India isn’t built for the Disabled — DY Chandrachud

When the 50th Chief Justice of India Dr DY Chandrachud recently spoke about his struggle to find an accessible home for his daughters with disabilities, it wasn’t just a personal anecdote, it was a national wake-up call.

Speaking at a recent event on disability rights, Chandrachud said, “We have two beautiful daughters who are children with special needs. But every house we go to is just not equipped for a family with disabled members.”

Chandrachud, who must vacate his official residence by April 30, shared that his family has been actively searching for a home to rent. But the options, even in India’s capital, are startlingly inaccessible.

“We saw a lovely house today,” he said. “But the rooms were at different levels, separated by a step. And the landlord said, ‘I’ll put a wooden ramp,’ not realising that accessibility isn’t just about connecting Level 0 to Level 1. It’s much more.”

When the system fails the system

The irony is hard to miss.

Here is one of the most powerful men in India’s judiciary, someone who has presided over landmark rulings on disability rights, now confronting the very barriers he has spent years trying to dismantle.

If Chandrachud and his family are facing these obstacles, what about the millions of Indians with disabilities who lack the same influence, resources, or legal knowledge?

A country still not built for disabled people

India passed the Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act (RPWD) in 2016. The law mandates accessibility in buildings, transport, communication, and digital services.

But implementation has lagged.

Budget allocations remain inadequate, and public and private infrastructures alike continue to ignore basic design standards.

Where they exist, accessible infrastructure is patchy. Ramps, if present, are often too steep. Elevators are missing or non-functional. Tactile paving is placed in arbitrary directions. Toilets are not usable for wheelchair users. And in most Indian homes, steps at the entrance or inside rooms make independent living nearly impossible.

The issue is not a lack of laws but a lack of will, societal understanding, and inclusive design.

From the courtroom to the community

To be clear, Chandrachud is no stranger to the disability rights movement. As Chief Justice, he delivered the 2017 judgment in the Rajiv Rathod case, directing states to draft comprehensive accessibility plans.

He also established the Supreme Court Accessibility Committee in 2022, and released the Supreme Court’s Disability Handbook in 2023, guiding judges on disability-inclusive jurisprudence.

At the event, he emphasised that law alone is not enough. “Courts can only go so far,” he said.

“There must be incentives — like tax benefits — for accessible design. And there should be monetary sanctions, not criminal ones, for non-compliance.”

He also addressed the need for empathy-led judiciary reforms, supporting the idea of benches that understand disability rights, even if not exclusively dedicated to them.

Who designs for whom?

India’s cities — its homes, schools, airports, parks, courts, and buses — are largely designed for the non-disabled. For the 26.8 million disabled people in India (as per Census 2011, though estimates are likely much higher), the world outside is often a series of closed doors.

And while accessibility is often painted as a “special need,” it is, in fact, a universal need.

An elderly person recovering from surgery, a parent pushing a stroller, a delivery worker carrying heavy loads... everyone benefits from barrier-free design.

A moment of reckoning

That it took a former Chief Justice’s personal housing struggle to reignite this conversation says something about the invisibilisation of disabled voices in public discourse.

The path forward

Chandrachud concluded with a note of quiet urgency:

“Disability law cuts across the whole of society. It’s not like insolvency law, which requires niche expertise. What it requires is understanding and design that respects dignity.”

Until then, the former Chief Justice — and millions of disabled Indians — will keep encountering steps where there should have been bridges.