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By:

C.S. Krishnamurthy

21 June 2025 at 2:15:51 pm

Ekta Bhyan, Quiet Gold

The strongest lessons in life rarely arrive with drumbeats. They come quietly, sit beside us, and stay long after the applause fades. I learnt this at the recent Peakst8 Festival in the world-class Padukone-Dravid Centre for Sports Excellence Bengaluru. The venue was full of ambition, energy, loud confidence and polished success stories. Yet, it was gold-winning para-athlete Ekta Bhyan who held my attention, not by raising her voice, but by lowering the noise around her. She was an integral...

Ekta Bhyan, Quiet Gold

The strongest lessons in life rarely arrive with drumbeats. They come quietly, sit beside us, and stay long after the applause fades. I learnt this at the recent Peakst8 Festival in the world-class Padukone-Dravid Centre for Sports Excellence Bengaluru. The venue was full of ambition, energy, loud confidence and polished success stories. Yet, it was gold-winning para-athlete Ekta Bhyan who held my attention, not by raising her voice, but by lowering the noise around her. She was an integral part of a panel discussing what it takes to reach the Olympics. Others spoke of pressure, fame and sacrifice. Ekta spoke of routine. Of turning up. Of patience. There were no heroic flourishes in her words. Each sentence was measured, calm and grounded. Listening to her, I sensed a deep reserve of experience. She was not trying to impress. She was simply explaining how life had unfolded. A spinal injury, in 2003, had left her paralysed. This is usually where stories pause for sympathy. Ekta’s does not. She spoke of rebuilding, not rebelling. Of learning what the body could still do, and then working patiently within those limits. Para sport entered her life quietly, not as rescue, but as direction. Over time, she found her space in the F51 club throw, a demanding discipline where balance, precision and control matter more than force. What stayed with me was her restraint. She mentioned podium finishes only in passing. International meets, Asian Para Games, world championships, all appeared briefly and then moved aside. Even the gold medal she had earned was referred to almost casually, as one would mention a milestone on a long road. For her, medals are not destinations. They are confirmations. Steely Discipline Ekta spoke about training. It is not exciting, she said. It repeats itself. Progress hides. Muscles resist. The mind looks for shortcuts. Yet commitment must remain steady. She described days when success meant completing a session without excuses. On some mornings, it was finishing gym work despite fatigue. Evenings meant outdoor practice, carefully timed because regulating body temperature is a constant challenge after spinal injury. For nearly three years, she has not missed a single day of training. With limited muscle use and only about forty per cent lung capacity, each session needs careful planning. Her shoulders are her strongest allies. Other muscles cooperate less. Fingers offer no strength at all. Still, she works with what she has. Over the last four years, this discipline has translated into results. Gold medals at national championships. A bronze at the Asian Para Games. Gold and bronze at the World Championships in Paris in 2023. This season alone, she added gold at the Indian Open Paralympic Championships and a silver soon after. Her personal best stands at 21.5 metres, and she speaks of improving it, not defending it. There was a gentler revelation too. As a young girl, Ekta had once dreamt of becoming a doctor. She wanted to heal. Life rewrote the syllabus. Yet, listening to her, I realised she still heals. Not with medicine, but with example. Her journey treats assumptions and restores belief, quietly and effectively. Human Moment After the session, when the crowd thinned, I walked up to her with my notebook. I asked for her autograph, expecting a quick signature. She paused, asked my name, and wrote hers carefully. That small act reflected everything she had spoken about. Presence. Respect. Attention. Her daily life, she earlier shared, is not simple. She needs two people to help with routine movements, from transferring to travel. Public transport is impossible. Every trip requires planning, space and expense. Often, she bears the cost for three people, not one. Yet, she spoke of this without complaint. The harder challenge, she said, is mindset. People with disabilities are still seen as separate from the mainstream. Expectations are lowered, often disguised as kindness. Ekta resists this quietly. Her competition is internal. Yesterday versus today. Comfort versus effort. Paralysis, she believes, is a condition, not an identity. As I left the venue, the applause felt inadequate. Not because it was soft, but because her journey asks for reflection, not noise. Ekta Bhyan reminds us that ambition can change shape without losing meaning. That success does not always announce itself. Sometimes, it arrives quietly, balanced and consistent. Her strength lies not only in the distance she throws, but in the steadiness she maintains. And in that quiet balance, Ekta Bhyan offers us something rare. A lesson that stays long after the hall has emptied.   (The writer is a retired banker and author of ‘Money Does Matter.’)

