Every village of importance has its annual wrestling day, to which
people come from many miles round. Prizes are given from a fund
subscribed by the villagers. It is a point of honour that no one
competes in his own village, so that all the prizes may go to
outsiders. The wrestling is conducted with much decorum, in accordance
with exact and well-recognised rules. The decision of the referee
appears to be nearly always accepted without dispute; or if ever there
is a difference of opinion, the arbitration of one or two of the
elders amongst the villagers is generally sufficient. If arbitration
fails, a free fight is the only way of settling the matter; but such
incidents are rare.
The prize is generally a turban, and however many turbans a man
already possesses he likes to add to their number. Sometimes there is
a good deal of very audible grumbling if the quality of the turban is
thought to be defective. Now and then important contests between
champions in the world of wrestlers are held in cities like Poona, and
there is a charge for admission, and the prizes are of value, gold and
silver rings and sums of money. Wrestlers train carefully when they
are preparing for a contest, according to their own ideas of training,
and they drink a great deal of milk. The best side of Indian village
life is to be found in this sport, and as it is one of the few things
which is not tainted by idolatry, I could always accept with pleasure
an invitation to the gymnasium, or to be present on the annual sports
day.
[Illustration: THE YERANDAWANA VILLAGE WRESTLERS OPPOSITE THEIR
GYMNASIUM.]
In our village little dinner-parties take place in the houses (or,
rather, outside the houses) of the principal farmers, the evening
before the annual wrestling competition. Feasts are nearly always
held in the open air, partly because most of the houses are so small
that there is not room inside to seat the guests; and also because
low-caste people, who would not be allowed to come indoors, can be fed
in the open so long as they sit a little apart from the rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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