For all the bulk they carry, with their diet of ghee and milk, wrestlers need to be extremely flexible. And Kumar’s ears document the number of times he was grabbed, only to slip away and fight another match.

Biologists call it “pinna”, the upper flap of the ear. On Kumar’s proud person, the ears find likeness to the surface of the Water Cube. They have been flattened. Opponents have grabbed them to pull him down. Today, they frame a beaming face in the late-afternoon Beijing drizzle, as Kumar tells you of the proud but somewhat sidelined tradition he comes from, the tradition that has made him, even in this season of individual accomplishments, India’s sixth holder of an individual medal.

India’s presence at Olympic wrestling is mediated through the akhadas. When its practitioners explain to you where their journey began, as Kumar and his coaches do today, the story goes back to boyhood apprenticeships under pehelwans, the story sits upon the application of generations before them at the sandpit.

Wrestling in his blood

Kumar, from Baprola village in Delhi’s Najafgarh, says you have to understand how rooted wrestling is in the fabric of urban India. So when you again ask him how it is that he came to wrestling, all he can do is repeat, parents “ko shaukh tha ki pehelwani karoon”, they were keen that I become a wrestler. His father had been a wrestler, his older brother is one.

He was in seventh grade when he joined the akhada. It was an existence completely given over to the discipline of the akhada, it was held together by a unique brotherhood, and it floated on a dream for the big chance.

Hard work and dedication

It was learning by total immersion. Kumar says he went home perhaps once every five-six months. The routine worked like clockwork: wake up at 4 am, practice till late morning, rest, and then practice again before calling it an early night. The brotherhood was established by the dorm atmosphere. (Kartar Singh recalls his own youth at Delhi’s Ghanta Ghar’s famous akhada. There were five rooms, 100 boys, and two charpoys for the seniors. Even today, says Kumar, in the morning the bedding is quickly cleared away so that the mat can be set up for practice.)

But home remained a source of nourishment. Even now, says Sushil, his father journeys 25-30 km every morning to get him his daily ration of 3-4 kg of milk. He is vegetarian, and the other great source of protein for him is butter.

He knows what his Olympic victory means. Earlier boys aspired to be Olympians, he says, the very act of qualification being an accomplishment. Now the standard will be a victory.

Indian pehelwans traditionally sized up their opponents in the sand. That’s changing. The technique of the mat is far quicker than that gained in the sandpit. Some wrestlers make the transition. But the sport had changed in other ways. Earlier the competition was longer, allowing a wrestler to slowly unfold his strategy. Now, they say, with three rounds of two minutes each, speed is essential.

And maybe now, Kumar’s ears will be that much out of the reach of his opponents.