Parental guidance
When D Gukesh was crowned chess world champion—the youngest ever—in Singapore last month, his father Rajinikanth was by his side. At the venue, moments after Ding Liren played that infamous move, an anxious Rajinikanth—who is also Gukesh’s manager—was seen pacing outside the media centre.
Thousands of miles away his wife, Padmakumari, could not take the tension anymore and stopped following the game live. Later she admitted that she was too nervous and was only informed about her son’s victory by her relatives. Myriad emotions would have flashed through the couple’s minds: The sacrifices the family had to make, the troubles and tribulations they had to go through.
An emotional Gukesh recalls the sacrifices his parents made to make him world champion: “I’ve been dreaming about this moment since I started my chess journey when I was about seven years old. The dream was probably bigger for them than it was for me. In 2017 and 2018, when we were running low on money, my parents’ friends sponsored me. My parents had to make many lifestyle changes so that I could play.”
Gukesh’s father took a break from work to accompany his son around the world. An ENT surgeon, Rajinikanth, did not consider it a sacrifice. On the sidelines of the World Championship, he told the media that it is the duty of the parents to support their kids. Taking a break from his practice was a choice they had to make. Since his wife worked in the government sector and could not afford to take too many leaves, the responsibility to go the extra mile for Gukesh fell on him. His decision was rewarded with a Winter of Contentment.
It is winter in Delhi. The temperature has dropped, and so has the visibility. The cold pierces through the flesh and grips the bone. Yet, as dawn beaks, Rakesh Dahiya makes his daily trip to deliver milk, curd and makkhan to his sons—Olympic-silver medallist Ravi and younger brother Pankaj—at the Chhatrasal Stadium. Rakesh has been following this ritual since 2007 when Ravi first started training. As the years flew by, Ravi’s wrestling prowess grew, as did his legend.
He became a world championship medallist. At the 2021 Tokyo Olympics, he won a silver. But little changed for Rakesh. He now considers his routine sacred, a ritual that cannot be broken. He is 54 now; the only difference is that, since 2021, he has been making the trip by the car that his children gifted him, rather than taking the bus. He believes Ravi and his brother should have homemade produce because it is pure and homemade. It’s the magic potion that gives them power.
Ravi’s village is Nahri, about 35 km from the stadium, in Haryana’s Sonipat district. “He doesn’t want us to compromise on our diet,” says Pankaj, who unlike Ravi is a Greco-Roman wrestler. Pankaj joined the stadium in 2013, six years after Ravi. “The routine only stopped during the Covid-19 lockdown for a few months. Otherwise, he never skips his routine,” he says.
Like Rakesh, there are thousands of parents supporting their children in their own way, fuelled by their belief in their progeny. They have come to play a crucial role in many a players’ career. They have the ability to provide emotional stability to their children. It is usually around the age of 12-16 when kids need it most. Some of them become stars, and some don’t, but the effort remains the same.
In Bhopal, summer is every bit as extreme as Delhi’s winter. It is 430C in May, but the warm wind that keeps blowing in, every now and then, feels even hotter. A few minutes in the sun is enough to sap all energy. Yet Sumedha Bhaker sits alone on a bench at the Bhopal shooting academy. The heat outside is a better option than the anxiety she would have to endure in the air-conditioned hall where her daughter Manu is shooting for a place in the Indian Olympics team.
“It is too tense inside,” she says. Seven months later, in January 2025, it is a different story. Manu has won two bronze medals at the Paris Olympics—the greatest individual feat in Indian Olympic sports. And routines have started to settle. If everything goes according to plan, Sumedha can go back to her passion—teaching. “I was teaching for over 15 years. In 2019, Manu thought I should be with her,” she says.
Sumedha, however, doesn’t think she has done anything special for her daughter’s success. “It is all Manu’s effort,” she points out. Manu on her part has talked time and again about how much her mother’s support meant to her during tough times. “She gives me confidence,” Manu often says. “Whatever the result is in the shooting range, I always tell her not to worry and that next time will always be better,” Sumedha responds.
