Brazen Neglect: Airlines and the DGCA Betray Disabled Travellers

Wheelchair user alleges discrimination by Air India Express staff at Mumbai airport 

At Mumbai’s Chhatrapati Shivaji Airport, veteran sports administrator Arvind Prabhoo faced a humiliating ordeal. After an Air India Express flight from Kochi, he discovered that the footrest of his power wheelchair – an essential component – had disappeared. Prabhu, who had relied on airline assistance up to the aircraft door, was left stranded for two hours at the gate with no proper help. This episode is not an isolated lapse but emblematic of a broader systemic failure: disabled flyers routinely see their mobility aids treated as expendable cargo. Airlines and regulators must be called to account for this callous indifference.

Disabled travellers know all too well that a wheelchair is not mere luggage. It is literally part of the person. In the United States, Engracia Figueroa spoke of her custom $30,000 chair as an “extension of [her] body” – one that United Airlines had “completely contorted” in its cargo hold. Figueroa was left effectively “re-disabled” by the damage, forced into a sub-standard loaner chair that barely let her move. Her words ring true for many: “When they see a mobility device, they should respect it, as if it is a person”. The fact that airlines often ignore this ethic – breaking frames, mangling footrests or batteries – underscores a deep disrespect for disabled passengers.

The statistics speak for themselves. In a short span, U.S. carriers reported mishandling 15,749 mobility devices (wheelchairs and scooters) in just 2½ years – roughly 29 a day. These incidents range from minor nicks to total write-offs. No wonder disability advocates warn that “80% of the wheelchair community isn’t flying” at all, frightened by the prospect of disaster. This is a global shame, and India is no exception. Countless personal accounts and advocacy posts confirm that travellers on domestic and international carriers repeatedly find their chairs damaged, delayed or lost. Even when airlines like Indigo grudgingly pay for repairs, a “fix” is often superficial: rebuilt chairs lose calibration, reliability and features, so the passenger’s independence is still compromised (an experience I know all too well). Yet these lived realities rarely make headlines.

By law and international standards, airlines must treat mobility aids with utmost care. The DGCA’s own 2025 Civil Aviation Requirement (CAR) now promises non-discriminatory, dignified travel for disabled flyers. It mandates free carriage of personal wheelchairs (including battery-powered ones) according to IATA/ICAO norms, obliges training of staff in disability awareness, and requires airports to provide ramps, parking and accessible routes. In principle, there are nodal officers to handle complaints and visible grievance channels for disabled passengers. These regulations, aligned with India’s Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act (2016), should make our skies barrier-free.

In practice, however, the gap between rule and reality is vast. Despite DGCA’s declarations, many airlines and airports flout even basic standards. Staff are often untrained and even hostile. Time and again, wheelchair users describe being treated as an inconvenience rather than human beings. No wonder the CCPD recently chastised Air India for just this sort of apathy: an 80%-disabled traveller on a domestic flight was unceremoniously de-boarded, and her powered wheelchair returned badly damaged. The tribunal fined Air India a mere ₹50,000 but recommended ₹5,00,000 in compensation. The regulator’s own review found that Air India had violated its rules by refusing carriage without any medical exam or proper explanation. The court invoked the Supreme Court’s Jeeja Ghosh precedent, noting that mere technical compliance cannot “justify conduct which humiliates, degrades or disproportionately burdens a passenger with disability”.

The above judgments and fines are welcome, but they are reactive. The DGCA often seems to act only after a scandal or tragedy. Last year an 80-year-old disabled man collapsed and died at Mumbai airport after Air India failed to supply the promised wheelchair. Only then did DGCA slap a ₹30 lakh fine and warn airlines to always have enough wheelchairs on hand. In contrast, every day disabled flyers suffer indignities that rarely see official sanction. As Arvind Prabhu’s case shows, his missing footrest was hardly headline news, so no punitive action has been reported. Meanwhile, India’s official promises (“people with disability should fly with dignity” etc.) mean little if implementation is weak.

Defenders of the aviation industry point to challenges: ramping up wheelchair services can strain staff and schedules, and there have been stories of able-bodied passengers abusing priority assistance (a 2024 UK report noted some misuse). But none of this excuses treating wheelchairs callously. Even the LinkedIn commentary of an airport manager reminds us that accessibility is about dignity, not mere operational checkboxes. A ramp that fails, or a chair that arrives shattered, deprives a person of basic autonomy. Every such incident worsens distrust: as one U.S. advocate warned, the airline industry’s shoddy record is driving away wheelchair users in droves.

There are some measures that should be celebrated. The updated DGCA CAR (effective October 2025) is a step forward on paper. It even requires airlines to specify an appellate authority and publish complaint-tracking online. In theory, a disabled flyer can now lodge a grievance and expect action. The regulator has also clarified that wheelchair-handling charges are illegal and that airlines must provide ambulifts or ramps.

Nevertheless, these positive policy strides are hollow if enforcement remains lax. As things stand, it is airlines – not disabled passengers – who suffer few consequences for bungling mobility aids. It often feels as if the carriage of the disabled is still an afterthought for DGCA inspectors and airline managers alike. If a fragile community (less than 10% of India’s population) does not fly, they lose choice and companies lose customers; but the immediate penalty falls on the disabled individual who is humiliated or marooned. This must change.

In every way, a wheelchair should be treated as part of a passenger’s person and dignity. The DGCA’s own motto calls for safe and accessible travel; its 2025 rules codify that ideal. Now, Indian regulators and airlines must back up words with deeds. Wheelchairs must be given tender care, not tossed onto tarmacs or left broken. Staff at every counter and cockpit must understand that disabled travellers are owed respect and equal opportunity – not excuses. The courts have already reminded us that “reasonable accommodation” is mandatory, not optional. It is high time the DGCA not only writes reforms but enforces them rigorously. Until then, disabled Indians will continue to endure indignities that non-disabled passengers cannot even imagine. Justice delayed is justice denied – and for Arvind Prabhoo, for my own battered chair, and for countless others, delay is already far too great.