Wheelers on Wings: Five wheelchair basketball teams take flight in Mumbai

Wing-chair might be a better descriptor for what learning to race around in a wheel-chair did to Anu Chohan aka Geeta’s confidence: it helped her fly from the literal corner of her home where she was expected to sit quietly all day, into a world of superhero champions in sport.
Earlier this month, five wheelchair basketball (Wheeler) teams, invited Project Mumbai, played at the sport’s spiritual centre in Mumbai – the Mastan Nagpada grounds, that hidden gem of the city where everyone in the neighbourhood is a connoisseur of the game having watched Abbas Muntasir fly as playmaker. And where the rookie able-bodied player, Mushtaq, marvelled at how Wheelers played at a frenetic pace and shot down baskets after getting off from specially-designed vehicle rampways that reminded him of being “3D Terminator maafik [like].”
Five wheelchair basketball (Wheeler) teams played at the Mastan Nagpada grounds
For those like Geeta, the echoing applause of Nagpada would mean a world of appreciation, a far cry from their initial struggles of acceptance.
Geeta Chohan was struck polio at age 5.
Beating polio and patriarchy
After she was struck polio at age 5, Geeta’s family – a father who stayed furious at her and older brothers who preferred she sat in a corner and didn’t come in their way – had all but hidden her from view. They had noticed her condition only after she didn’t walk for close to four months, and chose to ignore her presence altogether thereafter. “In our caste in UP, girls don’t really study or go out and work. But I reached Class 10 somehow. Brothers would say, ‘you are getting food to eat twice a day, then why do you need to step out?’ They feared they’ll be laughed at because of me. But I wanted to prove hum useless cheezein nahi hai [we are not useless things]. The moment I saw someone play basketball on a wheelchair, I knew I wanted to do this,” Geeta recalls.
Geeta Chohan wanted to join the army as a child.
For someone who wanted to join the army as a child, it had been tough when her family pinned her to one corner, and when neighborhood children refused to even let her sit on the same bench. “People are so ignorant, they think disability spreads,” she says with a caustic laugh about a desolate childhood. “But I was very sad when I was told ‘disability waalon ka koi kaam nahi hai fauj mein [those with disability have no business being in the army].’” It took her a few competitions after she started playing to realise how masterfully Pune’s Army Paraplegic team played her favoured sport. “Maybe getting a medal for our country will be the next best thing for us,” she says.
Watching a few para-athletes wheel around in a small space close to her rehab centre at Haji Ali, Geeta Chohan was smitten the sport.
Watching a few para-athletes wheel around in a small space close to her rehab centre at Haji Ali, she was smitten the sport. An acquaintance at Mazgaon Docks fashioned her a customised wheelchair with a footrest. Now, a leading Indian car-maker’s UK-based design head is working on a mobile, accessible, portable-washroom vehicle for the Wheelers, while a leading bank is chipping in with prosthetics and high-end basketball wheelchairs. Meanwhile, the winning Pune team collected a lakh in prize money – the highest for para-sport in India.
But for Geeta, some scars remain. “Papa naaraaz rehke guzar gaye [died after remaining angry] when I was 33. I had actually won a medal in a small meet that day. But he never saw it. Now I look for respect from people as well as winning medals.”

Able-bodied hoopsters can jump. Wheelers have to shoot the same height sitting. “Upper body needs 200 percent stamina, power. We have to dribble, push the chair and not clash. Cut maarke nikalna hota hai [You have to dodge and move past] without getting blocked,” she chuckles. In her spare hours, she trains to move zigzag on the court. “Sometimes I just take off from Borivali right upto Malad. Darne jaungi toh marr jaungi [If I get scared, I’ll die]. I’ve fallen many times on court defending. Even seen stars in front of eyes [fainted]. But got up on my own and resumed playing,” Geeta says.
An accident left Surendra Kasare bound to a wheelchair.
Surendra Kasare, a BMC worker, recalls his accident on a slippery road when his bike skidded and a bus left him crushed, and bound to a wheelchair. Basketball at the Sion hospital centre gave him hope, as did his mother’s frantic efforts to keep him alive. “We lived in the slums. I used to fix potholes and unclog drains for the BMC before the accident, which left me paralysed in the lower body. You know, many youth victims of accidents contemplate suicide. Just the bedsores early on can push you to the edge. But I told myself I have one life only. My mother who works as a househelp helped me stay alive. I had to do something with this chance.”

At 24, he plunged into wheelchair basketball, but mere inspiration is just the start. “I lost sensation in my lower limbs. In such scenarios, you have to be careful with injuries because you might not feel the pain, but wounds can get nasty,” Kasure says.

 
Earthquake to consultancy to sport
Dinkle Shah works with a renowned consultancy, and then rushes to train for her Wheelers training, where she plays defense. “Keeping opponents to low scores is like a top-of-the-world feeling,” Dinkle says, though she won’t mind the occasional unguarded shy at the basket.
Dinkle Shah works with a renowned consultancy, and then rushes to train for her Wheelers training, where she plays defense.
At age 5 in the Bhuj earthquake of 2001, Dinkle was found amidst debris her family, severely bleeding from her head. The spine impact went unnoticed and she was restricted to a wheelchair. “We had gone for a family function to Bhuj from Bombay then. There were tragic scenes all-round. I had passed out from injury and didn’t get treatment for nine hours. Lost memory, and was in ICU for weeks,” Dinkle recalls.
It was post-recovery that she found life toughest. “Life turned upside down for me and my family. I struggled to study, as 10-11 schools rejected me just because I would be added responsibility. But mostly, wherever I went all eyes used to be on me,” she recalls. Not very kind eyes. “It was traumatic.”
 
the time she pursued MBA, colleges had gotten more sensitive, and her principal even got a rampway built watching her struggle. But it was in sport that she found normalcy. “Consultancy can be 15 hours of work. And sport needs me to train and sleep eight hours at least. Worst work-life balance. But I chose this and I’m motivated enough. I love the team spirit of wheelchair basketball,” Dinkle says, as she works on her arm strength.
Shishir Joshi, co-founder and chief executive of Project Mumbai, says children as young as 8 are now beginning to train for wheelchair basketball, and is now looking to appoint full-time physios and counsellors for the Wheelers, with the ultimate target being representing India at the Paralympics. “ raising awareness, we want at least 1000 wheelchair basketball players in India. The atmosphere at Nagpada was electric, and they loved watching the Wheelers play. I’m sure support in all forms, with tech and other resources, will pour in,” he stresses. For anyone that knows Nagpada basketball, those are the toughest spectators to please. And on a March weekend, they watched wing-chairs take flight.