Before sports like football and cricket made inroads in Kerala, what kept many entertained in the state was a traditional form of wrestling called gatta gusthi. In Fort Kochi, one of the epicentres of this sport, arenas or godhas set up on the sandy beaches attracted large crowds until only a few years ago. “It was the main game, the only one in the olden days,” says M M Salim, secretary of the Kerala Indian Style Wrestling Association (KISWA).
“Though gatta gusthi did not enjoy the same patronage of kings here as it did elsewhere in north India, the sport was indeed very popular. Especially among the workers of the Cochin Port and traders in the area,” adds Salim.
The sport was so popular that wrestlers (phayalvans) from across Kerala came to compete here. “Those days, even wrestlers who lost the bouts made considerable money. To shake hands with a phayalvan was a big deal back then,” says Salim, who is known in wrestling circles as the ‘Flying Referee’.
As other sports gained prominence, gatta gusthi’s popularity waned. Yet, the tradition survives, thanks in part to the efforts of the KISWA, which was founded in 1986 by former-champion-turned coach T J George aka Minnal George.
Salim’s own training in gatta gusthi began in the early 1970s, the twilight years of the sport. “There was an officer who trained young Navy men in the sport at the Kochi base: Lal Bahadur Yadav ‘Ashaan’,” he recalls.
“I used to cycle long distances to watch them train. Later, when my presence at the arena was as ubiquitous as Ashaan’s, I began receiving lessons from him.”
For the past four decades, Salim has been coaching young generations at Cochin Gymnasium in Mattancherry, and on the beach. “In the past 20 years, there were very few takers for gatta gusthi. That’s changing,” he beams.
“There was a spike in interest following films like Dangal (2016) and India’s stellar performance in the sport at the Olympics. Now, we train a lot of girls as well,” Salim says.
The uptick in the number of girls, he says, is likely inspired by Kochu Raani, a female wrestler who ruled the arena in the past, and figures like Sakshi Malik and Vinesh Phogat.
The structure of the competition is now formalised, with clear categories based on body weight. “In the old days, that was not the case. Sometimes phayalvans battled opponents twice their size. Also, unlike before, it is not crowd fervour that decides the outcome of matches, but points and time,” Salim notes.
This has helped boost the sport, especially among students. “They get grace marks, and certificates help with admissions,” he smiles.
“Moreover, like any physical sport, the training regimen is good for your health. The flexibility that your body attains is unmatched. You also grow less susceptible to knocks.”
Recently, district-level competitions were held with a fanfare unseen in recent years. The first and second place winners from each class were picked for the state-level competition to be held on September 28 in Kottayam. “The winners from this competition will qualify for the nationals, which will be held in Maharashtra next month,” Salim says.
Events like Cochin Carnival do keep the sport visible by arranging matches on the beach, and this does attract a good number of foreigners. But Salim says the true potential of the sport remains untapped.
Despite the sport being an integral cultural element of Kochi, it is yet to receive due recognition. Even government support has shrunk drastically in recent years. “As is customary, we hold our matches and training on Fort Kochi beach. But as you know, only a section of the beach now remains. And that is often littered with junk,” Salim shrugs, dejected by the official indifference.
“Still, we do what we can. We hold small tournaments regularly to ensure that this sport, which has a long legacy in Fort Kochi, does not just simply vanish. “Gatta gusthi is our tradition. The spirit is alive, even if quieter than before.”