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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.’)

The Lost Art of Critical Thinking

In an age of instant outrage and echo chambers, the rapid erosion of independent thought is being driven by systems that reward conformity and emotional ease.

Imagine a world where few ask “why?” anymore. What happens to a society when the ability to reason, challenge, and reflect is replaced by quick reactions, shallow opinions, and echo chambers of agreement? The world has become so loud, so fast, and so saturated with information that the human mind, once a powerful tool for inquiry and growth, has dulled into passive acceptance.


This is not some distant possibility. It is already happening. Many philosophers and social scientists have warned of this trend, sometimes calling it collective shallowness. It does not necessarily mean that people are unintelligent. Rather, individuals increasingly accept ready-made ideas and give up their independence of thought without realizing it. When that occurs, societies become easier to control, divide and mislead.


Rote Learning

Part of the problem lies in systems designed more for efficiency than enlightenment. Schools and universities often reward memorisation over exploration. In India, for instance, students preparing for board exams such as Class 10 and Class 12 focus on practising most probable questions. They are evaluated mainly on standardised answers, which teachers find convenient to correct. Many take the path of least effort. Those who ask unusual questions or try different approaches are not encouraged; they may even score fewer marks. Yet many of them shine later in life, when original thought and problem-solving matter more than exam results.


Teachers themselves often prefer the safe and predictable. Researchers chase popular trends or easy numbers instead of grappling with difficult questions. Politicians resort to slogans rather than evidence. Decision-makers frequently adopt popular policies without carefully examining long-term consequences. In every case, the path of least resistance prevails over the harder work of reasoning.


Information Overload

The digital age promised a flood of knowledge but delivered instead a tsunami of noise. Neuroscientist Daniel Levitin notes that the average person today handles many times more information each day than just a few decades ago. Our brains, however, are not built to cope with this flood. Overwhelmed, we often rely on mental shortcuts. Instead of weighing evidence, we glance at what others believe. This instinct, known as ‘social proof,’ is natural but makes us vulnerable to shallow thinking.


Another worrying trend is the decline of deep reading. Research by scholar Maryanne Wolf suggests that digital media is reshaping the reading brain: people skim more, jump between screens and struggle to focus on long texts. Yet such focus is essential for real analysis. Without it, understanding remains superficial. Carl Sagan warned that we live in a society deeply dependent on science and technology, yet very few people understand these subjects. His concern was not ignorance alone. It was the loss of the ability to think critically about the systems upon which we rely.


Uncomfortable Truths

Critical thinking also requires confronting uncomfortable truths. It asks us to admit we might be wrong. To change our minds in the light of new evidence. To challenge our identities and cherished beliefs. The psychologist Erich Fromm argued that many people prefer to give up their independence of thought because freedom brings responsibility, and responsibility is difficult to handle.


Social media fuels the fire further. These platforms often reward outrage more than nuance, and they thrive on division rather than understanding. As Marshall McLuhan famously said, “The medium is the message.” The way we consume information pressures us toward speed instead of depth, certainty instead of humility and popularity instead of truth


How, then, do we reclaim critical thinking? The answer lies not in intelligence but in courage and practice. Courage to admit we may be wrong. Courage to listen before speaking. Courage to say “I don’t know” and search for a better answer. Socrates’ ancient wisdom remains apt: “The only true wisdom is in knowing that you know nothing.” That humility is the starting point.


Rebuilding a culture of inquiry must occur at all levels. Students can be encouraged to ask at least one deeper question in every class. Teachers can grade for reasoning steps, not only for correct answers. Researchers can preregister studies to focus on substance rather than fashionable results. Politicians often prefer slogans to evidence, and decision-makers may feel compelled to adopt popular policies quickly. Instead, they could require evidence briefs laying out pros, cons, and uncertainties before acting.


On the personal level, small habits matter. Read one long article or book chapter without glancing at your phone. Seek out at least one opposing view each week - not to argue against it, but to understand it. Before sharing a post or claim, trace it to its source and read at least the summary. Prefer primary sources over summaries wherever possible.


Psychologists call this metacognition: thinking about our thinking. Another powerful habit is dialectical reasoning - the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind long enough to learn from both.


Today, critical thinking is not merely an academic skill but a moral choice. It is the choice of truth over comfort and that choice can be painful. Yet clarity is always preferable to ignorance, because reality, however demanding, is the only ground upon which freedom stands.


The disappearance of critical thinking is not inevitable. For the future will not be shaped by louder voices or sharper slogans, but by minds willing to sit with complexity and value understanding over easy victory.


While critical thinking is fading, it can be restored through awareness and reflection. It begins with one simple act: thinking for yourself with humility and courage. And if each of us pauses once a day to ask a better question, this culture of thinking will gradually return.


(The author is the former Director, Agharkar Research Institute, Pune and Visiting Professor, IIT Bombay. Views are personal.)

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