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From
Tehelka Magazine, Vol 9, Issue 38, Dated 22 Sept 2012 |
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| CULTURE & SOCIETY |
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PARALYMPICS |
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Red Tape Trips Medal Hopes
Top officials of the Paralympics Committee vacationed in London, at the expense of Paralympians geared for the defining event of their lives, says Nishita Jha
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Fighting odds Farman Basha, power-lifter (left); Girisha Hosanagara, high jump (right)
Photos: Getty Images, AP |
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IT BEGAN with the words — Farman Basha is holding a Press Conference. On day four of the Paralympics (29 August – 9 September), power-lifter Basha was no longer a medal hopeful; just a man on a wheelchair, holding a press conference. Athletes from the Indian contingent were still waiting to compete, and Girisha Hosanagre was yet to win his crucial silver medal. The small huddle of reporters and volunteers at the otherwise deserted Stratford Bus Station listened to him and his wife Antonita, as they alleged that mismanagement by the Paralympics Committee of India (PCI) had caused him and other athletes to perform badly, miss out on medals and, at times, even meals. As a news camera cut from a close-up of Basha telling the press that Antonita had sold her jewellery to come to London with him, to a shot of her wheeling him away — a distressed volunteer turned to me and said, “Everything he is saying is absolutely true, but isn’t he overdoing it?”
He wasn’t. Three days prior to the opening ceremony, Basha had already sounded alarm bells telling the press that the PCI did not care about medals, that officials were vacationing in London at the cost of providing athletes with coaches and escorts. While all the other athletes were hard at training, he had been told by the PCI to “enjoy London” instead of complaining. At 38, Basha, who contracted polio when he was two years old, had won seven consecutive gold medals at the National Games. Since he began training in earnest, he has never lifted anything below 158 kg, until his event at the Paralympics where he lifted 150. His temporary coach Vijay Balachandran admitted this was because Basha’s personal coach, Satyanand, was not given accreditation to enter the Games Village and guide Basha.
Other athletes, though less vocal in their ire, were similarly affected. Wheelchair-bound discus-thrower Amit Kumar Saroha threatened to boycott his event if his coach Naval Singh was not permitted into the Village. Singh was allowed entry on a day pass, when hours of training were precious. Saroha, ranked No. 2 by the International Paralympics Committee prior to the Games, is now at No. 8. While other athletes and coaches trained every morning, swimmer Sharath Gayakwad, who won a bronze at the Para-Asian Games despite an injured shoulder, swam alone. “It would definitely have made a difference if my coach could’ve been there. I could only hear his voice in my head,” he smiles. Gayakwad bettered his timing at each of his four events at the Paralympics Games and says he is thankful that at least his coach could visit him for a few hours every day. Permitted to speak by Amrita Singh and Ashfaq Ahmad, the only PCI officials trying to control the damage at Basha’s conference — on the condition that he would highlight the PCI’s achievements — javelin-thrower Jaideep Singh said, “If the one person that’s been with you through training, through the victories and defeats, the one person who can make you feel like you are capable of something is missing, how are you supposed to perform?”
ONCE BASHA lost the medal, and a media storm ensued — making him the face of the anti-PCI campaign — officials began dismissing him as a “bitter attentionseeker”. Meanwhile, to stem the negative press, PCI Chef de Mission Ratan Singh agreed to give TEHELKA an interview explaining his side of the story. As I waited, the volunteer assigned to Singh informed me that he was just waking up from one of his ‘frequent naps’. Over the next hour, Singh, (once a mid-distance national gold medalist or, according to him, the ‘fastest man in India’) criticised the techniques of several athletes, saying they were too concerned with details like meals and coaches to win, and that he would ensure a four to six month ban against athletes who had spoken to the press. At the time of publication, Basha and Saroha are the only two athletes from the Indian contingent who are yet to receive their certificates of merit and participation from the PCI.
