoti hai."

While some of them sustained bullet injuries in action, the others were rendered handicapped in mishaps but there are no sob stories, only ample fortitude and stoic acceptance of their condition. They don’t seek charity but do hope for a fair return for their efforts. As I leave, I wish them all a happy Divali and their response—Divali mubarak ma’am—fills me with joy for it was said with just as much spirit as they would have said "Jai Hind." The realisation is just as sudden that it would be wrong to call them former soldiers. They remain faujis to the core. On the entrance, it says "For us too sky is the limit." My own little grouses with God seem so inconsequential.