August 8, 2024. The stage is set at Paris’ Stade de France. Neha Ganeriwal, who has captured countless memorable moments from a plethora of sporting competitions across the world — involving icons such as Roger Federer, Simone Biles and Lionel Messi — has taken her position behind the camera to document the men’s javelin throw finals, where defending champion Neeraj Chopra is bracing for gold once more.

The following is Neha’s account of how an historic evening panned out, including moments that were only accessible to a select few.

Neeraj prepares to throw, a minute-by-minute breakdown

Chopra prepares to set the stage alight in the French capital

6.25pm: Two hours to go. A spectator’s sunglasses reflect the luminous sky that promises a starry evening. A gentle breeze, laden with a whiff of overflowing Coca-Cola fountains, is streaming in. The resident purple track is jealous of the visitors — the attention-seeking fluorescent javelins.

7.25pm: One hour to go. For now, all the action is in the locker room. Headbands, finger tapes, jackets, jerseys. All in readiness. Fingers unconsciously gliding over the saffron, white and green. More than 6,000km away, even as the clock approaches midnight, India is wide awake. For javelin. Who would’ve thought!

7.50pm: With his customary casual strides, Neeraj Chopra is out for his warm-up routine. As always, he is cool, confident and supremely self-assured. The crowd is beginning to swell, as are the Tricolours. Once Neeraj is spotted, there are frenzied shrieks of “Neeraj bhaiyaaaaa!”. From people who have paused their lives, spent their earnings and crossed oceans to come and watch. Neeraj won’t let them down. He can’t let them down.

8pm: More shrieks, this time of “Bharat mata ki jai”. Neeraj must be tempted to look at the stands. But he resists. What about looking at his coach? He doesn’t. There’s nothing the coach can tell Neeraj that he doesn't already know. It’s all about focus now for Neeraj. About tracking his steps and setting the marker. The runway is everything. A billion hopes are preparing to take flight along with his javelin.

8.05pm: Neeraj checks on the javelin. There it lies, awaiting his presence. The ends of Neeraj’s fingers playing peek-a-boo with the smooth fluorescent spear. What must be going through Neeraj’s mind? What must he be telling himself? “Are you ready?... “As ever”... “90m today?... “Sure”... “You and me against the world?... “I’ve got your back”.

8.15pm: Ten minutes to go. Back in the locker room, the echoes of a gripping team talk done individually. Tense faces. The occasional yell to hype the self. Shoe laces untied and tied again. Bags unzipped and zipped. Belts unvelcroed and velcroed. Cleats cluttering. Chest thumping. Excitement jostling with tension.

8.20pm: Five minutes to go. Neeraj is queueing up at the entrance. The noise makes for a thundering blur. The nervous moistening of lips. The anxious fidgeting of fingers. “Twenty seconds,” says the coordinator. Nerves threatening to explode the veins. “Defending Olympic champion from India, Neeraj Chopra!”. It’s time to go.

Walk? No, sprint. With folded hands, Neeraj bows, then races to the marker, looking ferociously at the gleaming javelin tip in the eye, with his thick flock of hair flowing just right for the perfect snap. Thank you, Neeraj (on behalf of the photographers)!

The stadium is now a gladiatorial arena. The sound it makes is shaking the ground. Quite literally.

Chopra after executing one of his throws

8.23pm: Two minutes to go. Neeraj’s teeth start to gnaw, slowly cutting off the blood supply to his lips. His veins must be pulsating well above their speed limit. He unzips his jacket and hurls some invisible javelins into the Parisian air. He spot sprints, jerks his hands, stretches his legs and punches his biceps. His powdered hand-claps create smoke-like whirls. One final nervous tug at the compression sleeve. He looks up at the stands and gets the crowd clapping, secretly recharging through their collective vibrations.

8.24pm: One minute to go. “Ready?” asks the referee.

Six throws, that’s it. The million practice throws, the suffering, the sacrifices… it all comes down to this. Four years. That’s the wait.

There’s a complete hush for the simultaneous start of the men’s 200m race. The world stops spinning on its axis for a while. 80,000 breaths held in suspension. 80,000 pairs of eyes piercing the tracks with their unwavering gaze. Gunshot. Deafening roar. Showtime.

You know the rest…

Neeraj has found the balance between heroism and humanity

Fast forward two hours, and a rather dejected Neeraj Chopra secures a silver medal, with the only shot he registered. His hands are folded as, draped in the Tricolour, he bows to the boisterous crowd. His face suggests that despite becoming India’s most decorated Olympian, he feels like he has let himself down this evening. But that’s not my takeaway from proceedings.

What stood out for me was how an Olympic champion, swamped with million-dollar sponsorships and the world’s most populous nation vicariously living through him, remains unchanged at heart. How, deep down, he’s still that little boy from Khandra, hurling sticks across the farming fields in Panipat.

One of the things I dislike about sports coverage is that achievements are almost always amplified through the lens of numbers. Value is determined by what you produce and not by who you are. Very rarely do we make space for things that transcend bottomlines and touchlines.

Chopra took time out to interact with fans following his event

At the same time, it’s true that the goal of competitive sports is winning, not camaraderie or humanity. This goal of winning at any cost requires one to be ruthless, self-centred and obsessive — not the kind of adjectives we usually look for in people we like.

And yet, once in a while, there comes a sportsperson who finds the balance between heroism and humanity. Who can reach the top without becoming insufferable in the process. Who is able to keep their judgement straight and their conduct pure. They get the basics right. Not just of being a top-tier athlete, but of being a human being. They can’t be compelled or shamed into doing anything against their will. Their innate integrity and decency makes them stand out, and not their swagger. They care about improving, not impressing. Neeraj Chopra is one such athlete.

Long after the cameras have stopped following him, Neeraj walks to the throw line, still trying to understand why he faulted five out of six times. It bothers him like a persistent itch in his lower back that he just can’t seem to scratch. Once he is done exchanging accusatory glances with the touchline, he makes his way out. Not to the impatient broadcasters and media where he is expected, but around every inch of the stadium stands — shaking hands, taking selfies and indulging his fans. Coordinators are impatient, broadcasters probably going mad. “They’re waiting, I have to go,” he keeps mumbling, but doesn’t leave until every single fan has got their share of Neeraj time.

No other athlete has taken the time or had the empathy and selflessness to make their Olympic moment about others

A smiling Chopra with India’s first silver medal in Paris

The men’s javelin throw was my eighth day at the athletics at Paris 2024. Athletes from all over the world have competed here in the past week. But no other athlete has taken the time or had the empathy and selflessness to make their Olympic moment about others — not even in the face of victory, let alone in the absence of it.

And mind you, Neeraj wasn’t enjoying this. It was evident that he was struggling to make sense of his performance. “Neeraj! Smile! You’re a medallist!” I scolded, with surprising authority for someone who was essentially talking to a stranger, never mind a double Olympic champion! In my defence, I was exasperated at not having a single picture of his with even a hint of a smile. Obedient as ever, Neeraj finally flashed a semblance of a smile, one that he replicated more easily at the medal ceremony.

“I have great throws in me, and until I do it, I won’t be at peace,” promised the man who has already achieved so much and will surely go on to do so much more. I suspect that once everything has been said and done and it’s time to look back, Neeraj’s legacy will be less about his wins, and more about how he made people feel. His legacy will be about who he is — an exemplary human being who also happens to be an exemplary athlete.

Neha Ganeriwal is a senior photojournalist based out of Paris, whose work has been featured by several international news agencies and publications.