Jeetu trains twice a day. Early mornings are meant for full contact sparring sessions known as jor while evenings are meant to practise technique or daav. (Express photo by Jonathan Selvaraj)
Tradition sits comfortably next to modernity at the Guru Shyam Lal Akhara on the edge of South Delhi. The well-known akhara, where wrestlers train in the traditional Indian style of mud wrestling, kushti, is located alongside the Yellow Line of the Delhi Metro, just ahead of the busy Arjan Garh Metro station.
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It’s about 6 pm, and the sun has begun to slip below the Metro girders on Wednesday evening when wrestlers — most of them youngsters from the surrounding urban villages of Ghitorni and Aya Nagar — begin arriving at the akhara in small groups. They touch the steps of the old Hanuman temple at the entrance of the akhara and then the pit of driven mud or mitti that serves as the practice mat.
A stick of incense is lit and taken around the pit with wrestlers placing their palms over the smoke and then over their heads in obeisance. It’s only after this ritual that they begin training. Silently, the athletes perform calisthenics, climb ropes and practise kushti technique on the mud pit even as the shiny steel shuttle rattles overhead.
A few of the wrestlers will be minor celebrities in their neighbourhoods in a few days. The much anticipated Salman Khan starrer Sultan, scheduled for release next Wednesday, has cast them as extras. The media controversy over Salman Khan’s comments on the gruelling nature of the training for his role hasn’t made it to the akhara. “It’s good that a movie is being made on kushti. I hope Salman does a good job and makes us look good,” says Jeetu pehelwan.
Jeetu didn’t feature in the film, but he is no less of a hero to the other wrestlers at the akhara. They stop their routine to greet him when he swaggers in, around half an hour after the others.
The respect accorded is only partly due to the fact that the 24-year-old is the grandson of the late Guru Shyam Lal, after whom the akhara is named. Jeetu, Jeetinder on official documents, is also a local legend in his own right, a star of the kushti sub culture.
Guru Shyam Lal was an imposing wrestler. “He would be famous for the size of his neck. When he wanted to look sideways, he would have to turn his entire body around,” says Jeetu. He may be a few inches shorter than his 6’2’’ grandfather but Jeetu, dressed in just a langot (loincloth), like the other wrestlers, is no less imposing.
His torso is framed by boulder-like shoulders and massive thighs, the physique making him a huge draw in the dangal circuit — or competitive mitti kushti — that spans the states of north India and central India and Maharashtra.
Jeetu usually trains twice a day. Early mornings are meant for full contact sparring sessions known as jor while the evenings are meant to hone skills and to practise technique or daav. In between the sessions, Jeetu sleeps and eats vast quantities of full-fat buffalo milk, almonds, fruits and more recently, whey protein powder.
While wrestlers are expected to remain celibate and have a family life only after retirement, Jeetu has defied that tradition. He has a six-month-old daughter, Kanvi, and spends time with her whenever he can.
Of late, however, Jeetu been training a lot less frequently. On Wednesday, he simply does a few bodyweight exercises and then digs the pit — a time-honoured way of developing shoulder strength. Jeetu says he has cut back on his routine due to the fact that the dangal season hasn’t yet begun.
Dangals are synchronised with the farming cycle of the villages, from which they draw both sustenance and relevance. “The kushti season in Punjab and Haryana ends by April and begins after August. The wrestling season starts a bit earlier in Jammu and Himachal Pradesh because it is a lot cooler there. The crops would have been harvested by now and people have time to go to dangals,” says Jeetu.
For 13 years, he has been following the harvest cycle, travelling from village to village participating in dangals. “Wrestling is in my blood. I don’t really know whether I wanted to do something else. I followed my grandfather to the akhara when I was seven and began competing in dangals when I was 11,” he says.
While Jeetu has honed his craft in the mud pit, he has competed in the Olympic format freestyle wrestling on synthetic mats as well. “I even won a bronze at the cadet (U-17) nationals in Kanyakumari in 2011. After that, I was selected to the national camp. But there was a lot of politics in the way the selection was done. After that, I lost interest. So I decided to return to the mitti,” he says.
Five years on, Jeetu is satisfied with his decision. “I haven’t lost to any wrestler from the other big akharas of Delhi. Money is not bad either. Big wrestlers can make close to a crore every year. At the Nandurbar dangal in Maharashtra this year, I won Rs 1 lakh and a silver mace. It has been my biggest prize so far,” he beams. Jeetu now travels to competitions in his white Mahindra Scorpio SUV, which has ‘Pehelwan’ and ‘Gujjar’ bumper stickers on the rear windshield. His family rents out property in Ghitorni, part of the boomtown of South Delhi.
There is another reason that keeps him hooked to the sport. “You get a lot of respect, especially from people in villages who follow kushti. Once when I was in Barmer in Rajasthan, I couldn’t sleep because people kept visiting me. Eventually I had to latch the door to get some rest,” he laughs.
There have been setbacks too. Jeetu has had surgeries to repair ligaments on both his knees. “They tore when my feet got stuck in the mud when I was throwing opponents. The joke goes that my knees are made of plastic now,” he smiles.
Jeetu complains about the “lack of government support” for the sport. “Kushti is only seen as a popular village sport. The government doesn’t assist us in any way and the wrestling federation too doesn’t back mitti kushti,” he rues.
That is another reason why Jeetu is working on a back-up plan. The next day, he is driving to Kurukshetra in Haryana to participate in the ongoing recruitment for placement in the Haryana Police. “I can’t apply through the sports quota because mitti kushti doesn’t have any kind of paperwork,” says Jeetu. This means that for all his prowess, Jeetu will be competing in the general category where he will run a 5-km race and puff his bargelike chest out even further in order to meet the physical standards for the post of constable.
Around 7 pm, Jeetu begins cooling down. He takes time out to advice a boy on the correct technique to throw an opponent. “Cut his legs using your feet. Don’t just use your arms,” he says.
Despite looking for a government job, Jeetu says, he won’t turn his back on kushti. “I am still referred to as Guru Shyam Lal ka pota. I haven’t achieved anything close to what my grandfather did, but I have to take his legacy forward,” he signs off, heading home, still anxious about the next day’s trials.
