When news portals started flashing headlines that dead bodies of men and dogs are floating in the flooded Kolkata roads, I wondered how I as a 60-year-old disability activist should react?
As my city faced unprecedented rainfall, obviously my primary attention was focussed on the security of my family. Yes, we faced long power cuts, we were tensed because of not having enough drinking water, and parts of the ground floor of our building was flooded with dirty water. But these inconveniences were nothing compared to the ordeals faced by many of my fellow citizens.
Facing the climate disaster myself, I tried to recall the webinars and high-profile meetings in air-conditioned rooms that disability rights groups organize on disaster management. Those discussions seemed so far off from the reality posed by the flooding. In this horrific situation, the Chief Minister of West Bengal asked the people of Kolkata to stay home and not come out on the streets. Was this realistic advice for daily wage earners, people facing an urgency, or those trying to get to the safety of home? She also shared a Durga Puja song she had composed on her social media accounts on the day the capital city of the state was drowning (September 23, 2025). But when I looked for an advisory on the flooding in sign language, it was in vain. The government departments had not thought it was important.
Even the NGOs working on hearing disabilities were probably busy with events for the International Day of Sign Languages on September 23. I assume that they forgot to upload any video on the disaster on their social media handles.
A large number of people with disabilities live below the poverty line. Unfortunately, their concerns are hardly reflected in the meetings organised by the disability rights groups. The concept of work-from-home, which has become so popular in the disability sector, can obviously be availed of by only the fortunate few from upper socioeconomic backgrounds. Many of the people who died by electrocution in the flood waters were daily wage earners who had no option but to venture out to earn their living.
More than 24 hours have passed since the rain stopped. We still have no news where and in what condition are the homeless people of Kolkata. It would not be far off the mark to say that more than 50 percent of the homeless are disabled. I cannot show any government data to prove this, but I write this from my experience of working with the disabled closely.
Till the flood waters receded, the local trains that bring huge numbers of domestic workers, attendants, and caregivers to the city could not ply. Home delivery services also stopped. So, the elderly or disabled people who live alone may have gone without food or other necessities. The Internet services were also disrupted, and with long power cuts, the cell phones of many doctors and other professionals ran out of charge. The elderly and the disabled who must live on the ground floor saw their rooms flooding, while those who live on the upper floors, found the elevators not working.
I wonder how people with mobility issues would have managed, but the media outlets did not find it fit to cover these concerns. Instead, they showed visuals of Durga Puja pandals affected by the waters.
As a person living with psychosocial disabilities, I fail to understand why mental health concerns are never discussed when disaster strikes. How many people would have got panic attacks during the flooding? How did people with chronic anxiety and depression cope? And finally, if six hours of constant rain brought out the hollowness of a metro city, how do rural communities survive in similar situations? Too many questions and no one to turn to for answers.
Main photo credit: Pawan Dhall
