My deep wish was always to lead the world in a great endeavour, something I alone could do. I had been searching high and low for many years for this outlet. Then on a strange impulse I purchased a copy of the famous Guinness Book of World Records. I found it by chance among the wares of a street seller on Marine Drive during my first lonely months in Mumbai – having arrived in the big city from my native place of Cuttack with high plans to make a name for myself and honour the dear ones I had left behind.
I spent every spare hour between its pages trying to find inspiration and release from the toil of my days working as accountant in Rajesh Battacharjee’s Everest Engineering factory producing cooling towers. But all records there seemed to me like a joke. Those captured by my fellow Indians especially. Longest beard. Longest fingernails. Most time sitting on pole. Most snakebites survived. Nothing matched my desire to branch out in new direction.
I wished to make a fresh impact and when, some three years into my stint in Mumbai, Rajesh Battacharjee mentioned groin kicking as an untested area of achievement it sounded to me like the perfect example of this goal. I had not been so excited by this discovery since first I outstripped my friends in push-ups back in my native place as a young boy.
Then I knew I was destined for great things and the feeling this time was one hundred times stronger.When I closed my eyes to introspect I saw a fantastic fire and emerging from this was BB Nayak with his arms up high in victory and gold medal of the World Record holder hanging from his neck.
“I will be the world topper in kicks to the groin,” I declared with great seriousness.
By the day of the attempt we were well-drilled squad. No more mishaps of one kicker getting in the way of another and all kicks delivered with matching tension – we had the routine in total control and the smiles on our faces after each practice session were proof of this.
Back to the big day. Myself and four kickers prepared with stretching, period of meditation and intake of water. Final messages of support were conveyed by the crowd, who filled the small space and also watched from inside Rajesh Battacharjee’s home where his wife had prepared mango and sweet lime for all-comers. Feeling of love was evident from every side.
I stripped to my briefs to confirm to the world and camera that no protective garment had been secretly installed on my person.
Also made a short statement that no numbing agents had been used and my conduct was at all times that of honest dedicated sportsman.
Then I cleared my mind of all external things. Took ready position. Four kickers made a circle around me as we had determined, all maintaining ideal distance from me and each other to make a smooth action. Gopal Dutta stood in prime spot to carry his duty. Every element was in its correct place.
Needless to say I was very relaxed by now. I could feel the almighty sitting on my shoulder – he spoke very quietly to me: “You will do it, BB, you will do it. No need to worry.” Everything would click according to his pleasure. I made one final breath and gave Gopal Dutta the nod.
“One. Two. Three. Start kicking!” and we jumped into action. Rajesh Battacharjee delivered the first kick. It was straight and hard exactly as rehearsed. It made its target imperfectly, however, and I widened my stance slightly to take account of this. Next one, delivered by Nihal Prasad, the youngest and most eager of the four, was a real beauty. I sensed the impact of his foot most sublimely and exhaled in a trice to protect myself against the force.
His example gave us all a boost and kicks three and four connected on schedule – I felt a small tightness on number four but I quickly erased it from my mind. At this point my concentration was so complete that I was not aware of the world around me. I was focused only on my breathing and counting the kicks as they landed. It was great feeling like floating on a wave of love and positive energy.
My supporters were working wonders, aiming their kicks with great precision and speed. Only Rajesh Battacharjee, who was untrained in martial arts and also unfit due to poor diet and general laziness was finding pace difficult to keep up.
‘I cannot carry on,’ he whispered, his eyes wearing look of panic and legs beginning to wobble like overladen donkey.I tried to urge him on with reassuring expression but he slipped in trying to connect his next kick and landed in a pile on the ground.
“Twenty!” counted Gopal Dutta.
“I am sorry, BB!” panted Rajesh Battacharjee from his prone position.
Grim looks exchanged between the remaining group but we quickly recovered our senses.
The three kickers moved in to close the gap Rajesh Battacharjee’s fall had created. We pressed on in seamless style, we would not let any goofup derail us from our pursuit of glory.
