Kabaddi has two main rules. First that you repeatedly enunciate, in one breath, the word “kabaddi”. This rule is the cornerstone of the game. It is what makes the game Indian – no other culture being interested in mindless repetition and mantras.
In a popular and brilliantly executed skit from the 1980s, the stand-up comic Johnny Lever included a sketch mimicking filmstars playing the game. He deployed their exaggerated mannerisms so well, Shatrughan Sinha for instance going “KABODDY!… KABODDY!...”, that even those who only had access to the show’s audio cassette tape could enjoy it visually.
Pakistan appears to have done away with this recitation rule, as with every other rule of what you and I would consider kabaddi. I recently watched with alarm and horror and admiration what they have done to the sport. It is played one-on-one. Two large Punjabi males in skin-tight shorts slapping one another with both hands, till one of them has had enough and makes a break for it over a large and apparently unmarked field. The other fellow trying to stop him by flailing at him, always with open palms.
I cannot figure out the rules and sometimes the fellow I was sure had the better of the exchanges seems to have lost (going by the amount of money being passed onto him by spectators – there being no referees that one can spot). The action is described by an excited man on a megaphone who roars out a commentary in Punjabi – a language strangely appropriate to this sport. Given that the large males do not seem to be repeating “kabaddi”, or anything else, I wonder why they still refer to the sport by that name, and not, say, “thappad-bhaag” or something similarly appropriate.
Anyway, in the rules of Star Sports’s Pro Kabaddi, the repeated recitation is called the Cant.
Their first rule concerning players (see www.prokabaddi.com) is this:
“Cant: The repeated, without break; at a stretch and clear aloud sounding of the approved word ‘kabaddi’ within the course of one respiration shall be called ‘cant’.”
And another is “Losing the cant”, which tells us that, “To stop the repeated and clear aloud sounding of the word ‘kabaddi’ or take in a breath during cant by the raider is known as losing the cant. A cant must be continued within one and the same respiration.”
All right, then, awkwardly written, yes, but clear enough.
It is strange then, that on watching the inaugural match on Saturday, one could see no player actually mouth the cant. And certainly spectators and viewers on television could not hear it being mouthed. Has the rule been forsaken? It is unclear and watching the first two matches of Pro Kabaddi has not cleared this confusion. Instead there was something about a 30 second limit to the raids, on which more later. To watch kabaddi without “kabaddi-kabaddi-kabaddi” was unfamiliar and unsettling and unsatisfying.
The second rule of kabaddi is that the individual raider must cross (or was it touch?) a line in the opponent’s court and try and touch as many of them as he/she can before scurrying back.
This act of touching line and opponent is where all the scoring happens. Strange, again, that cameras were not positioned to capture this properly. The demonstration of scoring was not stressed on, if you understand what I mean, and few slow-motion replays of this were shown. The action was one continuous flow. This made it boring and unwatchable. After an hour of it, U Mumbai defeated Jaipur Pink Panthers, a contest whose most interesting aspect was the team names.
If this does not change, Star’s gamble of a kabaddi league will fail.
And the gamble has some serious people invested in it. Saturday’s spectators included the Bachchans (both the successful one and the flop), two Khans (Aamir and Shah Rukh – Salman also appearing in a promo spot), Sachin Tendulkar and wife, and other assorted grandees including Anand Mahindra and Tina Ambani. Some of them are team-owners and much, then, is at stake in the success of this league.
Your correspondent is not pleased to report that in the trenches, the action was almost unfathomable.
Someone won the toss. What did they decide? We didn't know. The commentators didn't know. Then the thing began. Mumbai’s captain Anup Kumar, a big fellow with a demented expression, was timed out on a 30-second rule. What is the rule? It wasn’t clear. Anup looked shocked. He was off to the “sitting blocks”. What are they and how does one get out? We don’t know.
A little later into the match, Anup, clearly an idiot, was again timed out, managing to appear at once demented and mildly surprised. Was this because players are given no visual or aural countdown of the 30-second rule, whatever it is? We don’t know. By now, however, you probably have gleaned what I mean in saying all this was unsatisfying and unfamiliar.
The commentator said that Anup “will have to learn it quickly”. If the captain hasn’t learnt, what chance for the poor spectator?
The only redeeming thing in the show was the celebrity interviews and the pleasure of watching the rich and famous stumble and say banal things, since they were not given elegant scripted lines.
All, except, of course, the mighty Amitabh Bachchan. No other human can get away with saying in the same sentence, as Big B did, both “Bhavya tariqe se ayojan kiya gaya hai” and “Really cool”.
