Return of Vinesh Phogat

AFTER euphoria, it is said, there is a void. Despair is never too far away from ecstasy. Life alternates between the two extremes, rarely allowing a stable moment to let one breathe in contentment. A peaceful equipoise, where there is no beginning and no end, is not meant for us mortals. For those who chase greatness in a world that rewards excellence, sporting or otherwise, life is a never-ending dream whose goal is to achieve that one moment of “perfection” which is enough to sustain an entire existence.

These esoteric thoughts swirl through my mind whenever athletes, having achieved much in their career, want to make a comeback and tread that path, strewn with roses and thorns, one more time. This desire could have to do with multiple reasons. Are they now missing the spotlight that kept them in the gaze of public adulation? They may want to bring a positive resolution to a career which may have ended with unfulfilled dreams. Or they may be simply missing the process, the rhythm and pulse of a daily routine that has sustained much of their youth that was bursting with energy and passion.

These questions are bound to surface when an iconic athlete, now leading the life of a politician, decides to re-embrace the sport she dominated with her skill and strength. At 32 years of age, Vinesh Phogat is a celebrated wrestler, admired for the courage and resolve with which she has faced the slings and arrows of the establishment. She has fought with dexterity on the mat to win many medals for the nation and off it has battled the nepotistic, lecherous wrestling officialdom with a tigerish resolve to shame the system. Her Paris Olympic saga in 2024 played out to the world like a heart-rending, tragic tale that would even outdo the most sophisticated melodrama that any cinema has produced. Her rollercoaster Olympic ride after having protested on the streets of Delhi, accusing the then president of the Wrestling Federation of India, former BJP MP Brij Bhushan Singh, of sexual abuse and harassment, is the stuff on which folklore thrives.

She and many stalwarts of the wrestling fraternity faced police lathis and went on a hunger strike to seek justice that was never delivered. It is a shame that India will never be able to rid itself of. The only Indian woman wrestler to have won gold medals at the Commonwealth and Asian Games, along with bronze medals in the World Championship, had to face the wrath of the establishment to an unprecedented level that it almost brought a premature end to her glorious sporting career.  Those in power did not reckon with a mind made of steel and a heart full of courage that made her brave enough not to retreat or surrender.

Against all odds, she trained herself once again and in her opening round of the 53kg freestyle Paris Olympic bout, stunned the wrestling fraternity by defeating the invincible Japanese Yui Susaki, who was undefeated in 82 consecutive bouts before that. She marched onward to the finals. India awaited a gold with bated breath, only to get choked on the news that she had been disqualified for having been found overweight by a mere 100 grams. The golden dream had turned into a nightmare. Her world came crashing down. Her spirit had finally been broken.  She decided to quit and jump ship.

Politics was her next pit spot. In the cesspool of electoral battles, Vinesh became a legislator in Haryana, known as much for sporting achievements as for its patriarchy, khap panchayats and a feudal mindset that dominates much of Indian society and its hinterlands.

When she returned from Paris, undefeated but medal-less, she was taken in a cavalcade from the Delhi airport to her home in Balali village. A three-hour journey took almost 12 hours, as she was felicitated on the way by various akharas and khaps. Hundreds of young men and turban-wearing elders showered her with money, love and respect on a stage that was at a walking distance from her house in the village.

In this male-dominated felicitation ceremony, there were a few women as well. In sharp contrast to Vinesh’s western style hair cut were saree-wearing women, with their heads covered and a few even peeping from behind their goonghats (veil) in awe and admiration for the  space she had created for the growth and choices of their own daughters.

Vinesh last month wrote a touching, inspiring note to her country folks while announcing her return to the mat and her resolve to compete in the 2028 Los Angeles Olympics. “I took time to understand the weight of my journey… somewhere in that reflection I found the truth…I still love the sport. I still want to compete… the fire never left me. It was only buried under exhaustion and noise… So here I am, stepping back toward LA28 with a heart that is unafraid and a spirit that refuses to bow…”

The Wrestling Federation of India is still controlled by the loyalists of Brij Bhushan Singh. He may have read the news with some trepidation. Vinesh is no meek and submissive woman. She is the symbol of an India that can fight on the mat and off it challenge the deeply-entrenched patriarchal mindset and those predators the system is protecting.