The Unspoken Bond: How a Console, a Wheelchair, and a Dream Changed Lives
Some moments in life do not simply pass — they return, quietly, carrying memories, meaning, and unfinished emotions.
Recently, as I stepped into the family gathering of the All Kerala Wheelchair Rights Federation at IPM Kozhikode, I felt an invisible current pull me back fifteen years. The sight of families gathered on the beach — laughter mingling with resilience, challenges softened by companionship — awakened memories of a journey that began in 2011. It was not merely a project or an initiative; it was an experiment in humanity, dignity, and social engineering that transformed lives — including my own.
The Genesis of Angels
In 2011, alongside visionary individuals like Dr. PB Salim IAS, Dr. Meharoof, and several passionate collaborators, we established Angels — the Active Network of Emergency Life Savers.
At its core, Angels was designed to solve a critical logistical problem: how to save lives by creating a unified emergency response network. Our aim was ambitious — to connect nearly 600 ambulances across five districts using GPS/GPRS technology, standardize emergency response systems, and introduce structured protocols that could improve survival outcomes.
We pioneered several innovations, including making spine boards mandatory in ambulances — a step that today feels obvious but at the time required advocacy, persuasion, and persistence.
The project grew rapidly. It gained recognition nationally and internationally for its effectiveness in disaster response and emergency coordination. Lives were saved. Systems improved. Standards evolved.
But the most meaningful innovation that emerged from Angels was not technological.
It was deeply human.
The Console of Empowerment
When the time came to establish the central ambulance command console at IPM Kozhikode, we faced an unexpected question:
Who should sit behind the emergency line — the toll-free number 102 — the first human voice that a distressed caller would hear?
We decided to challenge conventional thinking.
Instead of hiring traditional call operators, we chose to employ paraplegic wheelchair users — individuals who had themselves experienced trauma, survival, and rehabilitation.
It was a bold decision, rooted in a simple belief: ability is not defined by physical mobility but by purpose and perspective.
Thus began one of the most meaningful chapters of Angels.
Mr. Mohammadali and Mr. Subhash (Differently abled)became our first console operators along with Mr .Sirajudheen and Mr Asokan both were no more with us today .
They did not merely answer calls.
They felt them.
Every emergency call carried a resonance that others could not fully understand. They had lived through trauma. They knew the fear of waiting for help, the vulnerability of depending on systems, and the urgency of every second.
Their lived experience transformed empathy into action.
Calls were handled with an intensity and sincerity that was deeply moving. They were not just dispatchers coordinating logistics; they were survivors ensuring that someone else would not feel alone in their moment of crisis.
From “Useless” to Indispensable
Years later, as I stood among the members of the Wheelchair Rights Federation, I watched Mr. Mohammadali preside over the function.
When he spoke, the atmosphere shifted.
With emotion in his voice, he described his time at the console as the “most beautiful days of our life.”
Before Angels, he said, many people had seen them as “useless.”
The word hung heavy in the air — a reminder of how society often defines people by limitations rather than by potential.
Angels had not simply offered employment.
It had restored dignity.
It had given purpose.
It had allowed individuals once marginalized to become central figures in a life-saving network.
I remembered how Mohammadali, despite being a full-time wheelchair user, travelled tirelessly across districts with us to promote the Angels concept. His presence challenged perceptions more effectively than any presentation or policy could.
The project revealed a profound truth:
The differently abled are not a burden on society — they are an untapped reservoir of strength, resilience, and capability.
They are, truly, gems waiting to be recognized.
The Unspoken Bond
Spending that day with them was deeply emotional.
There are bonds formed not through words but through shared struggle, mutual respect, and a collective dream to create something larger than ourselves.
Fifteen years later, the technology may have evolved, systems may have changed, and projects may have ended or transformed — but the human connections remain.
Those moments reminded me that true innovation lies not merely in machines, protocols, or infrastructure.
It lies in recognizing human potential where others fail to see it.
A Renewed Commitment
As I left the gathering, I felt a renewed sense of responsibility.
The journey with Angels taught me that meaningful change happens when we focus on capability rather than limitation, inclusion rather than charity, empowerment rather than sympathy.
There are still countless opportunities waiting to be created — roles that can harness resilience, lived experience, and courage.
The year ahead must include new initiatives that open doors for these extraordinary individuals, not as beneficiaries but as partners and leaders.
Because sometimes, the most powerful emergency response system is not built on technology alone.
It is built on trust.
On dignity.
On the unspoken bond between those who have suffered and those who choose to serve.