Marathwada's Unfulfilled Promise of Progress

On the occasion of Marathwada Liberation Day, the region’s struggle for progress remains an unfinished chapter of India’s development story.

Each year on September 17, Maharashtra marks the Marathwada Mukti Sangram Din or Marathwada Liberation Struggle Day which stands as a solemn reminder of the region’s long and painful battle against the Nizam of Hyderabad’s rule. When India won independence in 1947, Hyderabad remained a princely state under the autocratic rule of the Nizam, who was reluctant to accede to the Indian Union. It was not until late 1948, when the Indian Army launched ‘Operation Polo’ that Hyderabad was annexed, ending the Nizam’s sovereignty and liberating Marathwada.


For the people of Marathwada, liberation was a long struggle against feudal oppression, systemic inequality, and neglect. Under the Nizam, Marathwada’s economy was structured around exploitative landholding patterns, where vast tracts were controlled by a few jagirdars, while the majority remained impoverished peasants. Forced labour, high taxation and poor infrastructure were commonplace, and basic services like education and healthcare were scarce. The region’s development was stifled by a lack of public investment, fuelling resentment and laying the groundwork for mass mobilisations during the liberation struggle.


Even after integration with India, the arc of progress remained elusive. Unlike western Maharashtra, which benefitted from the Green Revolution and industrial investments, Marathwada remained primarily agrarian, plagued by low agricultural productivity, erratic rainfall, and inadequate irrigation facilities. Early hopes that independence would usher in equitable development were quickly dashed as political attention and capital investment bypassed the region. Key industries were concentrated elsewhere, and bureaucratic inefficiencies compounded the sense of abandonment.


Today, the story continues in the form of an ongoing exodus. More than 40 percent of students in Pune hail from Marathwada, driven by the belief that “progress demands education.” In the face of limited local opportunities, young men and women leave their villages to take on urban hardship. Many have succeeded, rising to respectable positions in business, academia and public administration, carrying with them the pride of their region.


Yet their departure underscores a systemic failure. Education, a supposed vehicle for social mobility, is itself in short supply in Marathwada. Reputed universities and technical institutes are few, while the existing ones struggle to maintain quality. Students often journey to Pune or Mumbai merely to secure a basic degree.


Employment opportunities are even scarcer. Despite abundant land, Marathwada lacks industrial hubs and meaningful investment. The economy remains dependent on agriculture, vulnerable to droughts and poor irrigation infrastructure. The absence of industrialisation is not incidental but the result of policy neglect and political inertia.


Healthcare, too, remains grossly inadequate. Local hospitals are ill-equipped, and serious medical cases often require trips to cities such as Pune or Aurangabad. The health infrastructure gap compounds the sense of abandonment and fuels further migration.


In this context, many young people channel their energies into activism, hoping to draw attention to systemic injustices. Yet activism, while vital, offers no clear path toward sustainable livelihoods. Without real structural change, it risks becoming symbolic protest rather than a solution.


Worryingly, forecasts suggest that up to 70 percent of Marathwada’s population could relocate to urban centres within the next decade. Far from exaggerated, this projection reflects a disturbing trajectory. Villages are already emptying, and local economies eroding, threatening the very cultural fabric of the region.


This raises uncomfortable questions about governance and policy priorities. Are political leaders content with symbolic gestures? Is the public resigned to a status quo that consigns Marathwada to perpetual underdevelopment? Or do they cling to the hollow hope that “things will improve someday?” What Marathwada requires is not nostalgia or rhetoric but targeted policy intervention. The state and central governments must invest in quality educational institutions, modern healthcare infrastructure, and industrial development tailored to local needs. Incentivising industry in Marathwada through tax breaks or special economic zones could stem the flow of migrants.


On this Liberation Struggle Day, the challenge is clear. True freedom is not merely the end of colonial oppression; it is the realisation of equitable development and opportunity. The unfinished business of integrating Marathwada into India’s progress story cannot be allowed to linger as a national shame.


Unless addressed, the pain of a migrating Marathwada and the prospect of desolate villages will not remain a distant threat but a grim reality of tomorrow.

(The writer is a lawyer and president, Student Helping Hands. Views personal.)

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