Sumedha relocated to Faridabad, Haryana, to be close to the shooting range, and be with Manu. She wanted her daughter to concentrate solely on her sport. Those two medals in Paris are proof that her dedication has paid rich dividends. “I want to tell all parents to leave your kids alone and give them freedom.
Let them pursue what they want, just support them. You should not push them too much,” she says, adding, “Manu had it inside her, that crazy obsession (junoon) to do well. That quality helped her to do well in her game.” She adds, “Mothers should be there for their daughters and should help them flourish. They have a lot of potential but should be left free. I believe if a mother accompanies a daughter, it gives her a lot of confidence.”
The confidence to overcome setbacks on the way to success sets sports prodigies apart. Shooting champ Swapnil Kusale’s father is a school teacher in a village in Kolhapur. Shooting requires money for equipment and training. After shifting to Pune, Swapnil began his career at the Nashik Krida Prabodhini. Swapnil’s father Suresh remembers the obstacles they had to overcome, “Shooting is an expensive sport.
When my son started practicing, he was initially given one of the old ‘Made in Germany’ guns. Soon, he needed more cartridges and we started to send him money.” Suresh did not want Swapnil to think about financial issues. “We saw the guns other shooters were using and decided to get Swapnil a new gun. We spent close to Rs 6 lakh. I sold some of my land near Kolhapur and took a loan to get it,” Suresh says without regret. It did not stop at that.
“We continued to take loans whenever he needed money to buy equipment or to take part in a competition. After Swapnil got a job with the Indian Railways in 2015, the stress became less. Even then, we would send him money because his salary wasn’t enough to buy cartridges for practice,” he explains.
Money problems don’t plague all sports kids. Seventeen-year-old Tarini Suri, the number one in the under-19 doubles category in badminton in India is one of them. She started playing when she was seven. Mother Bijoya Talwar Suri says, “It didn’t start off as an investment in sports. I was a sportsperson myself and wanted my child to play some sport as well. It just happened that Tarini moved from strength to strength, and there was never a chance to look back.
She is a good student too and got 94 per cent in her Class X board exams with an attendance of barely 17 per cent. She travels a lot and doesn’t get time to focus on her studies. Most players do homeschooling or don’t go to school at all because the sport is so demanding.” The 53-year-old mother believes that sportspeople is brighter than other people because they learn to think on their feet. So, if they are willing to balance studies and sports, they can do both.
“The struggle is, how will they cope in the long run with studies. With sports there is never a guarantee. You may not be a top doctor after pursuing medicine but you’re still a doctor. That is not the case with a sports career. Unless you reach PV Sindhu’s or Saina Nehwal’s level in badminton, you are never going to make the kind of money that gives you a comfortable life. I think you need a Plan B because the success rate is very low,” says the Mumbai resident.
She adds that things have changed now since sponsors want to invest in athletes, especially girls. “My daughter wants to give herself a year and focus completely on sports. She also plans to do a business course and maybe come back and contribute to the sport. So, you have to have a backup,” she smiles.
Family is the best backup for most young sports stars. Like Gukesh’s father, Chess Olympiad teammate R Praggnanandhaa’s mother R Nagalakshmi accompanies Pragg and his sister Vaishali to tournaments. “We are a middle-class family. It was financially a challenge to take care of their training and travel. With help from friends, and with my own savings we managed to put them on track,’’ says Pragg’s father Rameshbabu.
The couple saw the spark and determination in Pragg and with Vaishali too showing keen interest, decided to help them achieve their ambition of playing quality chess tournaments and improving their ranking. Pragg’s mother travels with her children to all tournaments in India and overseas.
“When they play abroad, he misses homemade food. Food is very important since one can fall sick during an important round and end up losing the match. Where there are no adequate cooking facilities, my wife carries an induction cooker. Pragg loves rasam, which sort of peps him up during games,” says Rameshbabu, who believes that his children feel secure and have a sense of calm no matter how the game goes, if they have their mother by their side.
