Sweta Mantrii, a 36-year-old comedian from Pune, was born with spina bifida, a condition where the spinal cord doesn’t develop properly. Despite mobility challenges, Sweta uses humour to advocate for accessible public spaces for people with disabilities.

Sweta’s journey into stand-up comedy began in 2016 while recovering from a fracture. “I’m witty too. Why not merge that with comedy about disability?” she thought, binge-watching comedians like Aditi Mittal and Hannah Gadsby.

Performing stand-up was tough at first. Audiences often pulled back when they saw her on stage. “People weren’t used to the idea of disabled women doing comedy. It was a real downer,” she recalls.

Early on, Sweta addressed ableism head-on: “If you feel awkward looking at my crutches, you can ignore them — like your crush ignores you.” Dark humour became her way to start difficult conversations.

Accessibility remains Sweta’s biggest challenge as a performer. “Is the venue accessible? Is there an accessible restroom? How many steps to the stage?” she wonders before every show.

She recalls struggling on a slippery stage setup once. When the audience saw her struggle, tension filled the room. “Jokes that should’ve landed fell flat because they weren’t used to someone like me performing,” she shares.

Sweta lightens these moments with quick wit. If steep steps make her late, she quips, “Oh, thanks for clapping for two hundred years, guys!” Her humour smooths out awkward situations.

For Sweta, choosing stand-up comedy is a bold act. “The term ‘stand-up’ itself feels ableist. Performing live challenges perceptions of what disabled people can do,” she explains.

Beyond comedy, Sweta works to make public spaces inclusive. Sweta along with her friend Vishal Sawvaant, a wheelchair user, started an initiative, ‘Give Some Space’, and installed ramps on key Pune streets, improving access to bookstores, cafes, and schools.

In 2017, she co-created the ‘Restroom Project’, a map of Pune restaurants shaped like toilet seats, highlighting whether their restrooms were disability-friendly. It creatively sparked awareness about accessibility gaps.

Sweta’s experiences fuel her advocacy. “Disability isn’t the problem; accessibility, or the lack of it, is,” she says. Her upbringing taught her to fight for change and use her voice boldly.

Her comedy also educates. “People still think disabled individuals should stay quiet. Choosing not to speak about our struggles has never been an option for me,” Sweta asserts.