Grappling, with women: Small victories & big dreams amid less marginalised contact sport

A few minutes ago two young male wrestlers, coated in grime and sweat, vacated the 20ftx20ft mud-wrestling pit at Shri Lakshmi Narayan Vyayam Shala located in a blind lane near Mumbai’s Chinchpokli railway station. It was time for 18-year-old girls Akanksha Ramchandra Patil and Saroj Lakshman Pawan to grapple. In a series of moves called pat (leg attack), jholi (geneva), ek chak (single leg throw) and kheme (gut wrench) — that can fetch them 1-4 points in a competition — the sparring partners demonstrate their skills in a sport that has become an integral part of their identity. In a cricket-obsessed nation, a fortuitous turn of events has propelled wrestling to the limelight, the latest being actor Aamir Khan’s Dangal, which will release in theatres this week. The movie, inspired by real-life events, is the Bollywood version of the story of Mahavir Singh Phogat who coached his daughters Geeta Phogat and Babita Kumari in wrestling. Geeta was the first Indian woman to win gold at the 2010 Commonwealth Games in New Delhi while Babita, who had won silver at the same competition, went on to bag top honours at the 2014 Games in Glasgow, UK.

Just like the Phogat sisters, Akanksha’s initiation into the full-contact sport too happened through her father. Ramchandra Patil is the khalifa, the term for wrestling coaches, at the 86-year-old vyayam shala. In that sense, Saroj is an outsider. Her father is an electrical technician and her mother, a homemaker. “It was the school PT teacher who suggested that I learn kushti (wrestling). He said I have a wrestler’s build,” says a painfully shy Saroj after a warm-up session with Akanksha. The two met during competitions and became friends a couple of years ago. “They mostly practise on the mat at Lalit Kala Bhavan in Lower Parel, but once in a while, we ask them to wrestle in mud to strengthen their bones and boost stamina,” says Patil.

Women’s wrestling has gained significant popularity in Maharashtra in the last decade, especially after Kaushalya Wagh’s silver medal in the 2006 Asian Games and Haryana’s Anita Sheoran’s bronze in the 2008 Asian Wrestling Championship, says Dinesh Gund. The 45-year-old is the founder and coach of Pune’s Jog Maharaj Vyayamshala, which, a few months before the Rio Olympics, was identified as the main centre in the state to train women wrestlers for Mission Olympic 2020 and 2024. Jog Maharaj Vyayamshala, a four-storied structure, is the only residential women's akhada in the state. “There are at least 300 women wrestlers in Maharashtra, mostly in Pune, Kolhapur, Amravati and Sangli, and for whom Sakshi Tanwar’s medal win at the Rio Olympics has fuelled dreams and aspirations,” says Gund. “We are currently training 45 girls at the centre,” informs the proud father of Ankita Gund, the topper in the 2011 Asian Cadet Championship.

There are six centres for women wrestlers in and around Mumbai, where men too practice in different shifts. Kolhapur district has three training facilities: two in the villages are run by Sports Authority of India and one, run by Krida Prabodhini, is in Kolhapur city. For girls here, 20-year-old Reshma Mane, the recipient of a gold medal at the 2016 Commonwealth Wrestling Championships in Singapore, is a source of inspiration. “I am happy that some 150 girls in Kolhapur alone have taken up wrestling. When I set out more than a decade ago, the situation was very different. I had to train with boys because girls rarely entered the akhada,” says Mane whose father faced opposition for encouraging her to learn kushti, an essentially male preserve. “Thanks to my coach, Ramchandra Sarang, who not only trained me rigorously, but also treated me on a par with male wrestlers, that today I dream of succeeding at the 2020 Olympics.”

In need of patronage

Mane, recently anointed brand ambassador of the Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao campaign, has tasted success, but the story of Maharashtra’s women wrestling is in crying need for government patronage. Though Pune’s Jog Maharaj Vyayamshala received Rs7.5 lakh worth of training equipment and wrestling mats of the same amount this year, the trainees’ diet is an abiding concern for coach Gund. Several girls come from poor agrarian families, that can ill afford to pay for their expensive, protein-intensive diet. “One needs to spend nearly Rs10,000 every month to cover the cost of dry fruit and nuts, milk and meat,” says Gund, who has been footing the bills for four girls because it’s beyond their means.

Other concerns too persist. The akhada where Akanksha and Saroj train at Shri Lakshmi Narayan Vyayam Shala continues to have a temporary roof even in its ninth decade of existence. “We have sought permission from the civic body several times to raise the height of the structure and build a concrete roof. But the civic body has been dithering. The young male wrestlers sleeping on the mezzanine floor above the pit end up suffering as a consequence,” rues Prakash Tanawade, who is associated with the Vyayam Shala. He also points out that the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation has stopped funding local sports for the last 15 years.

In south Mumbai's Colaba, Narsu Chudaman Rashtriya Vyam Shala, run by Babaji Gorao since 1995, is surviving on the subscriptions from the 20 male wrestlers who sleep in its akhada. Gorao, who trains 10 girls here, has been trying to get state patronage, but lacks connections. The upkeep of the mud pit, he says, is an expensive affair. “I have to spend about Rs15,000 every year to change the mud, which contains generous amounts of mustard oil, turmeric, lemon juice, curd and red oxide,” he says. The only silver lining in his story is his 15-year-old daughter Ankita Gorao who has won inter-school wrestling championships three years in a row.

A quiet resurgence

Traditionally, the age-old sport has been a favourite pastime for the economically disadvantaged sections since they have limited means of entertainment, says Dattakumar Yashwant Sawant, a trustee of Shri Lakshmi Narayan Vyayam Shala. In the case of women’s wrestling, which has witnessed a resurgence of sorts across India, success stories have transformed the attitudes of parents even in deeply patriarchal geographies such as Haryana.

For Akanksha, after winning the Pune Mayor’s wrestling competition in 2015, the next big step is to compete at the national level. “I practise twice, from 4:30-7 in the mornings and evenings,” says the first year B.Com student of Guru Nanak Khalsa College. For her classmate and sparring partner Saroj, wrestling has earned her respect from the boys in her neighbourhood. “They will think twice before trying to mess with me,” she says.

The girls can dream of a bright future if they can come up tops. About 25 girls from Jog Maharaj Vyayamshala have jobs in the police force. “That apart, three girls are now grade II officers with the state government,” informs Gund. His daughter, Ankita has been receiving financial assistance of Rs 2 lakh every year for the last three years from the state. Kolhapur’s Reshma Mane has refused a government job as it would interfere with her thrice-a-day training schedule. When Dangal opens at the box office just before Christmas on December 21, the young women wrestlers will have yet another reason to celebrate: a star endorsement of their struggle and triumphs.