
While I try to get myself covered in the tiny piece of cloth, time freezes. I can’t position the piece of loin cloth successfully. Seeing me struggling, the wrestlers take pity and give me suggestions on how to wear it. “Hold it higher, now pull it, tighten the knot.” 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 — 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. “This is freestyle wrestling. In this,...


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