Love is a racket emotion.

On the tennis court, it signifies emptiness, loss, humiliation.

And, yet, it is love for the game that keeps the most tenacious players going.

Not to forget, love keeps them going long after their glorious fifteen seconds on grass or clay have evaporated into the mists of history.

Archana Venkataraman basked in that spotlight. She was a rising star.

It takes a family wedded to tennis to raise a star, and hers was no different. From age four, between school days and holidays in Bengaluru, she and her sister Arthi were ferried from one tournament to another, one coaching clinic to the next.

It paid off. Archana won her maiden title at age seventeen. Soon, she was crowned national champion.

The decade turned. The 1990’s brought Liberalisation. The national economy opened up. Sponsor money began to pour into sporting events. Yet, in a nation besotted with cricket, facilities and infrastructure for tennis were scant. Promising players paid their own way for the most part. Only those undaunted by the expenses remained in the fray.

In 1998, Archana and Arthi won an International Tennis Federation grant of $2000 to play tournaments in Europe. The trip was a revelation: every match the sisters lost counted for lessons learned. They brought their experience back home to India and had a productive run for the next three years.

The competition was getting fierce, but Archana Venkataraman held fort. Until, at the finals of the National Games in 2002, she came up against a younger, hungrier, grittier rival — 16-year-old Sania Mirza. Playing the newcomer on her home turf in Hyderabad and booed by a hostile crowd of spectators, Archana went down in a firestorm of deuces.

And thus began Sania’s decade.

History celebrates victors but their thrones are held aloft by the bruised arms of the vanquished. When her fortunes in competitive tennis faded, Archana threw everything into rearing the next generation of stars at her coaching academy in Bengaluru.

In over a century of competitive tennis, only four Indian women have made it to a Grand Slam event. Viewed in that sobering light, Archana Venkataraman’s story is one of pride, guts, and raging against the odds, shortchanged only on glory.

No love lost there.

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This show is produced by Confluence Media for Radio Azim Premji University.

Credits:

Achie Humtsoe, Anisa Draboo, Gautam Datt, Jasleen Bhalla, Josy Joseph, Omair Farooq, and Siddhartha Mishra

For a comprehensive list of acknowledgments and resources, please visit our website: https://azimpremjiuniversity.edu.in/almost-perfect-stories-of-forgotten-indian-women-athletes-2

Chekrovolu Swuro came agonisingly close to fame, only to have the wind whisk it away from her. Taking aim at glory is not quite enough for an archer. For the arrow to chart a victorious course, it is equally important to have the wind in one’s favour. Lesson learned, she bowed out from the limelight that was so briefly hers to cherish.

Swuro made history as only the second athlete from the northeast Indian state of Nagaland to represent India at the Olympics. She represented India in numerous international competitions, where she participated in the women's individual and team events. She won medals at the national level and became a key figure in promoting archery in her home state. Yet, she sometimes wishes that life had been kinder to her, and her voice chokes with emotion as she recalls her heartbreak moment during the 2012 London Olympics.

Despite her strong performance throughout the competition, Swuro’s medal dreams were crushed when she was eliminated in the decisive round of 16. Her future prospects were eclipsed by the rise of another star — the teenage prodigy from Jharkhand, Deepika Kumari — who would go on to become India’s most decorated archer and the World No. 2.

Swuro has receded into the back pages of history. Today, she serves as a deputy superintendent in the Nagaland Armed Police. A mother and a homemaker, she leads a relatively quiet life. Yet, her brush with international sporting glory inspires many aspiring archers from India’s northeastern states to take up the sport.

In this episode of Almost Perfect, a series that examines the stories of Indian women athletes who competed alongside the stars but fell short of stardom, we hear from Chekrovolu Swuro about how she veered off target at a crucial moment in her life.

This show is produced by Confluence Media for Radio Azim Premji University.

Credits:

Achie Humtsoe, Anisa Draboo, Gautam Datt, Jasleen Bhalla, Josy Joseph, Omair Farooq, and Siddhartha Mishra

Radio Azim Premji University:

Akshay Ramuhalli, Bijoy Venugopal, Bruce Lee Mani, Harshit Hillol Gogoi, Narayan Krishnaswamy, Prashant Vasudevan, Sananda Dasgupta, Seema Seth, Shraddha Gautam, Supriya Joshi, and Velu Shankar

For a comprehensive list of acknowledgements and resources for further exploration, visit our website: https://azimpremjiuniversity.edu.in/almost-perfect-stories-of-forgotten-indian-women-athletes-2

In 1984, Bachendri Pal became a household name when she conquered Mount Everest, becoming the first Indian woman to do so. Her success, however, cast a shadow over her teammates. Chandraprabha Aitwal, Rita Gombu, Rekha Sharma, Harshwanti Bisht, and Sharawati Prabhu also attempted the climb but fell short of the summit — and the ensuing stardom.

Rita Gombu Marwah hails from the first family of Indian mountaineering. Her great-uncle, Sherpa Tenzing Norgay, made history when he recorded the first documented ascent of Mount Everest along with Sir Edmund Hillary in May 1953. Rita’s father, Nawang Gombu Sherpa, was the first man to summit the world’s tallest peak twice. Driven by her heritage to love the mountains, Rita trained rigorously and was thrilled when she was named part of the 1984 expedition to Everest, a team of six Indian women and eleven men to attempt the ascent.

As a member of Bachendri's team and a remarkable climber in her own right, Rita came agonisingly close to the summit before being thwarted by harsh weather conditions. Her attempt to reach the summit was cut short by only 200 meters due to adverse weather. In this episode, we hear the story of that almost-perfect moment from Rita Gombu Marwah.

Despite their personal setback, Bachendri's success brought joy to Rita and her teammates, though the anguish of opportunity lost would haunt them all their lives, underscoring the bittersweet aftertaste of sporting achievements.

This show is produced by Confluence Media for Radio Azim Premji University.

Credits:

Achie Humtsoe, Anisa Draboo, Gautam Datt, Jasleen Bhalla, Josy Joseph, Omair Farooq, Siddhartha Mishra

Radio Azim Premji University:

Akshay Ramuhalli, Bijoy Venugopal, Bruce Lee Mani, Harshit Hillol Gogoi, Narayan Krishnaswamy, Prashant Vasudevan, Sananda Dasgupta, Seema Seth, Shraddha Gautam, Supriya Joshi, and Velu Shankar

For a comprehensive list of acknowledgments and resources, please visit our website: https://azimpremjiuniversity.edu.in/almost-perfect-stories-of-forgotten-indian-women-athletes-2