Judo Dabbling (Junior School Part 3)

We had a very old PT sir in our junior school. He was thin, tall and bald with white tufts of hair around his ears. There wasn't much to do with him around during PT periods. He would make us, as a class, play tame games of 'I sent a letter to my father' and the like.

He must have retired when our new PT teacher, a tall, thin young lady, with loads of enthusiasm, changed the physical activities of the school for good. Her name was Rajshree. She insisted that her name be pronounced correctly and not mistaken with the more common, Rajeshwari. This insistence was made on the microphone during the assembly at which she was introduced, and reiterated at the first few periods she had with each class.

With her arrival, was introduced a yoga period in our weekly time table, when we would spread our yoga mats on the ground, in lines, and attempt amidst laughter, to twist our unwieldy bodies into postures that Ma'am demonstrated with utmost ease on the stage. She was also the one who introduced us to the martial art Judo during the PT periods of class 4. A below average performer in all physical activities, I was surprised to find myself praised by her and put in the group of the better combatants.

We were made to perform the lessons learnt in judo - ogosi and osotogari - on our classmates, roll number-wise. So that made me stand against Deepali, who was much taller than I was, and looked stronger. In the struggle I overthrew her, at surprising speed. I was surprised, myself, about what had just happened. Ma'am promptly directed me to a group of selected students. But the fact was that, Deepali hadn't had time enough to compose herself and decide her stance, and she wasn't as strong as she appeared to be.

At the end of that class, Ma'am made this selected group stay behind, and asked us if we would like to take part in an inter-school judo competition. All the others nodded their agreement; I followed suit. When I told my parents that day that I'd been selected for a judo  tournament, they expressed their praise for me, though not well enough to hide their doubts about my physical prowess. During the days that led up to the tournament we were trained well by Rajshree Ma'am. At one of the practice sessions I was able to overthrow Aditi Singla, the strongest and heaviest judo player on our team. This boosted my confidence, and probably improved my performance.

One of the rules of the tournament was that no sharp object must be present on the player's body. This included ornaments. So my recently pierced ears were rid of the gold ear-rings, and were studded with boiled splinters of wood, broken off a broom.

It was a two-day tournament. On the day before the tournament, Ma'am announced that the sub-junior group would compete on day one, and the juniors on day two. Now, I was not sure which group I belonged to, nor the criterion for this categorization: whether it was age or bodyweight. I was too scared to ask Ma'am which group I was in, because everyone else knew. So I decided to go on the first day. I thought, if I belonged to sub junior, then I'll fight on day one; if I belonged to junior, I'll go again on day two.

Transportation from school to the venue of the competition was a problem. It was a government school far far away. Our school never provided transportation for interschool even participants. But it felt unfair at the time, strong champions out to win the school some glory couldn't even get decent conveyance. 

The father of one of our team-members had agreed to take our large group in his car. I don't remember how many arranged themselves, and in what manner, on the back seat. On the seat next to the driver's, four of us, including Rajshree Ma'am, adjusted ourselves in the most uncomfortable manner. I, being the one closest to the gear stick, had my right thigh assaulted with sharp jabs of pain, every time uncle shifted the gear.

When we finally reached the school, after a long and tiring ride, I discovered that I needn't have been there. I belonged to the Juniors' group, and should have come only on the next day. Rajshree Ma'am was definitely angry with me. She couldn't express all of it because she was kept by the proceedings necessary to register and have the candidates ready for their fight. Even if she had gone really mad at me, I had gone toughened up to bear the it, because I knew I deserved it.

All the participants of the tournament were given a steel bowl as a memento of the tournament. The participants were also given an ice cream each, which they were to collect from a room near the ground in queue. In order to ensure that no participant came for a second round, the ice cream suppliers were marking a cross on the white label stuck onto the inside of the steel bowl. But I did go for a second round, with a second bowl bearing a fresh label.

On the second day of the tournament, I was proudly showing off to my team members all that I knew about the place from my visit to it the previous day. My fight itself, was nondescript. I knew, the moment I saw my opponent, that I'm going to go down. And sure enough, it took that taller girl less than a minute to ground me. Judo gives an option to the vanquished, to tap on the mat, to indicate that they are in pain and that the referee should direct the vanquisher to remove oneself from the opponent's body. I was too proud to use that provision. I lay there, deciding against fighting off the girl, knowing full well that my futile efforts would only add to my pain. My only solace was the second free ice cream, in a flavour different from the first.