Talking Shop: Mom’s the word

“Character isn’t developed

in ease and quiet. Only

through experience of trial

and suffering can the soul

be strengthened, ambition

inspired, success achieved.”

— Helen Keller

I don’t know how to wrestle or throw a javelin, but my mother probably does. If she does indeed, it is because she is a mother. If she doesn’t, she will learn how to even at her nimble age, and be good at it too. After this 75-years’ mater of two chomps down every wannabe in a jumpsuit on the mat, and outthrows every other aspirant with a ‘spear’ in their hand on the athletics field, she turns around and smiles – sporting a look that kills without so much as a whimper. That, in a gist, is my cutie pie. And that, indeed, leads me to two more.

These two women are such that they benumb and leave everyone awestruck with even the twinkle in their eyes. In all humility and with pride, I speak of Premlata Phogat and Saroj Devi, who shone as truly deserving Indian winners at the 2024 Paris Olympics. These star mammas did an entire nation proud, displaying and flexing the muscle that really matters – the one in their hearts.

Shoulder to shoulder with them stood Razia Parveen from Pakistan, sending score-keepers and number-crunchers scurrying for cover. Analysts might and perhaps should forget the Olympics just gone by from the standpoint of medal wins, but the 2024 chapter of these games will reverberate in our beings for long, given the sheer guts and heart that were on display. It was not just the subcontinent that stood and took notice, but a better of the whole world. Many went into applause and salutations, while some sang eulogies to this wonderful troika. As in wont, though, a few hid their faces in well-earned ignominy, knowing they are the reason that such poignant moments are not repeated more often.

Of trial and suffering

Before we jump into the deep end of the mental recesses that prompt this column, let us take a moment to remember the trial and suffering that goes into shaping those who turn out strong. As Helen Keller admits, steel is not something one is born with, or into. It is something life teaches us. We have all lived long enough to know this is one teacher so full of heart that it is heartless and fiendish, even unpardoning. It may earn callow epithets by shaping us into what we are, yet it plods on; turning men into forms magnificent and myriad, depending on how they have earned their shape – works of beauty or plain hideousness.

Since today is a yesterday’s morrow and we have reason to celebrate, let’s talk of Vinesh Phogat. A woman protestor writhing on the streets of New Delhi a few months back at the hands of a callous administration suddenly made opponents squirm on the wrestlers’ mat. Champion after champion was trounced by this turnaround ‘artist out on a mission’. As she trotted towards a certain podium finish, a few locks of hair were all that it took to crush a billion-and-a-half dreams; Phogat was disqualified for being overweight. All it took to do that was 100 grams, something that Olympic medal tally-leading Americans perhaps put on with every bite of their burgers and fries.

Vinesh’s irate grandfather took a swipe that was an eye-opener: “Were the 140 support staff personnel sleeping? Couldn’t they have asked her to ‘weigh-in’ before official checks? They could have advised her to run a few laps or cut off some locks of hair.” The statement is preposterous, perhaps because it is absolutely sensible and completely true (to the hilt). Vinesh’s mother Premlata now waits to hug her. Regardless of the medal outcome, Vinesh is a hero; a hero who has announced her decision to hang up her wrestling boots for good.

Cross-border adoration

The journey from the wrestlers’ mat to the athletics field was not without its own unique set of mortars and shelling – it was just that the ammunition used in this bombardment was such that it warmed the cockles of two billion hearts on either side of the Indo-Pak border. Throw after throw saw a seesaw faceoff between India and Pakistan, with Neeraj Chopra and Arshad Nadeem leading the charge for their respective nations.

As India’s near-sureshot chance of a Gold at the Olympics, Chopra was cheered by 1.4 billion people as he moseyed his way down the runway repeatedly. And each time Nadeem let fly his own Norse Gungnir, he was applauded and egged on by more by 300 million people. It was nail-biting, quite touch and go.

Later, when Chopra walked towards the winner’s podium to collect his Olympic silver, he was all but serenaded by two billion Indians and Pakistanis worldwide; exactly the same experience that Nadeem enjoyed when he was handed his Gold. The cheers turned even more strident when the two competitors looked at each other, wrapped their national flags around themselves and hugged one another for a long, long time.

Leading the post-presentation-ceremony charge were their mothers – Saroj Devi and Razia Parveen – who simply said both sons belonged to both of them, “proud moms happy for both children”. Chopra was visibly upset with his performance, but mama Saroj was overjoyed. “We are very happy with the silver. The one who got gold is also our child and the one who got silver is also our child,” she said, leaving everyone misty-eyed. Nadeem’s mother Raziah also prayed for the continuing success of her “two sons, who are not only friends, but brothers”. When she said she also prayed for Neeraj so that he gets more success, the script couldn’t have gone more wrong for the mischief-makers who have been s(p)oiling such bonhomie for decades.

A very crafty ‘other side’

Strangely enough, the strength and moral fibre of Saroj and Razia reminds me of none other than Sir Winston Churchill, who once said: “Never does a man portray his character more vividly than when proclaiming the character of another.” Churchill was right, wasn’t he? For those who disagree, a ready refresher course is available for free on social media, which is flooded with inflammatory addresses and speeches made by our esteemed politicians in the electioneering phase of the recent Lok Sabha polls.

Sadly, they are only a few in a large bunch of misfits dedicating to creating and maintaining a rift. It is quite surprising and disappointing that even in today’s day and age, many in the masses fall prey to the shenanigans plotted and vitriol spewed by mischief-mongers. The saving grace is that light is finally making its way into dark crevasses, waking people up and making them realize that the tactics of these divisive forces are engineered for only one purpose – to line their own pockets, stomachs and bottoms at the cost of others.

After all, till there are battles and wars, scavengers and vultures will circle and reconnoitre, biding their time to ravage and consume. End the wars, though, and we could set the course for extinction of this avaricious breed and creed. The ones who can be trusted to make a true start and keep the journey on course are those who are selfless and simple. Given this job description, the only suitable candidates are moms. The sooner that always-right geriatric and fast-balding men such as I realize this, the sooner the world will turn into a better place.

Today though, is about celebrating Saroj, Premlata and Razia. Mommy.

The writer is a veteran journalist and communications specialist. He can be reached on [email protected]. Views expressed are personal