In January, Anuj Jacob quit his research analyst job in Bengaluru, packed his bags, and moved across the country to Noida to become an entertainment wrestler. A windowless room with dim lights and jet-black walls in a Noida academy now holds his future. Anuj is among the many Indians drawn to the brawn, charisma and hi-octane world of professional wrestling. Though India has produced The Great Khali, Mahabali Shera, and Kavita Devi, facilities to groom new talent are inadequate.
Despite the fame and fortune associated with entertainment wrestling, it’s frustrating for people like Jacob to get a toehold in the industry because sport wrestling is limited to people consuming it on their big screens at home.
His options are limited to a few former pro-wrestlers who train students in dubious-looking academies with basic infrastructure. With only a handful of trainers, 21-year-old Jacob’s dreams are at best a backup option.
In North India, three wrestling ‘academies’ — one each in UP’s Noida and Banda, and one in Jalandhar, Punjab — are the top choices. Jacob chose to enroll in Jeet Wrestle Square in Noida. It’s on the top floor of a building, bang in the middle of a crowded market in Sector 51. A black curtain divides the room into two, but it’s the ring that dominates the space.
It’s a far cry from the bright lights of the pro-wrestling industry, which is dominated by World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE), the US-based entertainment company that hauled in nearly $1 billion in annual revenue last year. And India is one of its largest markets with 335 million unique television viewers. Given its widespread appeal in the country, WWE also aired an India-centric show, WWW Superstar Spectacle in 2021.
Vinayak Sodhi, director of Jeet Wrestle Square, knows it’s more than just strength and brute force that defines the popularity of the game.
“A pro entertainment wrestler needs to have more qualities than just physique,” he says. This is entertainment, after all.
“Drama, public speaking are only some of the things one needs to learn to be a professional wrestler. It is about developing a whole persona. They are like superstars when they set foot in the ring” says Sodhi, who established Jeet Wrestle Square in 2018.
He’s partnered with WWE wrestler Satender Dagar, who went by the name Jeet Rama, to train students. For the privilege of training under Dagar in the windowless room for around three hours a day, Jacob has shelled out Rs 70,000 for one year. It will take him at least a year or two before he’s ready for WWE.
Growing up watching WWE star John Cena on television or cruising by roads noticing his posters near gyms or hair salons, represents the desire for some Indians to touch and feel closer to that stardom. But India has yet to find an ecosystem for its own wrestling stars.
“I love the sport, and I can’t leave it now. I have been training for three years now and can’t do anything else anymore,” says Rudra Rahul Kushwaha, a wrestler who trains at The Great Khali’s Continental Wrestling Entertainment in Punjab.
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The ivy league of wrestling
The biggest inspiration for every generation of aspiring professional wrestlers is The Great Khali or Dalip Singh Rana. He was the first Indian to win the coveted WWE World Heavyweight Champion belt. Continental Wrestling Entertainment (CWE) in Punjab’s Jalandhar, which he set up in 2015, charges an annual fees as high as Rs 1 lakh. It’s the ivy league of wrestling academies in India, and has built a strong media presence. CWE has often gone viral for its various performative wrestling videos. One video that they are very well known for is of Shanky Singh, their top wrestler — chokeslamming Pandey, the character of a police constable. The scene is not set in a wrestling ring, but in the middle of a market as they two quarrel and wrestle.
CWE’s Gurvinder Singh Malhotra or Shanky Singh, who made it to WWE in 2020, wows audiences with his spunk, his long hair and an all-black outfit in the ring. But not everyone is Shanky. The rest train for years even though they have no hope for any promising financial returns from learning the sport.
Kushwaha toils and trains every day for six hours, kicking and slamming his opponents in his signature khaki pants. He’s a perfectionist. “I don’t care if it takes another ten years, I have hurt myself too much physically to give up and am eagerly waiting for the next WWE tryouts, whenever they happen,” he says. The last WWE tryouts were held in India in 2019.
A selection will strengthen Kushwaha’s social media presence, which is part of the WWE allure.
“Even on Youtube, Beyond Wrestling, 3.5 million subscribers are mostly Indians, with roughly 80 per cent Indians watching their videos regularly,” said Tokyo-based Indian pro wrestler Ankur Baliyan, who goes by the ring name Baliyan Akki. Beyond Wrestling is a wresting promotion based in the US.
“Wrestling is good entertainment and people find it aspirational to watch it on the screen. But it is not monetizable as Indians are not the kind of people who buy a ticket to watch a live match. That is our biggest problem,” he adds.
CWE also spawned a popular wrestling ‘academy’ in Uttar Pradesh. One of Khali’s former students, Laxmi Kant Rajput, who goes by his ring name Guru Raaj, the first India-born high-flyer in WWE, too started his own academy, Rising Wrestling Entertainment (RWE) in his hometown, Banda in 2018.
