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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 Perversion Must End: A Wake-Up Call on the Waqf Act

The Act is one of the most opaque and draconian laws in a country that prides itself on its secularism, and ought to be repealed forthwith.

The Waqf (Amendment) bill was passed by Parliament after fierce discussion. If the lies and rhetoric unleashed by the opposition are any indication, it looks certain that the Goebbelsian campaign against the bill will continue in many different ways. The government will be branded ‘anti-minority’ and ‘fascist’ and the noise about the constitution being in danger will rise to a crescendo. This apparent concern for the minorities is, of course, only a window dressing for Muslim appeasement, as can be seen from the fact that the Church has come out in open support of the proposed amendment. In this cacophony, one would do well to focus on the facts of the matter before forming any opinion.


Here are some facts about the draconian nature of the Waqf act and the absurdities that have arisen from its implementation. Waqf is the third largest land owner in India after Defence and Railways. Seventy seven percent of Delhi is on Waqf land including the Delhi High Court and even the parliament building. Many of these properties were reclaimed by the government over the last few decades. But in a fit of ‘secularism,’ the outgoing Congress-led United Progressive Alliance (UPA) government in 2014, gifted 123 prime properties in Delhi to Waqf by withdrawing its claim on them. Mukesh Ambani’s home allegedly sits on Waqf land. Even more bizarre is the case of the 1,500-year-old Manendiyavalli Chandrashekharaswamy temple in Tamil Nadu and all the land of Tiruchendurai village in Tiruchirappalli district, which the Waqf Board has claimed as its property. If one asks how can a 1,500- year-old temple be Waqf property when Islam itself is 1400 years old, it becomes abundantly clear that reason, logic, the basic principles of justice and common sense do not apply to any discussion on the Waqf act.


A Waqf is an inalienable charitable endowment under Islamic law. It involves donating a building, a plot of land or other assets for Muslim religious or charitable purposes. These assets are owned by Allah and can never be returned or reclaimed. Once a Waqf, always a Waqf. Historically in India and elsewhere, Waqf has been used for seizing religious properties of others, conversions and spread of Islam. During India’s Islamic period, when the legal system was controlled by the clerics who were guided by the Sharia law, the Waqf was used to create a Sufi network all over the country. Waqf’s money power enabled them to indulge in mass religious conversions.


After Partition, while the government confiscated or redistributed the properties of Hindus who fled from Pakistan, it allowed Muslim properties belonging to those who migrated to Pakistan to be handed over to the Waqf Boards. This created a powerful religious elite with vast resources at their disposal, with little to no accountability. In practice, the Boards have rarely used this wealth for the upliftment of ordinary Muslims; instead, they have entrenched clerical power and fuelled grievance-based politics.


The original 1954 Waqf Act was amended in 1964, 1969 and 1984, but it was the 1995 overhaul under a Congress-led government that conferred sweeping and deeply problematic powers upon the Waqf Boards, thus making a mockery of justice, rule of law and secularism. These included the authority to unilaterally declare any property as Waqf, the establishment of a Waqf Tribunal composed solely of Muslims, and legal protections that make Board decisions nearly impossible to challenge in ordinary courts.


Under Section 40 of the 1995 Act, the Waqf Board is empowered to decide whether a piece of land is Waqf or not - an extraordinary provision in a secular democracy. The cost of conducting the requisite land survey is borne not by the Board, but by the taxpayer. There is no requirement to conduct a public hearing, and the Board is under no obligation to communicate its claim directly to the property owner. Instead, it merely needs to publish a list, and it is the responsibility of each citizen to check if their land appears on it. If the owner fails to object within a year, the claim is automatically accepted. Crucially, there is no statute of limitation applicable to the Waqf Board itself as it can lay claim to any property at any time, regardless of how much time has passed.

And the burden of proof? It rests not with the Board, but with the alleged encroacher, who can challenge the decision only before the Waqf Tribunal, not a regular civil court. The Board can even allege oral donation, supported by supposed usage, such as an informal dargah or cemetery, to appropriate land. Many government lands have been acquired in this manner as Waqf.

This is not just legal absurdity but legislative apartheid. No democracy worthy of its name can allow a parallel judicial structure where only members of one community are judge, jury and beneficiary. It is a medieval hangover dressed in the garb of secularism.


Under Section 54, it has the power to label any property owner as an ‘encroacher’ and demand their eviction, which the local administration is legally obliged to enforce. It is a system that upends fundamental tenets of natural justice.


Such a bizarre law should not exist even for a moment in a country that calls itself ‘secular.’ It must be repealed forthwith in its totality. However, the perverted definition of secularism is so overpowering in our country that this may not happen anytime soon. But the government has done well to make a beginning by getting the amendment passed which one hopes will bring some sense of sanity by controlling the depths of madness to which our country has sunk in the name of ‘secularism.’


Opposition leaders who now decry the amendment as “anti-Muslim” conveniently overlook the fact that such laws were never pro-poor or pro-minority but pro-cleric. True secularism demands equality before the law, not institutionalised double standards. If anything, curbing the unchecked powers of religious boards is a step towards genuine secular governance.


If India is to call itself a secular, democratic republic, then parallel legal systems run by unaccountable clerics must be dismantled. The perversion must end. A state that fears confronting clerical overreach has already surrendered the moral ground it claims to stand on. India cannot tiptoe around institutionalised inequality while pretending to be a modern republic.


That such a system has not only endured but expanded under the watch of so-called ‘secular’ governments speaks to the intellectual dishonesty at the heart of India’s political consensus. The Centre’s amendment is but a small step in that direction. This modest amendment at least breaks the spell. It restores, however partially, the idea that religious institutions must operate within the bounds of public accountability. India cannot afford legal fortresses built on theology, insulated from civil oversight.


Our civilisation is not under threat from constitutional amendments, but from the rot within: a pervasive unwillingness to confront legal inconsistencies masquerading as religious rights. In the name of secularism, they have handed over sovereignty to theocrats. American historian Arnold Toynbee once said “civilizations die by suicide not murder.” If we do not want our ancient civilization to commit suicide, we must act firmly against the machinations of the ‘break India forces.’


(The author has penned three books. One of them had exposed Cultural Marxism. His next book is expected to be released in a couple of months. Views personal.) 

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