Beyond the Finish Line: The Silent Struggle of India’s Athletes
By Amita Sharma
Yesterday morning, I turned to my daughter and said, “I want to write something about sports. Do you have any thoughts?”
She paused, met my eyes, and said calmly, “You don’t need many words. Just write —
‘Door tak koi rishta nahi.’
(There isn’t even a distant connection.)
In that single sentence, my heart felt both heavy and proud.
My daughter is a national-level swimmer. I’ve seen her wake before sunrise, plunge into freezing water when the world is still asleep, and push her body until it aches — not for fame or money, but for the love of her sport.
As a mother, I’ve sat in the stands with my heart pounding louder than the starter’s gun. I’ve clapped with trembling hands when she won and held back tears when she didn’t. But what hurt most wasn’t her defeat. It was the silence of a system that should have cheered for her — and didn’t.
Every four years, during the Olympics, we raise our hopes sky-high. Yet, we count our medals on one hand. The world sees the podium finish, but not the lonely, broken, uphill road our athletes walk.
In our country, when a sportsperson shines, politics and systems don’t always lift them higher — instead, they often tie invisible weights to their hands and feet. When success comes, everyone wants credit. But when athletes falter, when they’re tired, when they need support the most, the voices vanish. All they hear is, “Now prove yourself again.”
Do they not see? These athletes have already proven themselves a hundred times — by daring to dream in a country where dreaming in sports comes at a cost.
I’ve seen my daughter cry in silence after competitions, not because she lost, but because she wasn’t seen. I’ve watched her give her all and still wonder if it was enough for those who matter. And yet, every morning, she ties her hair, zips up her bag, and walks to the pool — with no expectations, only determination.
That is the soul of Indian sport.
Quiet. Strong. Tireless.
I don’t know how many medals we will win at the next Olympics. But I do know this: behind every athlete is a story. A fight. A family that believes. And a spirit that refuses to give up.
Maybe one day, we will build a system that truly deserves them.