WRESTLE MANIA

Our correspondent tries out being a wrestler at an akhada and learns that is not just your body that takes a beating

Our correspondent tries out being a wrestler at an akhada and learns that is not just your body that takes a beating
At 7 am, I reach the Captain Chand Roop Akhada at Azadpur in Delhi. I am ushered into a room full of burly, hefty men chatting and stripping down to their knickers. Now the last time I recollect being in such a room was during swimming lessons at a summer school camp, where I was the tallest and the odd one out.
My present situation is similar, with the exception that these men are taller and much stronger. I am still the odd one out. One of the wrestlers approaches me and hands me a green loincloth. 8220;Wear this and step outside in five minutes,8221; are the cold instructions.

While I try to get myself covered in the tiny piece of cloth, time freezes. I can8217;t position the piece of loin cloth successfully. Seeing me struggling, the wrestlers take pity and give me suggestions on how to wear it. 8220;Hold it higher, now pull it, tighten the knot.8221; Phew! The last tip is most important. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I manage the feat and glance at myself coyly in the mirror. I hear someone snigger. And it is no surprise as I look like a schoolboy with my spindly legs and skinny arms. The only comfort so far is the extra garment that I get to don 8212; the jhaangia, a larger underwear. This is the finishing touch. I then muster courage and step into the open ground.

The sight of brawny men in the wrestling pit, jostling with each other leaves me with a lump in my throat. The guruji, Ashok Dekha, shakes me out of my dreamy state and pushes me into the pit with a well-built champion wrestler, Sombir, who has been wrestling for five years. I say my prayers and proceed.
After a customary handshake, Sombir grabs my arm with one hand while wrapping his other hand around my neck in a position called the bagal doob. With one tug he pulls me to him slapping my face on his sweaty chest with a splat. I feel like David facing up to Goliath.
Next, he shows me how to imbalance an opponent standing face to face. He lifts my leg and pushes me backwards, he demonstrates what is called pat nikaalna. 8220;This is freestyle wrestling. In this, one can grab any part of the body. The idea is to lay the opponent flat on his back to score points,8221; he says.

When I resist, he dashes my hopes saying, 8220;I am being gentle. Or else you may get hurt.8221; I challenge him to be a little harder and he instructs me to lie flat on the floor. With apprehension, I obey his command. Lying over me he locks both hands under my chest and flips me over. His grip is so firm that I feel the tight squeeze on my ribs and let out a scream, 8220;Stop!8221; Sombir calmly lets go and says, 8220;This is Greek-Roman style where the opponent is grabbed from the upper body only.8221;
His voice is like a faint whisper, as I gasp for breath and compose myself. I slowly lift my battered and muddy body up and take a deep breath. Guruji explains to me the need of a good warm up and talks about the nuances of wrestling as the other pehelwans work out with dumbelles, log of wood and do some rope climbing before they begin wrestling. 8220;We train first and then do exercises after the body is warmed up,8221; says guruji.

Wanting to make the most of my opportunity to be a pehelwan, I ask guruji to show me the maddoo a wooden beam with a stone base, it is also called Hanuman ka gada. Images of pehelwans swinging the maddo with ease flash before my eyes.
Guruji obliges and hands me the maddoo with one hand. I reach out for the maddo and slump under its weight. After a few tries I manage to lift it up to my chest.
After that final embarrassing moment, I am offered a Pehelwan thandai a paste of finely grounded powder of almond, cardamom, fennel seeds and sugar stirred in milk and served chilled. My rough morning as a wrestler gets a sweet ending.