COIMBATORE: Tamil Nadu’s dense forests, where the scent of teak and sandalwood fills the air, a group of forest guards wage a relentless war. Their battleground? Not just against nature—wildfire, poachers, and rogue elephants—but also on the dirty kabaddi arenas across the country.
These unsung heroes, who protect Tamil Nadu’s wilderness, are equally fierce on the kabaddi field, where every match feels like a fight for survival.
In Tamil cinema, kabaddi has been immortalised by films like Ghilli and Vennila Kabadi Kuzhu. But beyond the silver screen, the real-life champions lie within the Tamil Nadu Forest department. By day, they safeguard the forests, and by night, they become warriors on the kabaddi field. For them, it is more than a game—it’s a battle, an extension of their duty.
At the centre of this team is R Arun Kumar, their captain and the officer of the Madukkarai forest range. A man who commands both respect and silence, he leads his team with precision. “Every raid is like chasing a rogue elephant—if you lose focus for even a second, the consequences can be fatal,” he says, his eyes intense, reflecting the weight of experience.
The Tamil Nadu Forest department kabaddi team isn’t just a collection of players; it is a brotherhood forged in sweat, discipline, and determination. GU Jothir Lingam, a forester from the Karadimadai forest section, dreams of playing in the Pro Kabaddi League.
But his journey has been one of heartbreak and resilience. “I was selected to train with the Pink Panthers, but an injury took that dream away,” he says, his voice heavy with emotion. “But I’ll be back, and I’ll make it.” His fire, undiminished, burns alongside the passion of his teammates.
The rest of the team stands tall, each member a pillar of strength. R Rajasekaran, a forest guard known for his unwavering resolve, recalls a gruelling kabaddi match that ended with him racing through the Nilgiris forest to chase down poachers. “My muscles screamed from the game, but when you hear a poacher’s gunshot, you forget your exhaustion. It was like chasing a raider—but in the forest, it’s life or death.”
The team is a mix of seasoned veterans and rising stars: V Radhakrishnan, T Subramanian, S Srinivasan, and C Vijaya Kumar, all forest guards, have stood side by side with their captain in countless battles—both on the court and in the wild. S Ramkumar, G Palpandi, and Ravikumar, a forester, round out this formidable team, adding strength, speed, and an unshakable commitment to their cause. Together, these men have become a force to be reckoned with.
At the Tamil Nadu Forest Academy (TNFA) grounds, the team is laser-focused, their training session echoing with the sound of pounding feet and sharp breaths. Every drill, every raid, is treated as if the championship is at stake. As the sun dips below the horizon, the men collapse to the ground, exhausted but driven. “We don’t just play for ourselves,” Arun Kumar reminds them. “We play for the forests we protect.”
Their victories aren’t confined to internal tournaments. The team has dominated 10 open kabaddi competitions across Tamil Nadu. The roar of the crowd, the clash of bodies, and the thunder of feet have become familiar sounds, but after the final whistle blows, they return to their day jobs, silently safeguarding Tamil Nadu’s forests.
But their real training happens deep in the wilderness. One night, Arun Kumar and his team were called to Madukkarai after a herd of elephants threatened a nearby village.
The ground trembled beneath the animals’ footsteps, and the villagers, filled with panic, fled. But Arun Kumar’s team, despite their exhaustion from a day of patrol, sprinted into the undergrowth, diverting the elephants away from the houses.
“It felt like chasing a raider on the kabaddi court,” Arun Kumar recalls, his voice tinged with adrenaline. “One wrong move, and we could’ve been trampled.”
Among the team, GU Jothir Lingam still harbours dreams of professional kabaddi. After being sidelined by injury, his desire to make his parents proud only grows stronger. His journey, like the rest of his team’s, is one of resilience, where the line between victory and defeat is as fine as the line between life and death in the forest.
Senior officials have rallied behind them, offering gear and giving them the time they need to train. The announcement by former Forest Minister M Mathiventhan to increase cash rewards for gold medal winners to `20,000 has only stoked their fire. “We didn’t ask for much—just time to train and shoes that wouldn’t fall apart mid-game,” Arun Kumar says with a smile. “But the support has been overwhelming.”
As the national competition looms in October, the team—led by Arun Kumar and filled with men like S Ramkumar and G Palpandi—prepares for their toughest battle yet.
They’ve faced poachers, wild elephants, and nature’s fury, but the kabaddi field presents its own set of challenges. The stakes are as high as ever. Each man knows that victory on the court is more than just a personal achievement—it’s a testament to their resolve, their teamwork, and the passion they share for both their sport and their duty to protect the forests.
In this arena, there is no elephant or gunshot, but the tension is no less real. Victory, like the forests they guard, must be fought for—day in, day out.
(Edited by Dinesh Jefferson E)