GOOD SPORT: Para-athletes, champions all

In a cruel world that emphasises limitations, the greatest service a para-athlete performs for society is to normalise physical disability — to bring it right under the public eye, and then perform sporting acts of such skill and courage that even ‘normal’ people can’t emulate.

Several years ago, when a para-athlete was awarded the Khel Ratna, the country’s highest award for sportspersons, hitherto won only by ‘normal’ athletes, a colleague couldn’t hide his contempt: “These ‘non-elite’ athletes getting the top sports award — the very idea!”

Having watched para-sports over the years, this person is now a fan, for the story of each para-athlete, medal-winner or not, is fascinating and inspirational, worthy of a book.

Let’s talk about, say, Sumit Antil, just one among the para-heroes.

Javelin in his right hand, a spring in his steps, Antil jogs rather than sprints to the white line. With a mighty heave, he sends the spear flying. There’s a hush. There’s a roar. Antil looks at the giant screen flashing the distance the spear has travelled — it’s over 70 metres. It’s a personal best. It’s good for gold. Antil turns around and slaps his right thigh — he’s very unlikely to ever slap his left thigh because it’s a prosthetic limb. It’s due to this artificial left limb that he jogs rather than sprints; it’s this artificial left limb that presents him the greatest difficulty in his dream of hitting the 80-metre mark.

“My left leg, which is my blocking leg, is an artificial limb. It’s difficult to balance on it. There are just two nails at the base of the prosthetic that get a grip on the ground. Balancing your entire body on just two nails is very difficult,” said Antil a day after winning gold at the Paris Paralympics. “After your hip has done its role while throwing, the blocking leg has to move into action. I was losing my balance a couple of times, which is why I couldn’t throw even better.”

“When I will be at my peak, just once in life, I want to touch the 80m mark. I want to know how it feels when the javelin crosses that distance,” said Antil, 26.

Antil, two Paralympics gold medals to his credit, wants to expand his horizons.

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage. The courage of the para-athlete reshapes perceptions, breaks down physical and emotional barriers, and redraws the limits of possibilities. Antil has had to be very courageous — there was no other option after a motorcycle accident led to the amputation of his left leg when he was just 17.

Sheetal Devi, born without arms, had to be very courageous. The archer, who hits bull’s-eye using her feet, won a Paralympics medal last week. “Before, I used to live in a small village. And then I started para archery, I saw that people with disabilities could also achieve something,” Sheetal, 17, wrote on social media. “There was a time when I felt incomplete and sought external validation. It took time to embrace my true self, but the moment I did, magic unfolded.”

Sport does create magic. But, as Anais Nin wrote, life indeed does shrink or expand in proportion to courage — and it’s not just about bravery, it’s more about stepping out of our comfort zone and confronting and defeating fears.

Vinesh’s courage

One brave person who’s stepped out of her comfort zone is Vinesh Phogat, the greatest female wrestler from India. Vinesh, having done nothing but wrestle for two decades, put her career on the line when she started a campaign to bring to justice Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh, then Wrestling Federation of India president and a powerful BJP MP. This required physical and mental courage of the highest order. Her dream of an Olympics medal — she had suffered a horrible injury in 2016, heartbreak in 2021 — seemed to be over. Yet, Vinesh came to winning gold at the Paris Olympics last month after shocking the world with her upset of Yui Susaki, the Japanese superstar, in the final 15 seconds of their first-round bout. This was followed by heartbreak — she was 100 grams too heavy to fight for gold.

She’s again stepped out of the comfort zone, quitting sport to enter politics. Politicians have immense power, and the taste of even minimal power creates little despots. But Vinesh, a victim, just might do some good for sport and women if she gets political power. She’s always declared herself to be a non-political person — but by now, at 30, she knows that everything is politics and politics is everything. Stepping into the discomfort zone of politics will be a life-changing decision — hopefully, a fruitful one in her quest for gender justice and equality.