Poverty-struck judokas deserve their dues

Every twist and turn in the lives of the poverty-stricken young judokas from the local Shaheed Bhagat Singh Judo Centre is shadowed by hardship. Unsure of where their next meal will come from, they remain undeterred and keep pushing forward with unwavering determination. Their outstanding performances at the national school games (NSGs) stand as a testament to the idea that no matter how grim the circumstances, no dream is beyond reach and there is always hope for a better tomorrow.

Accomplishing something big in judo is their ticket to decent school education and a pathway into the middle class. However, villains of the piece are two government entities — the Punjab Sports Department (PSD) and the Education Department.

Amandeep Singh is an orphan. He is so poor that somebody advised him to join the judo centre. The logic was that the two government departments pay handsomely if players win medals in national school competitions. He thought this sport will be his ticket to the future.

His father died in 2014 and days later, his mother left him and his two siblings, leaving them to grapple with the contradictions of life. In fact, she blamed her sons for all her misery and decided to walk far away from her sons. “A good mother is only a myth,” says Amandeep, with a sense of dejection.

He has been performing exceedingly well in the NSGs for the last two years. The government owes him a total of 1.50 lakh for his achievements on the judo mat. However, when Balwinder Kaur, secretary of the Gurdaspur judo association, approached the powers-that-be, she was curtly told the government has no money. She says, “If this is the case, why does the government formulate policies and announce prize money in the first place?”

Amandeep’s elder brother Karan, also an up-and-coming judoka, recently left the sport to ensure he earned enough money to provide for his brother’s sporting and educational needs. Harsh, the youngest one, too left the game because Karan could afford to pay for just one of the brothers. The high costs associated with the sport, such as equipment and travel, can be prohibitive for impoverished boys.

Then there is Sukhjinder Singh whom the government owes Rs 50,000. His father is a plumber. He makes sure his son gets a proper diet and the boy’s aim now is to gift his father a medal he wins in the future in any international event. “I have told him to give up the good and go for the great. Whatever may come, I will not let him fall short of money,” says his father.

Varneet Singh is a medal winner in the last two editions of the NSGs. His father drives an auto-rickshaw. He is unable to convert his diesel auto into an e-rickshaw, as mandated by government norms, such is the poverty the family lives in. Yet, he keeps aside an amount of Rs 150 every day for the diet of his son. He has been doing this for the last several years. Varneet is now placed among the top eight Indian players in his weight-category. This has brought a smile on his father’s face. The boy is indebted to his father. “Indeed, a father is one friend whom we can always rely upon,” he says. Varneet says thanks to his father, he can now see a future.

The government has to give Rs 1.25 lakh to Piyush Kumar whose father, incidentally, is a newspaper hawker. Fatherless Raghu Mehra’s rise from poverty to becoming a medal winner is spoken about proudly by his colleagues. His medals, when translated into the government’s monetary benefits, turn into Rs 1.90 lakh. Shivam Sharma, whose father is a labourer, will be able to afford his future education only after the government gives him his dues. Till then, beg, borrow or steal, he will keep on his judo kit and will continue bringing home medals of various hues.

Fourteen-year-old Manak, the son of a man who makes both ends meet by painting walls, says the government has yet to give him Rs 33,000 as prize money. Two years have elapsed and the wait continues.

Coach Satish Kumar says every year, the government asks medal winners to fill up forms but unfortunately, the finances never materialise.

This government has promised, but has not delivered, as far as assurances to its sports persons are concerned. Many judokas say the best way to keep ones word is not to give it.