I only wish the bhavya tariqe ka ayojan (this has been well-organised) thing were true.
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In a popular and brilliantly executed skit from the 1980s, the stand-up comic Johnny Lever included a sketch mimicking filmstars playing the game. He deployed their exaggerated mannerisms so well, Shatrughan Sinha for instance going “KABODDY!… KABODDY!...”, that even those who only had access to the show’s audio cassette tape could enjoy it visually.
Pakistan appears to have done away with this recitation rule, as with every other rule of what you and I would consider kabaddi. I recently watched with alarm and horror and admiration what they have done to the sport. It is played one-on-one. Two large Punjabi males in skin-tight shorts slapping one another with both hands, till one of them has had enough and makes a break for it over a large and apparently unmarked field. The other fellow trying to stop him by flailing at him, always with open palms.
I cannot figure out the rules and sometimes the fellow I was sure had the better of the exchanges seems to have lost (going by the amount of money being passed onto him by spectators – there being no referees that one can spot). The action is described by an excited man on a megaphone who roars out a commentary in Punjabi – a language strangely appropriate to this sport. Given that the large males do not seem to be repeating “kabaddi”, or anything else, I wonder why they still refer to the sport by that name, and not, say, “thappad-bhaag” or something similarly appropriate.
Anyway, in the rules of Star Sports’s Pro Kabaddi, the repeated recitation is called the Cant.
Their first rule concerning players (see www.prokabaddi.com) is this:
“Cant: The repeated, without break; at a stretch and clear aloud sounding of the approved word ‘kabaddi’ within the course of one respiration shall be called ‘cant’.”
And another is “Losing the cant”, which tells us that, “To stop the repeated and clear aloud sounding of the word ‘kabaddi’ or take in a breath during cant by the raider is known as losing the cant. A cant must be continued within one and the same respiration.”
All right, then, awkwardly written, yes, but clear enough.
It is strange then, that on watching the inaugural match on Saturday, one could see no player actually mouth the cant. And certainly spectators and viewers on television could not hear it being mouthed. Has the rule been forsaken? It is unclear and watching the first two matches of Pro Kabaddi has not cleared this confusion. Instead there was something about a 30 second limit to the raids, on which more later. To watch kabaddi without “kabaddi-kabaddi-kabaddi” was unfamiliar and unsettling and unsatisfying.
The second rule of kabaddi is that the individual raider must cross (or was it touch?) a line in the opponent’s court and try and touch as many of them as he/she can before scurrying back.
This act of touching line and opponent is where all the scoring happens. Strange, again, that cameras were not positioned to capture this properly. The demonstration of scoring was not stressed on, if you understand what I mean, and few slow-motion replays of this were shown. The action was one continuous flow. This made it boring and unwatchable. After an hour of it, U Mumbai defeated Jaipur Pink Panthers, a contest whose most interesting aspect was the team names.
If this does not change, Star’s gamble of a kabaddi league will fail.
And the gamble has some serious people invested in it. Saturday’s spectators included the Bachchans (both the successful one and the flop), two Khans (Aamir and Shah Rukh – Salman also appearing in a promo spot), Sachin Tendulkar and wife, and other assorted grandees including Anand Mahindra and Tina Ambani. Some of them are team-owners and much, then, is at stake in the success of this league.
Your correspondent is not pleased to report that in the trenches, the action was almost unfathomable.
Someone won the toss. What did they decide? We didn't know. The commentators didn't know. Then the thing began. Mumbai’s captain Anup Kumar, a big fellow with a demented expression, was timed out on a 30-second rule. What is the rule? It wasn’t clear. Anup looked shocked. He was off to the “sitting blocks”. What are they and how does one get out? We don’t know.
A little later into the match, Anup, clearly an idiot, was again timed out, managing to appear at once demented and mildly surprised. Was this because players are given no visual or aural countdown of the 30-second rule, whatever it is? We don’t know. By now, however, you probably have gleaned what I mean in saying all this was unsatisfying and unfamiliar.
The commentator said that Anup “will have to learn it quickly”. If the captain hasn’t learnt, what chance for the poor spectator?
The only redeeming thing in the show was the celebrity interviews and the pleasure of watching the rich and famous stumble and say banal things, since they were not given elegant scripted lines.
All, except, of course, the mighty Amitabh Bachchan. No other human can get away with saying in the same sentence, as Big B did, both “Bhavya tariqe se ayojan kiya gaya hai” and “Really cool”.
I only wish the bhavya tariqe ka ayojan (this has been well-organised) thing were true.