Maharashtra Homes Care for 700 Adults with Disabilities

When Kumari arrived at a shelter home for children with disabilities decades ago, she could barely speak. Today at 65, she still says only one word: "Ai," meaning mother.

She's one of nearly 700 adults living across Maharashtra's 12 government-aided homes designed for children with intellectual disabilities. At the Shirur facility, 49 of 50 residents are women aged 35 to 75. At the Mankhurd home in Mumbai, 95% of the 280 residents are adults, with some reaching 75 years old.

The pattern is simple and heartbreaking. Children arrive between ages 6 and 18, abandoned or orphaned. For typical foster children, institutional care ends at adulthood. But for those with intellectual disabilities, there's often nowhere else to go.

"Chronologically they age, but mentally they remain the same, sometimes 10 years old," staff explain. So the Child Welfare Committee issues fresh orders each year, keeping residents on "until their last day."

At Mankhurd, days follow a comforting rhythm. Residents learn vocational skills like making paper bags and festival decorations. They play sports and win medals. One woman recently returned from a tournament in Brazil. Eggs appear on Fridays, chicken on Sundays.

Sister Soumya oversees the Shirur home, where women like 48-year-old Kanta dust for hours because she loves cleanliness. Manju, 50, cares for the home's pets. Savita tends the gardens with gentle expertise.

Sunny's Take

Principal Shalini Duri sees 50-year-old twins sharing sweets and Dolma, 35, laughing on the seesaw. Her mother left four years ago "for a few days" and blocked the home's number.

"Let's not forget," Duri says, "even at 70, they are all still children."

The facilities are filled beyond capacity. At Shirur, 50 women occupy a space built for fewer. Mankhurd houses 280 on a campus designed for 350. Sometimes children needing shelter must be turned away.

Neither Soumya nor Duri lets the overcrowding unsettle their mission. Both homes survived past scandals, emerging with reformed management and tighter oversight. The Shirur sisters arrived in 1997 for a one-year trial and stayed for decades.

Khalid, past 65, tilts his head and closes his eyes doing his best Rajesh Khanna impression. "I am the original one, he was my duplicate," he announces before his smile deepens the wrinkles around his eyes.

Salman, 50, bustles around in his neatly ironed outfit, proud to be "the most efficient office boy." When asked, Sonam, 40, breaks into a melodious rendition of a patriotic song.

Files get reassessed every six months. Psychologists manage depression and aggression common when few families visit. Special educators teach skills and celebrate small victories.

The arithmetic of age was never really the point, staff say, and sometimes sentiments must override systems.