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Fighting odds Sharath Gayakwad, swimmer (left); Amit Kumar Saroha, discus (right);
Photos: Nishant Ratnakar, Garima Jain |
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While this correspondent was flown to London by the PCI to cover the Games, following the series done by TEHELKA on para-athletes, when the interview with Singh went online, TEHELKA’s access to the PCI top brass was revoked. No one from the PCI except its treasurer agreed to comment on Ratan Singh’s interview, asking how Singh’s son Amar made it to London in spite of the fact that his bills were never sanctioned. Former para-athletes, coaches and even Singh’s own travel agent wrote in to say that his statements about covering his own costs and offering unflagging support, were patently false. A former shot put and discus thrower, Venkatesh KY, who participated in the Paralympics in 1994, the year Ratan Singh joined as Chef de Mission, said “Ratan and his son Amar Singh have turned up only at International para-athletic events, never the local or national level games.” This year Singh took Sathyanarayan and Munishwar, the joint secretary and vice-president of the PCI, respectively, to the Games as coaches, whose expenses had to be borne by the PCI. Singh claimed as administrative officials they had paid their own way. Through an interview, riddled with inconsistencies, the only vein that emerged clearly was Singh’s deeply patronising attitude towards the athletes. He repeatedly said that he “just couldn’t understand” why athletes spoke out to the press — “it’s a big deal for them to participate, to even be at the Games,” he said, later adding, “there’s such a variety of dishes to eat here. Why must they complain?”
FROM SINGH’S window, one could watch the euphoria pulsing through the entire Olympic park. Outside his door, however, the Indian contingent was in low spirits. When Girisha Hosanagare won India’s first silver medal in 28 years for high jump at the Paralympics, the Chef de Mission finally emerged from his room to walk around the Plaza, literally leading Hosanagare by the medal to pose for photographs. Hosanagare was instructed to make sure every interview he gave contained a byte of positive press for the PCI to counter Basha’s claims.
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Photo ops Officials pose for photographs with silver medalist Girisha Hosanagara
Photo: Nishita Jha |
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In a different corner of the Plaza, Basha and Antonita ran into Nigerian powerlifter, Yakubu Adesokan, who had broken the world record. As they posed for a photograph together, Basha tried on Adesokan’s gold medal, “This might be the closest I ever get to one,” he smiled, as the flash went off.
The hue and cry around Basha’s conference finally led Union Sports Minister Ajay Maken to issue a show-cause notice to the PCI. It was a victory that meant too little and came too late. Foreign volunteers and athletes were shocked and amused at the way Indian officials behaved. “Every day, I’ve seen a junior member of this team, Amrita Singh, do all the work, while the Secretary General only heads out of his room for dinner, it’s ridiculous,” admitted one volunteer assisting the Indian contingent. Amrita, who is Gursharan Singh’s daughter, lived outside the Games Village with her family.
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Ratan Singh and his son have turned up only at international paraathletic events, never the local or national games |
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“The Australian Para-sports committee looks after my son as-well-as, if not better than, I do,” wheelchair-tennis champion Adam Kellerman’s mother told TEHELKA, “the problem with the Indian officers seems to be that they forget who is really important. The Games are about the athletes, not about the officials,” she said. While the ratio of 10 officials (including coaches and escorts) to every six athletes was uniform for all nations, countries with far larger contingents or even fewer athletes than India managed to accommodate key positions within the quota.
At Heathrow Airport, while departing Paralympic contingents broke into spontaneous cheers, songs and applause, the air in the first class lounge of Indian Airlines was tense. The PCI, in their wellfitting India blazers were preparing for games of a different sort — how to face the sports minister. For those accustomed to silencing reason with bills and paperwork, those who did not have to strive their entire lives for that single moment of transcendence that sport can offer, it is just a question of laying low until the next junket in Rio, 2016. PCI member JP Singh reassures a colleague — “We have bills and receipts for everything. All the media has is quotes from the athletes — what can they do?” Treasurer Gursharan Singh demanded to know how Amar Singh made it to London in spite of the fact that his bills were never sanctioned. Another senior source revealed that they had enough details of financial irregularities within the PCI to make sure the old order will have to be changed. Someone asks, “Who will be the next Chef de Mission?” The stint in London ends in silence.
Nishita Jha is a Senior Correspondent with Tehelka.
nishita@tehelka.com
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