Mum is the word in the world of sports kids. Kalyani Nataraj, the mother of swimmer Srihari who competed at the Paris Olympics, says that like any middle-class parent, she ensured that sport and education went hand-in-hand. Swimming began as a recreational sport to maintain fitness and health. Though Srihari took to water early (he was about three years old) along with his elder brother Balaji, his parents started taking it seriously when he was nearing seven.
“Until then, we used to go about three days a week to the swimming pool since we also focused on other co-curricular activities like music,” she says. His brother was a national swimmer but then Balaji decided to focus on his studies. What keeps Kalyani motivated when things are not going well? There is regret in her voice as she says, “I always wanted to be a volleyball player and I was doing well and played age-group tournaments. But because I was a girl, my parents did not want me to pursue sports. That was always in the back of my mind and when my children started swimming, I supported them.”
Each sport exerts a different toll on parents. Unlike in wrestling where the coaches take wards to competitions, parents are tasked with accompanying their children to sports events like swimming, badminton and chess. Srihari is 23 now and studying in Jain University, Bengaluru. But even today, his mother accompanies him to competitions. “We wanted to move to Canada for Hari’s development in 2020 but couldn’t because of Covid-19. In January 2021, his father passed away,” she says. Life is not easygoing, but she is managing. “To take care of his nutrition, we need Rs 50,000-60,000 per month, which is difficult for me alone to fund,” she says.
Srihari too craves for the constant presence of his mother by his side when he competes. They have just returned from the University Nationals (including the zonal qualifiers in Chennai). “I know what he eats and what he needs after every competition,” says Kalyani, as she talks of nights of missed sleep and days filled with long commutes so that her son gets the best. Srihari says whatever he is achieving in the pool is his mother’s dream. Her dream right now is to see him get a good job. “He wants to join Oil India, hopefully, he will get a job soon,” she says.
If there are fathers who are managers, then there are fathers who are coaches. They accompany their children to competitions, both national and international. Dhirendra Kumar Sen, aka DK Sen, 2021 World championship bronze medallist shuttler Lakhsya Sen’s father, is one of them. The family shifted from Almora to Bengaluru for the sake of the careers of their two sons Lakshya and Chirag.
“From Day One to now, from nationals to internationals, I have been with him in tournaments,” says a proud Dhirendra, who was introduced to the racquet by his father Chandra Lal. “He initiated me into the sport and asked me to join National Institute of Sports Patiala for a course in badminton coaching. I joined in 1987,” remembers Dhirendra.
His first posting as coach was at a Madhya Pradesh university where there was not much work. He transferred to Meerut and later to Almora, where he worked with the Sports Authority of India. He recalls his early days in Almora, seeing the authorities converting a college hall into a badminton court. “I started coaching young children and created the right environment. It wasn’t easy to retain players. We would create players who won in age groups tournaments.
By the time they reached Class IX and X, they prioritised their studies. It was de-motivating for us. Our years of hard work would go waste,” he rues. When he saw interest growing in his own children, he started coaching them. “Both my sons would play well. I thought if I train them, there will be continuity. They will not leave like the others,” he says. Dhirendra is an unusual parent, not like his wife Nirmala, a school teacher who wished her sons to pursue academics.
Some serious discussions followed, and Dhirendra found taking a decision was hard. “I told my wife that let’s see how they progress in the sub-junior and junior level. If they don’t do well they can pursue studies,” he says. Lakshya’s unique fighting qualities had impressed the father. “He used to beat players older than him. Sometimes he would not let go of the match, and at times he would come back from the brink of defeat. He had that fighting spirit to win. He never gave up.
Even when he was around eight he used to enter in U-12 and U-15 competitions so that he could play more matches in the nationals,” Dhirendra recalls. During an age-group nationals in Bengaluru, he requested Vimal Kumar to watch Lakshya play. “Vimal (sir) is a very big name and I requested him to watch Lakshya who was around 10 at that time. I did not tell him that he was my son. So Vimal (sir) watched and he said the player had potential. He asked me who he was. That’s how Lakshya joined Vimal,” he says. Since then Vimal has been coaching Lakshya.
