Chapter 1: Days of Illness;
Chapter 2: The Beginning;
Chapter 3: Before You Walk, You Fall;
Chapter 4: Diapers, Dating and Disappointment;
Chapter 5: The Ugliness of Existence, Part I;
Chapter 6: Falling, Crawling, Walking;
Chapter 7: The Subtle Art of Holding Your Pee;
Chapter 8: The Litany of Shame;
Chapter 9: Pain;
Chapter 10: The Wondrous Act of Keeping Afloat;
Chapter 11: Caring for Each Other;
Chapter 12: Rules of Attraction;
Chapter 13: The Queerness of My Disabled Body;
Chapter 14: Some Long-Lost Poems
Chapter 15: Loneliness Is a Song that Never Leaves My Room;
Chapter 16: House-Hunting;
Chapter 17: The Invisible Act of Being;
Chapter 18: A Nonchalant Conversation about Death;
Chapter 19: The Ugliness of Existence, Part II;
Chapter 20: The Timidness of Being;
Chapter 21: Dear Winter, I Hate You;
Chapter 22: Trigger Warning;
Chapter 23: Lockdown;
Chapter 24: Being Disabled Is Political;
Chapter 25: Seen and Unseen;
Chapter 26: Getting Back on Stage;
Chapter 27: Cages;
Chapter 28: Mix Tape;
Chapter 29: Lessons from Nearly Dying;
Chapter 30: Betrayal;
Chapter 31: Hope Is a Thing with Feathers;
Chapter 32: Hopscotch;’
Chapter 33: Gasping to Live Again;
Chapter 34: Delirium;
Chapter 35: 1 Hereby Certify;
Chapter 36: Expectations
Chapter 37: Adaptation;
Chapter 38: Fat Love;
Chapter 39: A Room of Our Own;
Chapter 40: Love Paranoia;
Chapter 41: Active Melancholy;
Acknowledgements;
Notes.

Subverting an ableist India’s expectations from a disabled person to be ‘inspirational’ and an ‘underdog who made it’ despite their illness, Abhishek Anicca writes about everyday stories of living with disability and chronic illness in this memoir-in-essays.

With piercing mindfulness and radical vulnerability, Annica writes sparse and compelling essays on the self, questions of care and dignity, dating and navigating desire as a queer-disabled man, self-hatred, moving about with a crutch, chronic pain and shame, the chilling lack of representation in the media and reflections on nearing death.

Conversational and informal, truthful and unflinching, Anicca’s wry and urgent essays in The Grammar of My Body compel the reader to become at once distant from and proximate to their inner experiences.