Gripping reality of Indian wrestling on display at Bengaluru’s Museum of Art and Photography

Grip, Hold, Pin beckons visitors to take a peek into the world of Indian wrestling

Updated - August 28, 2026 08:18 pm IST

From Grip Hold Pin at MAP Bengaluru

For most of us, wrestling is a spectator sport — all of the action and adrenalin minus the sweat, toil and heartbreak. Grip, Hold, Pin is an exhibition currently underway at the Museum of Art and Photography offering a glimpse into the gritty reality of Indian wrestling.

Curated by Aayati Sengupta, it features photographs by Indrajit Khambe and Prarthna Singh as well as paintings, textile labels and traditional training equipment, such as clubs and weights are a part of the space too.

According to Aayati, the title of the exhibition is not only sporting jargon, but is also a nod to attempts by visual artists to pin down a fleeting moment, preserving it for posterity.

Spanning the 19th and 21st century, Grip, Hold, Pin ushers in visitors with an akhara gate. “The akhara is an insular space, a space for the wrestler. So while it beckons, it also bars your entry,” says Aayati.

From Grip Hold Pin at MAP Bengaluru

Though Indian wrestlers lost royal patronage as kingdoms came under colonial rule, many such as Rammurthy Naidu (considered India’s Hercules), were courted by the British, while others joined travelling circuses of the time.

Indrajit Khambe says he began working on this series relating to the life of Indian wrestlers in 2012. “Between 2012 and 2018, I shot lot of pictures, but did not return to the akharas following the pandemic. When I began curating my work for this show, I realised that not only had I changed as a photographer, but also my understanding of photography had changed.”

He returned to Kolhapur to reshoot with his newfound perspective. “My earlier pictures were exotic; I wanted everyone to like those pictures. Now I react to the emotions and simple movements of my subjects.”

“In these works, I have left the "exotic” behind and tried to capture the rawness of their lives,” says Indrajit. “There are moments of defeat and tiredness, in some they are sweating after intense practice sessions. In others, wrestlers sit alone, thinking.”

“I have tried to capture that space where they have been raised and how they charge themselves with a new energy every day, despite defeats of the previous day.”

The life of a wrestler requires tremendous discipline and is one of hardship. Their day begins at 4am, preparing the pit for practice and ends past 7pm, leaving time for little else. “Every morning begins with the process of preparing the pit by loosening the soil, sprinkling water and adding turmeric and salt. Once a week, ghee and buttermilk is added to make the soil softer.”

The wrestlers are also required to be strictly celibate, keeping away from all women, with the exception of their mother and sisters.

It is a matter of pride for families to say a son is part of the local akhara, and it is not uncommon to see farmers scrape and save so a son can enroll. Once a wrestler gets married they cannot return to the akhara, but can continue with their practice at home. Many use their skill to start training centres.

According to Indrajit, though this sport has remained unchanged for over two centuries in terms of equipment and technique, Sakshi Malik’s bronze at the 2016 Olympics paved the way for more women to take up wrestling. “Today, in many villages girls are wrestling and are being mentored by men, sometimes at the same centres.”

He explains how mud wrestlers require a stocky frame, while those who spar on mats need to be leaner, both using their body types to hold their ground. “Many, especially in rural India, do not see a future in mat wrestling. Whereas, there are regular mud wrestling competitions in villages and the prize money serves as a source of income, helping sustain their life choice.”

While it seems to be a tough choice, Aayati says, “They go into it willingly, knowing full well all that it entails. Nobody imposes it on you.”

Indrajit says his series is not about the glory moments of the sport, but the preparation, feeling of community, periods of rest or separation and so much more. He believes his image of a mobile in a wrestler’s loincloth “is the best metaphor for tradition and the current situation” of the sport.

Prathna Singh who works with women-centric stories of empowerment, says she finds herself returning to spaces of female strength. “I consider these spaces to be sacred because a magical bond emerges between women,” says the photgrapher, whose previous work was a documentation of the Shaheen Bagh protests of 2020.