On a bright, sunny afternoon in Chennai, I stood outside a studio’s green room, nervously going over my notes. Just then, someone walked out with unmistakable confidence and presence—it was Dr. Malvika Iyer, a person with disability and an unstoppable force of inspiration.

Once a hyperactive child who loved crafting and trained in Kathak, Malvika’s life took a tragic turn at the age of 13. A devastating accident at home left her without hands and caused severe injuries to her legs. After multiple surgeries and two years of being bedridden, few could have imagined the powerful future that awaited her.

It must have been an incredibly tough road to recovery, yet she never asked the painful question, “Why me?” Instead, she embarked on a remarkable journey of transformation—pouring her heart into education and eventually rising as a global motivational speaker.

Her path to purpose has been nothing short of extraordinary: speaking at the United Nations, addressing international platforms, and receiving India’s highest civilian honour for women’s empowerment. And even after all that, she’s far from done.

In a candid conversation, Malvika sat down with us to share deep, personal insights into her life, strength, and the mission that continues to drive her forward.

You wear many hats — activist, speaker, trainer, model, advisor. Which role feels the most personal to you, and why?”
I carry many identities, but the one closest to my heart is that of a motivational speaker. I’ve been speaking for over 12–13 years now. It all began in our Chennai, where I gave my first talk at a TEDx event. I still remember receiving a standing ovation on that very stage. I had gone there to share a traumatic experience from my childhood, and that moment changed everything. It pushed me onto the path of becoming a motivational speaker, and since then, it’s remained my most cherished identity.
My second favourite role is being a disability rights activist. When I was 13, I didn’t have women role models to look up to—especially no one I knew who had lost both their hands. That realisation stayed with me. I felt a deep responsibility to become the inspiration I once needed, to be a source of strength and hope for young girls and women navigating life with similar disabilities.

“Your work spans continents and causes. When you’re invited to speak at global forums, what message do you feel the world most needs to hear right now?”
One message. One thing everyone should know is that we cannot control our lives, but we can control our attitude towards life. We are always trying to control everything around us, and especially now, with the way the world is, you know, anything can happen at any time. But if there is something we can control, it’s our attitude and how we react to our challenges.

If something happens, if there is a challenge or an adversity, how do you react to it? Do you like just fall apart, or do you want to face it and, you know, be bold and solve it? I think that is something I would want to say.

“Inclusivity is a word we hear often, but what does ‘real inclusion’ look like in the everyday Indian context — say, in a classroom, or a workplace?”
There’s a lot of conversation around accessibility, universal design, and the social model of disability—and that’s important. But what we must understand is that disability is a vast spectrum. Each disability is different.

Take, for instance, someone who uses a wheelchair—they need a ramp. But for someone like me, I don’t need a ramp. I need a different kind of accommodation. That’s why the first step is recognizing the unique challenges each person faces and then addressing them accordingly. Every disability is different, and so are the needs that come with it.

Another point I strongly advocate for is the use of person-first language. There’s a world of difference between saying “Malvika, a disabled woman” and “Malvika, a person with a disability.” When you put the person first, it’s far more respectful and dignified. It reminds people that we are not defined by our disabilities—we are individuals first.

“You’ve inspired so many to rethink their lives. But what’s a moment or message from someone else that deeply moved or changed you?”
When I was bedridden for two years, my family stood by me every single day. My mother is my role model—she’s the very definition of positive thinking. I still remember her telling the doctors, “It doesn’t matter if my daughter doesn’t have hands or legs, I just want her alive. I will take care of her no matter what.” I grew up hearing things like that. That kind of mindset shaped who I am.

My father supported me in every way he could—especially financially. But this phase wasn’t easy on any of us. Our family was split across different places: my dad had to work in Rajasthan, my mom stayed with me at the hospital, and my sister was in high school. But we all knew our roles and moved forward together—as one unit, as a family.

The reason I’m sitting here talking to you today is that my family never saw me as “different.” They raised me with confidence, not pity. And honestly? Even today, I’ve never cried over losing my hands. What worried me more was my makeup and hair! People often ask, “Did you ever wonder—why me?” But the truth is, not even once. That question never crossed my mind.

You’ve pursued education with such determination. What did returning to academics mean to you, especially after facing such a life-altering event?”
After I decided to write my 10th board exams, I had just three months to prepare— I dictated every single subject, focused all my energy on studying. When the results came, I scored 97%. I was first! Jokingly, I never scored that much when I had my hands!

The media embraced my story; it was all over the front pages. And then something truly unforgettable happened—Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, who was the President of India at the time, read about me and invited my family and me to Rashtrapati Bhavan. It was a divine moment.

Looking at my marks and the unwavering support from my family, I knew then, I couldn’t look back anymore. Education had to be my life. That would be my meaning and purpose.

And so began my educational journey. I joined school again for 11th and 12th, went on to do a Bachelor’s in Economics (Hons), then a Master’s in Social Work, followed by an MPhil, and PhD in Social Work. Ten years of continuous studies—and in 2017, I officially became Dr. Malvika Iyer.

Can you take us through the moment when you received the ‘Nari Shakti Puraskar’ award from our president?
Before the President had arrived at the Rashtrapati Bhavan, they played the national anthem. The goosebumps. That’s the ultimate patriotic feeling, to be listening to that inside the building, and to be invited with my parents.

They recognised my work towards women’s empowerment because it was given by the Ministry of Women and Child Development, and as a woman with disability, I have been doubly discriminated against because I am a woman and then I am a woman with a disability.

So for me, that award meant a lot because they are celebrating me, they are celebrating women like me. It’s not an easy journey. Even today, the hospital is something I go to more than a restaurant. I would say that I was on cloud nine; the recognition that I received for my work pushed me. This is a great gift, but I need to keep going.