It’s probably this attitude towards this kind of wrestling is why enrollment in these training centres hasn’t picked up as much over the years in keeping with WWE’s popularity. Jeet Wrestle Square currently trains students from across the country, including pro-wrestling aspirants from Bangladesh. CWE too invites students from around the country, yet they both only have around 50 students each. In the last WWE tryouts in India during 2019, Jeet Wrestle Square saw four selections into WWE, while CWE saw three, according to a Sachin Malik, a trainer at Jeet Wrestle Square.
“Not many students join or can even stay for more than a year. But I have faith that more people will recognise this sport. Just like kabaddi or football,” says CWE’s Kushwaha.
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Not a failsafe
Jeet Wrestle Square’s Vinayak Sodhi laboured hard for years to find investments for promotion, when he started out in 2015.
“It was never about the money for me, it was always about passion. Why is it that someone as popular as The Great Khali trained in the US and not in India? We wanted to help other enthusiasts like ourselves to build an industry around this art,” he says.
It’s not just lack of support from viewers but dearth of exposure to wrestling training from a young age that makes training for WWE a long and arduous journey with no guaranteed returns.
Kicking a ball around the playground, playing Kho-Kho and cricket are well-respected activities in schools. But wrestling never saw that kind of reception.
“India lacks good athletes because they are not taught it from a young age, especially in the cities. Which makes it difficult to coach these students too. What students abroad can learn in 3-4 months is something Indians can take 1-3 years to master,” says Sodhi.
Taking up wrestling as a primary profession becomes even more difficult when there is no reputation or income accompanying being a wrestler, at least in local circuits. It only creates a radial, internal system where former wrestlers with international experience return to the homeland and train small groups.
“I was unsatisfied with my training at CWE before I went to WWE,” says Guru Raaj. It’s why he decided to set up his own training centre. Even though he became a WWE superstar with his trademark shoulder-length hair, every present grin and impossible moves, his training, he insists, could have been better.
“I didn’t receive the platform I had hoped to get in India when I first started out. Income too is a distant dream, and even at my academy now, we barely get any sponsors,” he says.
Baliyan Akki, who grew up in Muzaffarnagar, left India to find the best training for himself as a wrestler. Today, he has fans from all over the world. When he started getting into this world in 2015, he was sure he could not find the right resources to build himself, even though he had been working with Vinayak Sodhi to start Jeet Wrestle Square.
“As a culture, we do not support things that are growing. Our setback as a country is that we don’t like underdogs, and only care for them when they become superstars,” says Akki.
Most pro-wrestling aspirants can’t afford to leave the country to train. To keep their dream alive, they continue their jobs while treating wrestling as a side-hobby. Jacob, too, is hunting for a job—one that will allow him to spend his mornings at Jeet Wrestle Square.
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Judgement and bias
The glitz and glamour of WWE that Indians fell so hard for, becomes invalidated when budding Indian wrestlers try to carve their space. When they approach malls or other institutions to host their elaborate matches, they get turned away.
“Many times, we try to get people to watch our shows, but they compare us with WWE and when they realise we are not as good as them, they think we are useless,” says Guru Raaj.
Pro-wrestlers are all brawn, no brain and fuelled by their love for violence. Sachin Malik, a trainer at Jeet Wrestle Square says that their wrestlers are scorned by those who don’t keep up with WWE. Even event organisers are worried they “will hit the public”.
Guru Raaj wants to change this perception by holding more local pro-wrestling events, and encouraging women to take up the sport. Having returned from WWE in 2022, his days are spent training 15 wrestlers at Rising Wrestling Entertainment (RWE).
The ‘academy’ is a small complex outside the city, with a gym, ring and a lawn. It often hosts local tournaments. Under bright red and purple lights, wrestlers walk into the enclosure during their live shows, while children from the town cheer them on.
It’s what inspired Kajal Rajpoot to take up professional wrestling.
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Inspiring young women
RWE currently trains four women—all for free, and Rajpoot is one of the youngest. She’s chosen the ring name K.D. Kajal. Men pay Rs 6,000 a month.
“I want to give women an incentive to get into the sport,” says Guru Raaj.
When she’s not in school, Rajpoot is at RWE. She’s inspired by American wrestler Ronda Rousey, and WWE is her destination.
“I’m relieved that my parents support my dream. I want to become a full-time wrestler when I graduate,” she says.
At one of her shows, K.D. Kajal’s opponent Attitude Girl walks into the room like she owns it and does a twirl when she enters the ring. Kajal follows after her in her bright red shirt, high-fiving all the spectators before the two face off. Tumbling across the floor and even picking up her opponent and slamming her at one point, the 15-year-old impresses her fans.
“I grew up watching WWE on my phone and I know a lot of other girls in my school as well who want to become wrestlers, after seeing Guru Raaj sir’s journey,” says Kajal. “But people tell us that we should not be so violent.”
She, Akki, Jacob and the others are convinced that pro-wrestling in India is still in its early stages, that it will only grow and grow. They are its flag bearers.
“I give it 10 years. I think India will one day become the best place for wrestling in the world,” says Akki.
(Edited by Anurag Chaubey)