There is a recurring nightmare in Indian sports that has nothing to do with podium finishes or doping scandals. It is the logistical humiliation of the journey home.

For the second time in recent history, a national-level pole vaulter has been forced to reach out to nnissports as a last resort, pleading for the dignity that their medals should have already bought them. In January 2026, it was Dev Meena and Kuldeep Kumar who faced a similar ordeal. Today, the victim is Kavin Raja, the 2026 U20 Federation Cup champion and the freshly minted gold medalist at the Indoor Nationals in Bhubaneswar.

The image is as jarring as it is shameful: A young man, having just conquered the vault in the U20 category, finds himself stranded for over 12 hours at Rajahmundry railway station. He isn’t alone; he is accompanied by fellow athletes and his primary tool of the trade—his poles.

The Ordeal at Rajahmundry

Pole vaulting is a sport of precision and expensive equipment. Yet, Kavin Raja was forced to navigate an overcrowded train where there was literally no space to breathe, let alone store 15-foot fiberglass poles. With no other option, the athletes tied the poles safely to the outside of the train window.

While the train was in motion, the situation turned from difficult to dangerous. Reports suggest that railway staff, who initially raised no concerns, later cut the ropes securing the equipment while the train was moving. It took an emergency chain pull by a fellow athlete to prevent the destruction of the gear—and a potential disaster on the tracks.

Critics and bureaucrats will undoubtedly hide behind the “Railways Manual,” arguing about luggage dimensions and safety protocols. They will say that poles are “oversized items” and that athletes should follow the bureaucratic labyrinth of freight booking.

But this raises a much larger, more haunting question: How do we actually treat our athletes?

We are a nation that erupts in collective euphoria when an athlete stands on a podium. We tweet our pride and drape them in garlands upon their return. But the reality between the “Gold” and the “Gala” is a grim one. Imagine the scenario: an athlete wins a national championship, represents the future of Indian track and field, and is then expected to be packed like sardines in a general compartment, guarding their life’s work against a system that treats them as a nuisance.

A Systemic Failure

If a musician travels with a cello or a photographer with a tripod, the world understands. Yet, our elite vaulters—the few who can actually clear five meters—are left to negotiate with unsympathetic station masters.

We cannot demand Olympic medals on one hand while allowing our champions to be stranded on railway platforms with their equipment tied to windows like an afterthought.

Kavin Raja’s story has been heard several times over. It is a story of a gold medalist treated like a trespasser. Until we fix the journey, we have no right to celebrate the destination.

If you have been in a similar situation or have more information on Kavin’s current status, DM us or write to us. This needs to change.