Wrestling with the odds to earn four gold medals
Wrestler Virender Singh overcame state apathy and disability to bring laurels for the country
NEWDELHI: 2017 Gold, Samsun, Turkey 2016 Gold, Tehran, Iran 2013 Gold, Sofia, Bulgaria 2012 Bronze, Sofia, Bulgaria 2009 Bronze, Taipei, Taiwan 2008 Silver, Yerevan, Armenia 2005 Gold, Melbourne, Australia One of India’s most accomplished wrestlers makes ₹28,000 per month as a junior coach. He has won seven international medals, including four golds. But he cannot afford a house or a car.
He shares a bare, cramped room with four single beds, a wire to hang clothes, a wooden shelf with shoes and a big led ge for his trophies. The room is inside a small akhada next to a noisy railway line in the heart of Delhi’s Sadar bazaar.
Meet Virender Singh, 32, popularly known as Goonga Pehelwan. He can’t hear or speak.
Virender has wrestled not only opponents but also with odds through meticulous rigour, personal sacrifice and tremendous talent. But his remarkable story is also an indictment of state apathy and sporting federations.
Short and stocky, Virender is smiling as he talks in sign language, even while describing his travails.
“Main sun nahi sakta, na bol sakta hoon, par iska yeh matlab nahi ki meri koi sunvayi hi na ho. (I can’t hear or speak. But that should not mean that my story should not be
heard),” the wrestler says .
Born in Jhajjar district’s Sasroli village, Virender never went to school because of his impairment.
At the age of 10, his father Ajay Singh, a wrestler who worked for the Central Industrial Security Force, admitted Virender to a school for the hearing and speech impaired. At the same time, the young boy also started training under his father and uncle.
Waking up before the crack of dawn followed by a punishing 8-hour workout schedule, no vices and a single-minded focus has been Virender’s life ever since. He won his first gold at the 2005 Deaflympics in Australia, where he had to spend ₹70,000 out of his own pocket.
At that time, there was no government provision for cash awards for differently abled sports stars.
Through these years, Virender had to resort to participating in village dangals to support himself. A win would get him between ₹5,000-₹20,000. It meant frequent travels to far-off villages in Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, Rajasthan and Punjab, on buses and trains.
Virender signals, “If I could speak, I would have fought for the rights of sportspeople like me.”
In 2013, three young filmmakers produced a documentary on him. It won wide acclaim and helped bring muchneeded attention on him. Finally, as late as 2015, the sports policy was amended to make differently abled winners eligible for cash prizes.
In 2016, Virender was awarded the Arjuna Award, one of India’s highest sporting honours.
“Still, most people in the country don’t know me,” he rues. He has just returned triumphant from another Deaflympics in Turkey, where he won gold. India won four medals — its bestever performance.
But the contingent returned home to ignominy. No one from the sports federation was at the airport to receive them. Virender shakes his head signalling, “I raised India’s prestige internationally with my win but here no one cares.” But heartbreak has always co-existed with hope in his story. “Whether someone watches or not, I have done my work.”