Sheetal Devi: The Inspiring Journey of India’s Armless Archer From Kashmir to Sporting History

Sheetal: The Pure One

It was a cold, cold day in January in Kashmir. The village was Loidhar in Jammu and Kashmir. There was a bustle in the air today, a slight undercurrent of excitement. A baby was expected. The couple came from a humble background. The mother was a homemaker, a simple practical woman. The father, just a daily worker earning a meagre sum, earned just enough to feed his family. He was respected in the village as a helpful, spiritual person always lending a helping hand to others. He would counsel others in trouble with a calm “Upar wale pe bharosa rakho.” This faith would be tested on that day.

As the loud cry of a new baby split the cold evening, the group of men waiting outside smiled at each other. Someone went and put his hand on the father’s arm. With a smile he said, “Mubarak ho.” Just then an ashen-faced woman came through the door. “Bhai sahib,” she said, “par… par….”

The father, with his group of well-wishers, rushed to see the baby, and then many turned away in horror. The child had no arms. Later they would find the baby suffered from a rare condition called phocomelia or seal limb, where the arms become flippers in the womb a disease once associated with the dreadful term “thalidomide baby,” where the drug thalidomide had caused a spate of such births.

The child, though, cried loudly through the night, announcing she was happy to be born and in Kashmir and in this humble family. She would be named Sheetal Devi the pure one. The devis of Hindu mythology were many-handed, but Sheetal had no arms.

It was 2007, and Sheetal was lying next to her mother. She was happy. She was one day old.

Learning to Live Without Arms

A couple of years later, Sheetal had grown but was finding it difficult to eat, walk, roll, or stand. Her mother watched her; her heart would break as the young Sheetal was unable to do so much that other children found easy to do.

The mother did not rush to help as the child struggled. She knew the world outside would hold untold struggles and pain for her little disabled child. But the spirit of the child was unwavering, and as the mother waited and watched, the child began to cope. Her legs adapted to a double duty, and the child learned to eat using her legs, hold small items in her toes, even apply a bindi to her forehead bending over.

It was 2009 and Sheetal was training her legs to do what others would do with their hands. She was 2 years old.

And a few years passed. Sheetal started venturing outside the house, and then she started hearing the whispers which followed her bechari, bhoj, maa-baap bad-kismat hai. She started to feel she was inferior. She was hurt and her heart would weep. “Why me, God?” she asked but did not get an answer.

But all was not lost. Her family was her pillar. Her mother was loving and never treated her as though she was different. Her dadu loved his bright-spirited grandchild with the face of an angel. His warm embrace and his smile as he saw her would brighten her day.

Her father this calm, warm man whom the neighbours pitied for the handicap of a disabled child would never say a dark word to her, never show any signs of self-pity. He would just say, “Upar wale pe bharosa kar.” She began to believe in his words. She began to trust that maybe God made her for a reason.

Many years later, when fame and fortune surrounded her, when her praises would be on the lips of the great and mighty, Sheetal would say: “Many call my father now as Sheetal ke papa, but for me I will forever be Maan Singh ki beti.”

It was 2011 and she was beginning to heed her father’s words and trust that just maybe God had a destiny for her. Sheetal was 4.

The years in the small village passed quickly. Sheetal had turned eight. She had joined school and she was quick to write with her feet. Her quick intelligence and motivation to learn had impressed the teachers. She now had a new goal in life maybe, just maybe, she could become a teacher herself. In class she was popular. The earlier whispers and pitying looks had transformed into genuine friendships.

It was a girl gang that young Sheetal was now part of, and she traipsed the mountain slopes of her village with her young band of friends. But there was one gap she had always wanted to climb trees: the tall chinars clad in golden leaves shimmering like a graceful gown in the fresh Kashmir breeze, the lovely apple trees laden with red fruit, the tall deodar pines which stretched to the skies.

She longed with all the heart of a small skinny armless girl to pick an apple from the trees, to feel the breeze sitting on the branches of the tall chinar, to see into the mountains standing on the boughs of the stately deodar.

Then one day she decided enough was enough. She went up to her favourite chinar, gripped the bark with her powerful and flexible legs, pushed herself up forcing her body close to the branches, another deep breath, moved her legs up, another agonizing foot up, another 3 inches up. Slowly but steadily she reached the first bough five feet up. Now she was able to look down, feel the breeze, and see further.

It was 2015 and Sheetal, sitting on the tree, was looking down on her amazed friends in glee, her heart alight. Sheetal had learned to dream and knew she could bring her dreams to life. Sheetal was eight.

Becoming Sheetal Devi

The years turned. One day the news came to the village that the Rashtriya Rifles had organized a para sports identification camp for children with disabilities in Kishtwar.

She went hesitantly as she had never played any sports in her village. It was very strange for young Sheetal at the camp. A tall sports coach approached her, and then she was given her first bow and asked to shoot. She held it with her feet and bent the bow and let the arrow fly.

It hit close to centre. The coach asked her, “Have you tried archery before?” She said no. He shook his head disbelievingly. “Your core strength seems so high, do you exercise regularly?” “No,” she said, “but I do climb trees daily,” said the wild-eyed girl from the mountains. “You climb trees without arms?” he said in amazement.

Kuldeep Vedwan, the national para-archery coach of India, was impressed with her. She was asked to report to the Vaishno Devi Sports Academy at Katra. Her parents had many inner doubts about letting their armless child go out away from their small home. But finally she was in Katra.

It was 2021 and Sheetal had now taken to a sport. She was ready to fly, and Kuldeep trusted in her, and he would be the wind beneath her wings. Sheetal was 14.

It had been 2 years at the camp and the years had been both difficult and amazing. Kuldeep and the coaches showed her how to master the bow with her legs only. She could do this, she felt. But yes, the days that followed were filled with pain. Her back, arched for hours, ached. Her toes bled pulling the strings of the bow again and again, but Sheetal never gave up.

She made the Indian team for the Asian Para Games. She was the youngest of the team, and she drew a lot of attention with her unique style as the only armless woman archer in the world. But many thought of her as just a curiosity. The games began: her incredible focus held, her well-toned body never faltered, and the relentless fire in her eyes never dimmed.

When the games ended and the dust settled, she had three medals on her neck: a gold in individual women, a gold in mixed doubles, and a silver in women’s pairs.

It was 2023. The world stood and took notice of her. This young, pretty, armless girl from Kishtwar with the bright smile became the darling of the sporting world. Sheetal was 16.

In 2024 she would be the youngest Indian to win a medal at the Paris Para Olympics, and in 2025, in an outrageous attempt, she beat the able-bodied archers to make the able-bodied Indian archery team for the Asia Cup the first para athlete to represent India in the normal category.

Sheetal was 18 and she knew she was limitless, for she is a devi woman power in all her glory: joyful, fearless, and powerful.