The reason of Dhirendra moving to Bengaluru was driven by the zeal to support his sons. “Around New Year—maybe 2016-2017—my wife and I came down to meet our sons. After meeting them I realised they needed us by their side. Both were doing well but we sensed our presence would be good for Lakshya to take him to the next level. By 2018 we shifted. I left my SAI job in Almora and Prakash Padukone was quite helpful and gave me a coaching job at the academy. Leaving Almora was not easy but for my son we had to make this decision,” he says firmly.
Among the many scary instances, one that is etched in his mind happened in Germany during the pandemic. It was in October and they were stuck in Saarbrucken. “There were no guidelines and no one was telling us anything. After reaching Saarbrucken we were told to undergo a Covid-19 test, and that too in Frankfurt,” he remembers. Father and son took a cab, paying some Euro 400 to Frankfurt.
On their return, they found that Dhirendra had tested positive. “I did not have any symptoms and asked them to retest. It came negative. We sought help from the Indian embassy and the sports ministry, and somehow managed to be back; an ordeal we won’t forget,” he sighs. Lakshya’s lakshya now is the next Olympics.
Since the turn of the millennium, the Indian sports scene has become a lucrative vocation. Naturally parents are encouraging their children to take up careers in sports. Coaches and managers used to accompany children to events some 10-15 years ago, but now, the parents are the new companions. But not all sportspersons succeed. There are millions of parents who quietly support their children, with hopes and dreams. But in a world where only a few reach the top, the belief of millions go unheralded and unsaid, their stories never discussed.
Papa Kehte Hain...
NITISH REDDY/CRICKET
When Nitish Kumar Reddy scored his maiden Test hundred, his father Mutyala was in the stands crying. It was cathartic. A relief. After years of toil and hardship, he was soaking in the moment. When Nitish was not even in the age group state team (U-14), he had given up his job so that he could help him focus on cricket.
Mutyala comes from a humble background. He was a government employee who dreamt of making his son a cricketer. He had to quit his job because he was to be transferred to Udaipur. He had about 25 years of service left. Mutyala even now talks about the decision and how if not for his wife things would have been different now.
“Sometimes I thank my wife a lot,” he had said during an interview with select media in Melbourne. “If she had questioned me that day I would have gone for the job. But when I told her she responded by saying anything is fine with her. I told her that since you want a doctor, let’s make the daughter a doctor but I will take our son into cricket.” Nitesh’s cricket has been his full time job until the pandemic.
Nitish was a mischievous kid and they raised him as one. Though Nitish was playing cricket it was not until the pandemic that he changed. Perhaps the hardship his parents faced during the pandemic made him realise how the sport would support the family.
Here is what Mutyala has to say: “The transformation was during Covid-19. Until then he played U14, U16 casually. During the two years when he was at home, he realised how much the family suffered. That is when he realised that his father was not employed. The family was dependent on him. He decided he should play cricket and help the family grow.”
“We used to wake him at six, his mother used to wake up at four and prepare his breakfast. I used to take him to the ground and bring him back. Once the pandemic was over Nitish was fixated mentally and he used to wake me up! “Dad let’s go to the ground let’s go to the gym”. Before that, I had to pull him.” Rest as they say is history.
PV SINDHU/BADMINTON
PV Ramana’s drives to Gachibowli stadium to drop his daughter, PV Sindhu, so that she doesn’t miss training have become part of badminton folklore. That journey apparently is 30 km one way and he used to wake up at 4 am to drop her. That routine went on for almost 12 years. Likewise, Abhinav Bindra’s father, Apji, invested his own money to build a range for his son to practice. As a result of that commitment, Abhinav could focus on his sport and win India’s historic gold medal at the Beijing Olympics.
Always by their side
For Richard Williams, this support translated into coaching as he remained the teacher for his daughters, Serena and Venus, from an early age. Growing up in Compton, California, the duo learned their early lessons at the public tennis courts from their father and then went on to become one of the most formidable duos in the sport. Coming from a family of swimmers, Michael Phelps always had Olympic aspirations. Being a single parent, his mother Debbie played a huge role in his journey
Inputs from Firoz Mirza, Kalyani Mangale, Ashok Venugopal, Iram Ara Ibrahim