In remote Sukma, south Chhattisgarh, till recently associated with geopolitical strife rather than with stories of modern triumph, a silent shift was brewing. It does not carry weapons; instead, it is armed with textbooks, screen-reading software, and an unbreakable human spirit.
At the centre of this is 22-year-old Roshni Gupta, a girl born into absolute physical darkness. She is rewriting the script of what is possible for disabled women in rural India. Born to Upendra Gupta, a street vendor who struggles daily to make ends meet, Roshni’s life began at the absolute intersection of poverty and disability.
Born totally blind in south Bastar’s Sukma district—where her 20-year-old sister also faces partial blindness—Roshni’s future seemed predetermined by geography and circumstances. Her parents sought medical miracles as far as Hyderabad, but the diagnosis was permanent. “In a deeply traditional society, my birth was not celebrated. Instead, it was mourned,” she elucidated.
For Roshni, the loss of sight was only half the battle. The harsher sting came from the social environment around her. Growing up, she was subjected to cruel, soul-crushing taunts from a society that viewed her as a double liability: first for being a girl, and second for being blind. “People would openly mock my existence,” she recalls bitterly. “They would say to my face, ‘She is a burden, she is a girl, why was she even born? Why didn’t she just die?’” Instead of breaking her, these venomous barbs acted as fuel. Roshni refused to let others’ ignorance dictate her worth. She found her solace, her shield, and her weapon in education.
Roshni has multiple artistic talents. She has a mellifluous voice, singing deeply moving hymns and songs. She has the ability to mimic the calls of various animals and birds, a skill born out of listening to the natural world with heightened sensitivity. She wished to become a professional singer, but given the circumstances, she shifted her focus back to academia.
Roshni’s educational journey was fraught with anxiety. She attended a regular school from grades one to five, constantly terrified of how she would cope with higher education as her peers advanced with visual materials. A turning point came when Aakar, an organisation working for disabled children in Sukma, took her under its wing until the eighth grade. She later cleared her 10th-grade exams through open schooling from Bastar Higher Secondary School. Despite her parents’ anxieties about her safety and survival in a chaotic metropolis, she insisted on moving to Delhi. She knew staying back would stagnate her, as Chhattisgarh lacked the infrastructure required for visually impaired students to achieve true independence.
“When I came to Delhi, it was really difficult for me, and I had to struggle a lot,” Roshni recalls. “There were issues of staying and food initially.” Despite the harsh initiation, she thrived. She is currently in her final year of a BA degree at Delhi University’s School of Open Learning (SOL). Well versed in Hindi and English, she navigates the transit corridors between Delhi, Mumbai, and Raipur entirely on her own.
Simultaneously, she is studying a course in Mumbai for Diploma in Education (D.Ed) for the visually impaired. From catching commuter trains to managing her own bank accounts and traveling to her institute, she operates with absolute autonomy.
She manages her own YouTube and Telegram channels, creating specialised content to help other visually impaired students navigate their studies.