Faith and fitness have always found common ground in Varanasi. In its traditional ‘gymnasiums’ or kushti akharas along the ghats, wrestlers continue to practise millennia-old moves with single-minded devotion.
One of the oldest akharas in the city, the Tulsi akhara is believed to have been established over 5,000 years ago by poet Tulsidas. Encircled by a white boundary wall, its muddy rink still draws young men at the break of dawn to train under the tutelage of Siyaramji. But while the guru’s heart lies in this hallowed arena, he moonlights as an employee of an insurance company to make ends meet. Until he leaves for his job, however, it’s business as usual at the akhara.
The day starts with a prayer at the small Hanuman shrine, before warm-up begins in earnest with a range of kushti equipment. Young boys wear gar nals or stone rings that act as weights around their necks. Some finish a lap of cartwheels along the periphery. Yet others lift a mace (Hanuman’s gada), their eyebrows furrowed and temples glistening with beads of sweat. Before long everything dissolves into an impossible tangle of limbs on the soft mud, which reduces the impact of throws and manoeuvres perfected over the years. Hours later, the wrestlers disband, disappearing into the crowds and returning to the daily grind of life.
Supriya Sehgal is a Bangalore-based writer
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