Gift of Mobility – A Story of Hope (21 Feb 2011)
Imagine being born into a life where your body refuses to carry you forward. Imagine watching other children run to school, climb trees, chase kites—while you remain seated on the floor, waiting for someone to carry you. For many differently abled people in our tribal belts, this is not imagination. This is life.
During our surveys in the villages, we met seven such people—men, women, and children—who had spent their lives in stillness. Their homes had become their boundaries, their families their lifelines. And yet, behind their quiet eyes was a longing: “If only I could move on my own, just once…”
One of them was a boy whose story remains etched in our memory. His father, Dhondu, worked as a caretaker of farms, earning just enough to feed his family. But his son had been born with polio. His arms were strong, but his legs had never supported him. Since birth, he depended on others to move even a few steps. The child would see the outside world once or twice in year as Dhondu and his family would be busy in earning their breads.
We knew that what these families needed was not sympathy—it was a chance. And sometimes, a chance arrives in the most unexpected ways.
Around the same time, Morgan Van Breda, a young woman from Canada, was journeying across India—3,300 km on the road—spreading awareness about spinal cord injuries and carrying with her a message of courage. With the support of Janhvi Charitable Trust’s Asha Tai and Ashley, our Chief Trustee Shirish Patil reached out to Morgan. Together, with the help of donors and well-wishers, nearly 40 specially designed wheelchairs were procured.
These were no ordinary wheelchairs. They could be pedalled by hand—like a small three-wheeler—giving the user independence to drive themselves across distances. And with one simple adjustment, the pedalling unit could be removed, turning it into a regular wheelchair for use indoors. Mobility, dignity, and freedom—all in one gift.
On 21st February 2011, Lakshya Foundation arranged for all seven tribal beneficiaries and their family members to travel with us to Saki Naka, Mumbai. Our team—Shirish Patil, Vishal Bhalekar, Anil Jadhav, Chandrakant Kadav, and others—accompanied them.
That day, as the wheelchairs were handed over, the atmosphere was electric. Tears flowed freely—tears that carried years of pain and relief at once. And then came the moment we will never forget: Dhondu’s son gripped the hand pedals, pushed forward, and for the first time in his life, he moved on his own. His father stood nearby, hands trembling, eyes wet, watching his boy take his first “steps” of independence—not on feet, but on wheels.
When we visited the village months later, we saw him again—this time pedalling proudly down the dusty lane, chasing life at his own pace. Neighbors cheered, children ran beside him, and Dhondu, the farm caretaker, finally allowed himself a smile of deep contentment.
For him, this was more than a wheelchair.
For him, this was proof that his son could dream again.
This story isn’t just about seven wheelchairs. It is about seven lives rediscovering motion, seven families rediscovering hope, and a community realizing that dignity can be restored with a single act of compassion.
