The biggest news in Indian boxing after Olympian Gurcharan Singh’s Escape to America, was that of the 23-year-old pugilist from Iqbalpore in Kolkata, Mohammad Ali Qamar’s gold in the 48-kg category at last year’s Manchester Commonwealth Games. As is often the case with Indian sports officialdom, his return was received, in his own words, ‘‘in grand style, with lot of flowers and noise’’ and also some empty promises, as it has turned out to be. Qamar’s tryst with stardom was shortlived and he soon came face to face with hard reality. Though a promising boxer, Qamar’s plight is an excellent example, which gives us an insight into the pathetic shape that Indian boxing, and Indian boxers are in. Ask Qamar how life has changed since hitting the fast lane, all one gets is a wry smile. ‘‘Hardly’’, he says, adding, ‘‘I got some money from the Railway Sports Promotion Board and the Bengal Government. But there were promises made by the West Bengal Chief Minister that he would give me a plot of land. It’s been over six months and nothing has happened. The last time I heard from them, they asked me to pay a token amount for the land. It was originally supposed to be in the Salt Lake area, where a katha of land costs Rs 10,000. Now Ashok Bhattacharya (West Bengal Minister for Urban Development), is saying that I will be given land in the Eastern Bypass area, where a plot of land is far more expensive. Now I have to pay over Rs 1 lakh for a katha of land.’’ Asit Banerjee, vice-president Indian Amateur Boxing Federation corroborates Qamar’s statement: ‘‘First they promised Qamar in my presence, that they would provide him with a new residence and a new practice ring in his neighbourhood. The ring has been installed only a couple of days back after he went to New Delhi, but they still haven’t confirmed anything about the plot of land. And now they are asking for money. How is it a regard if Qamar has to pay for the land?’’ There was also a promise by a minister of the opposition in Kolkata of Rs 1 lakh, another sum that has been pending for over six months now. As a result, ‘‘I am still at our quarters in Iqbalpore, and any hopes I had of my family moving to a better area are gone’’. The Union Government, too, joined the bandwagon as the the then Minister for Sports, Uma Bharti promised an amount of Rs 20 lakh to Qamar for his commendable feat. Though its implementation is still pending, Qamar is hopeful that it will eventually come through. ‘‘That was the central government. If they have announced it, I am sure they will honour it. They might have a system and can’t give me the money out of turn. We have been in touch, and they have assured us that it will come through,’’ he said hopefully. As far as his employers at the Eastern Railways were concerned, Qamar was received with the same pomp and joy; given a promotion from being a Junior Clerk to Senior Clerk; and a hike of a princely Rs 2,000! Qamar, ‘‘wrote to the people concerned for a higher post, maybe to an Office Supperidentent, which they promised to give. That would have meant a rise in the salary to Rs 12-14,000 but that’s not happened either. However, it looks like I might be given the post of a Head Clerk now.’’ The tribulation Qamar has gone through makes one wonder about the boxers who are yet to hit ‘big time’. The Railways and the Services continue to be the main patrons of boxing in India. But unlike the more systematic Services set up, the Railways boxers are made to practice and ‘make it’ almost entirely on their own steam. The lack of sports quota job offers for them from the corporate set-up makes life difficult for the pugulists — even to the best. Some of Qamar’s Railways colleagues, all currently coexisting with a posse of mosquitoes at a Karnail Singh stadium dormitory (they are here for the senior national boxing championships), blame the media, and some blame the national obsession with cricket. Taking a cue, Qamar says, ‘‘When Railways won the Ranji Trophy in cricket last year, all the boys were given huge pay hikes and promotions. That’s just a national tournament. I won a Commonwealth gold medal. More than 60 per cent of the Railway boxers in this competition have participated in international competitions, and some, like Jitender Kumar, have won medals in international tournaments. And 90 per cent of them still have class four jobs, while some, like me, have class three jobs.’’ A boxer needs only some basic equipment — gloves, face guards, teeth guards, vests, ring shorts, track suits and ring shoes. But the Railway team, including Qamar are all on their own. ‘‘We have to buy all of that ourselves,” said Qamar. “Nothing comes from the Board. There is no one to keep a check on our weight. No scientific training, dietician or nutrionist either. When we are exposed to international tournaments the diferrence between them and us is for everybody to see. That’s mostly because of the kind of facilities and support they get from their federations.’’ Boxing has always remained a sport for the lower strata of the society, mainly taken up by children out to find a job in the sports quota. Only some, like Qamar, reach the higher levels. But even then, a life remotely resembling ‘good’, stays far away, primarily due to the apathy of the ‘system’.
