No victims, only survivors: My journey in martial arts

I was first introduced to Taekwondo at the age of 5, in the city of my birth— Calcutta. The environment of my training could not have been more different than how children are taught today— in gyms, on mats, in schools or at their home. Our first martial arts ‘school’ used to operate as a pub at night and we were allowed to use the hall from 6 to 9 in the mornings.  I can distinctly remember my first day. The smell of booze hung in the air and all of us ran around clearing the floor off chairs and tables so we could start practice. My brother, who was all of four years old, and I started on this journey together, following instructions and falling in line, excited and nervous, with no idea of what to expect.

None of our friends or relatives were into martial arts. In fact, I think my poor mother had to battle nearly everyone in our extended family and face the ridicule of many in her social circle because I, a girl, was being taught martial arts. It wasn’t really a choice for us between brother and sister as to who would be exposed to the pain, rigorous hardwork and insanely early mornings. It is important to clarify that unlike many parents I see now, my mother never intended for us to take this up as a sport or to add it as a tick on the college application checklist. Her only concern was that we were equipped with the best self-defence training that would stand us in good stead against any real life dangers we may face.

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It did not get easier as we got older and more entrenched in the training. In the first place, I was the only girl in training for years till some of the Darjeeling folk started getting interested. By then I was nearly 11 years old and on the verge of my first black belt. It was kind of funny because I found it too hard to hit the girls, having gotten used to sparring with boys, especially because the Darjeeling girls were so tiny and delicate-looking that I was afraid of hurting them! The poor things could barely kick above my waist (a technical requirement for competitions) and my mother was adamant that the teachers were not seen to be biased towards me (as their pet and the longest in training), so she wouldn’t allow the referees to disqualify them. This invariably resulted in me being carted off the arena with swollen thighs and calves. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper!

Some of the ways we trained would shock people now. We never had a permanent space for our ‘school’. So we went from one local club to another, whoever would give us permission to set up camp. The worst one was in a rather shady district on the a badminton court used by local goons as a drink-and-dump zone late at night, so there was broken glass everywhere. We trained in the late evenings there and would have to come home and soak our poor feet and extract small shards. We only stopped using the exalted facilities when one fine evening, in the midst of our practice, the two local rival gangs had a fight. One had sent a spy over to the other’s hangout and got caught. So there was a holy chase down the lane with swords and guns being brandished. All of us children were locked into the single club room by our teachers for our safety while they guarded us. Our car window was smashed by the thugs, I remember, and our driver Chaudhary luckily escaped serious injury because he was asleep on the other side.

Our teachers were gods to us. Balraj Singh Khehra was an international gold medallist and the finest, most demanding yet fair guru you could ever hope to have for your children.  We are in touch even today and my parents still support Taekwondo by being an integral part of the Bengal Taekwondo Association, which today has over 2000 students. To give you a flavour of the kind of people our teachers were, I’d have to recount the true story of how they took on scores of goons when travelling by train from Calcutta to Lucknow for a tournament. They were attacked in retaliation for stopping one of the guys from molesting a girl on the train. At the next stop, these morons did not know what hit them when five of our best black belt instructors gave them a thrashing of a lifetime, even though they were outnumbered easily ten to one.

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I have so many stories like this, I should probably write a book one day. I could tell you about the time I punched an attacker in Dublin at the age of 19 when he grabbed my hand and I broke his tooth. But life has come more than full circle now as I launched PACE, a unique model that teaches people of all genders, ages and backgrounds a simple way of building personal safety awareness into a habit. It distills all my years as a black belt practitioner, trainer and referee and as the first and youngest female referee in the Indian National Games in Imphal. Even before we went live last month, I had tested the model out with over 6000 people from ages 5 to 85 in four cities, at schools, colleges, churches, companies and industry associations. Encouragement from visionary people like Alok Bajpai, Global CFO of CSS Corp and Shraddha Agarwal from YFLO was a huge support along the way. Today, together with Priyanka Pai, CEO of PACE and an experienced martial artist herself (and 8 years of Kalaripayattu!), I am building a social impact venture that aims to truly empower our communities with simple and effective techniques to build an inclusive, safer ecosystem for all.

Just a couple of weeks ago, a dear younger friend of mine called me to tell me how she took on a senior lawyer in the court where she works, who had behaved inappropriately with her. Like most other girls, she first felt overwhelmed by the trauma of the event but on reflection, her courage and smartness came to the fore and she took control by formally complaining to the president of the Bar in her region. She confronted the man, brought forward other girls that he had outraged and ensured that he was penalised. Her statement to me, ‘Didi, you will be proud of me’ as she recounted her horror means more to me than I can say. It is time our people, men and women and transgenders, saw themselves as powerful beings that are not easy prey for anyone and where there are no victims, only survivors. To be part of the change in this nation of ours is my greatest dream come true. As the inspirational Bruce Lee once said: “To hell with circumstances, I create opportunities.”

The author is a Chartered Accountant and Chartered Tax Associate and founder of PACE and WoW Kitty. She has several years experience in working with organisations in the profit and not-for-profit sector. A trained martial artist, she is passionate about the empowerment, education and safety of women and children.​