This is actually my very first wrestling column. I had written it somewhere in September - October last year. I had put it up in my earlier blog, now I am re-posting it for you fine folks. Hope you enjoy it :-)
The First Time
I still remember that first time! What an awe-inspiring feeling it was! That would make anyone feel jump up and down whenever that sensation went through their nerves!
I want to clarify first that I do not remember the eventful night picture-perfect, and I may as well miss on a few facts or present absolute wrong facts. Despite all this, it is still one of the most memorable moments of my life.
Before going into the actual experience, I would like to give you a bit of insight into my humanly conditions – mental status, social status etc. So bear with me.
Life: it was changing
During that particular period of time, a lot of changes were taking place in my life.
I had moved to a new school. This fact, on face value, may not seem as a big deal. But there is more to it than just that. In my old school, I had friends that are my best buddies to this day. They were the backbone of my life. Together, we had shared moments that were going to be cherished for the rest of our lives. I was a so-called leader of the group (No, not the whole school, not the whole class, just 6 of us). The school had to close down due to some governance issues. Every one of us moved on to another school; except for me. I had to go to another another school (for lack of a better word), completely alone.
The new school wasn’t helping a bit. From being a leader in the previous school I had come to being a punch-bag in the new school. Every time the bell rang, I had to run out of the class, just to keep breathing.
I wasn’t quite into friendship with the other guys in my locality, as I didn’t share a common interest. They were all the fans of the game called Cricket, while I simply hated that game. Trust me; there is nothing worse than to not like a commonly liked sport. It simply eliminates you from the social life.
And at home, my brother had moved out of our house to earn a living for himself. He’s 5 years older to me. He’s very close to me. And at that age, it felt like I was being thrown into a hostel. This was emotionally straining.
I was an introvert by nature and all these events just increased the intensity of my introversion.
I needed new friends.
That fateful day
That fateful day, I was wandering through a place that is near my house and yet quite away from it. I always liked to wander through that area as it was an interesting colourful place, with lots of shops and other things. Wandering, I found a street that I had never previously been to. When I went in there, I felt it had a completely different vibe to it. Then I saw an assemblage of people witnessing something. That must be some ‘tamasha’ (Spectacle), I thought to myself. I decided to look up.
There were two guys in the middle of the crowd. They were much older than me but they were not old. One of them was having a beard and moustache while the other one was taller and had a long streak of hair on his face in both the sides. The taller one had more hair on his head as compared to the other even though he didn’t have any significant amount of hair to begin with.
They were simply looking at each other. Not speaking, not cursing, and just looking into the eyes of each other. This sight may not have amounted to anything for anyone else watching that. But it did, to me. So much so that I remember it picture-perfect even this day, a good 13-14 years after.
And even though I remember it picture-perfect, I still cannot fully explain what exactly the sight meant. The shorter guy (whom we will refer to as ‘Short Pants’ just for fun) was smiling, while the taller one (we will call him ‘Big Fellow’ because you know, he was the taller one) was more sceptical. However, that does not mean he was scared, he was just conscious of the other guy named Short Pants. And then there was this look on the face of Short Pants; that smile could have been as much near to a killing threat as it could be, yet it was not. There was a sense of competition between the two of them, and a sense of companionship. It was weird and amusing by the very meaning of the terms. And then there was this assemblage of people that were so interested in these two guys that they had left all their work and enjoying the confrontation-meeting between these guys. Then it struck me! They were the ‘Gundas’!!! (Goons/Thugs).
My elders had previously warned me about the presence of such thugs in this street/area. They were very notorious for engaging in tussles at any time and place. While I had never personally met any of them, I had heard about them and seen their posters depicting their physical attributes and other details by those who wanted to collect money in their name.
I had heard about this one goon whose very name meant ‘assassin’. There were a lot of stories spread about his nature. He would not only fight on random occasions, but would enjoy beating his adversary, literally playing with his body. He would always try to injure his enemy and more so his leg. Then there was this other guy, a very tall guy (taller than Big Fellow), who was not so famous for his clashes as much as he was for his evil spirit. It is said that he couldn’t speak. And that he did not need to, because everyone would get scared just by looking at him! These two were considered the 2nd and the 3rd ranked in the criminal-world; based on their notoriety. The top-most goon however, was considered to be a man of good spirits, a friend of friends, who would always stand up for what is right. It was rumoured that he strongly believed in God and requested all to do the same. I had never seen them fight or seen them, period.
These two currently in front of my eyes (they had left by the time) though, I had never heard of them nor seen posters of them. Yet somehow, I knew they were goons. I came to know from several passers-by that Short Pants and Big Fellow were going to meet again that night, at the same place. It was intriguing. I wanted to know what would happen between them or what they were up to. I decided to go home, finish up my home-work and food, and come back there in the night.
The Journey Begins
I did not tell about my plans to my parents as otherwise they would not have allowed me to go. I was ready to go after just over an hour. When I reached back there in the night, with a little curiosity and a little fear as to my safety, the mob had already gathered. And short while later, Short Pants and Big Fellow joined too. The information that I couldn’t gather in the first sight of theirs was that they were both actually going to fight! I didn’t get that. Sure there was some sort of competitive feelings between the two, but it never gave an impression of being animosity. In fact, there seemed to be a genuine feeling of friendship – likeability between them.
They started to brawl. And just few minutes into it, I felt that they were not giving their full into the fight. It almost felt like they were being forced to fight each other and not doing it by their own choice. In the middle of the fight, a few other people had also joined. They were standing closer to both the goons than everyone else. There were about three to four of them. One of them was different than others. If truth be told, he was different than anyone or anything I had seen in my whole life (And one another person along with him was also different, he would keep moving his head, so fast and violently, it actually created a pain in MY neck. I had not seen anyone or anything like that either, in my whole life). He was a monster in every sense of the word; a giant, no, A Giant. He was scary. I had seen in my class one student who had similar physical attributes, but this guy was a whole different level. 10 times what my class-mate was. I wondered what their purpose was.
It became clear after only a few minutes of their being there. They joined the fight. They started beating both Short Pants and Big Fellow. The Giant was so huge and fat, Big Fellow would voluntarily surrender his name, if he knew he was being called ‘Big Fellow’ in the first place. And then......the Giant jumped on a fallen Big Fellow. That Was Devastating. There was a sudden surge of fear, anxiety and rage flowing through my veins. I was worried about the Big Fellow and I wanted to tear apart the Giant for committing such an act of brutality. Sure the two goons fighting might have had a fair share of crimes of their own, but I somehow liked them. The Giant gang were beating on the two goons but shortly afterwards Big Fellow and Short Pants turned the tide and started beating the Giant gang. And in no time, did the Giant gang run away after just a bit of beating, the chickens. And when they ran away the whole crowd went nuts and cheered on both Short Pants and Big Fellow. That feeling was enormous. It almost passed the current-waves of electricity through my arms and head.
I needed new friends. I didn't find new friends. Instead, I found my heroes; or anti-heroes, for that matter.
Figure 1 Short Pants > He is smiling, isn’t he? Big Fellow, more angry than sceptical
Figure 2 The Giant
What did you think of this column?
A 6-year old could have written better? Or is it worth a Nobel Prize on Literature? You did not see any connection between this and wrestling? Tell me your view of anything in between for this column in the comments below.
Thanks for reading.
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