“Go on, BB!” shouted a well-wisher from the crowd.
I was comfortable to press ahead for a high total.The kicks kept on coming at steady pace.
“Thirty! Thirty-one!”
“Keep going!”
The kicking was making a tremendous pattern now, sum of the
best possibilities in the world was centred in my groin. Each impact was lovely demonstration of the power of the almighty to reward toughest measures – I did not wish to stop. I started to hum along to the sound of each kick, counting each figure in my mind with joy of inner voice.
“Thirty-six! Thirty-seven!” called Gopal Dutta, his voice now distant like waves from the sea.
I knew I was already a record breaker, but still I kept on pushing to furthest edge of mind and bodily limits.Time was like a small bird perched on my hand, his wings brushing against my fingers but no desire to fly off, he was very comfortable there.
‘Forty! Forty-one!’
Then the world let out its breath. All the noises from outside rushed into my ears and the light of the day filled my eyes.The pain hit me like lightning, rendering me quite vulnerable from my groin into my stomach and down the complete span of my legs. I freely admit to you that I let out a cry, but it was cry of jubilation as well as agony.
“Do not stop!” I instructed my students. I accepted another kick from Nihal Prasad who was enthusiastic as ever before. The pain was tremendous by now. One final kick was all I could manage before I gave the nod to signal the end of my endurance.
“Forty-three!” Gopal Dutta shouted, and I collapsed on the ground in state of shock and wonder. “New record! Congratulations! Most kicks to the unprotected groin, World Record breaker, Bibhuti Bhushan Nayak of Navi Mumbai!”
Excerpted with permission from Man on Fire, Stephen Kelman, Bloomsbury.
We welcome your comments at
letters@scroll.in.
I spent every spare hour between its pages trying to find inspiration and release from the toil of my days working as accountant in Rajesh Battacharjee’s Everest Engineering factory producing cooling towers. But all records there seemed to me like a joke. Those captured by my fellow Indians especially. Longest beard. Longest fingernails. Most time sitting on pole. Most snakebites survived. Nothing matched my desire to branch out in new direction.
I wished to make a fresh impact and when, some three years into my stint in Mumbai, Rajesh Battacharjee mentioned groin kicking as an untested area of achievement it sounded to me like the perfect example of this goal. I had not been so excited by this discovery since first I outstripped my friends in push-ups back in my native place as a young boy.
Then I knew I was destined for great things and the feeling this time was one hundred times stronger.When I closed my eyes to introspect I saw a fantastic fire and emerging from this was BB Nayak with his arms up high in victory and gold medal of the World Record holder hanging from his neck.
“I will be the world topper in kicks to the groin,” I declared with great seriousness.
~~~
By the day of the attempt we were well-drilled squad. No more mishaps of one kicker getting in the way of another and all kicks delivered with matching tension – we had the routine in total control and the smiles on our faces after each practice session were proof of this.
Back to the big day. Myself and four kickers prepared with stretching, period of meditation and intake of water. Final messages of support were conveyed by the crowd, who filled the small space and also watched from inside Rajesh Battacharjee’s home where his wife had prepared mango and sweet lime for all-comers. Feeling of love was evident from every side.
I stripped to my briefs to confirm to the world and camera that no protective garment had been secretly installed on my person.
Also made a short statement that no numbing agents had been used and my conduct was at all times that of honest dedicated sportsman.
Then I cleared my mind of all external things. Took ready position. Four kickers made a circle around me as we had determined, all maintaining ideal distance from me and each other to make a smooth action. Gopal Dutta stood in prime spot to carry his duty. Every element was in its correct place.
Needless to say I was very relaxed by now. I could feel the almighty sitting on my shoulder – he spoke very quietly to me: “You will do it, BB, you will do it. No need to worry.” Everything would click according to his pleasure. I made one final breath and gave Gopal Dutta the nod.
“One. Two. Three. Start kicking!” and we jumped into action. Rajesh Battacharjee delivered the first kick. It was straight and hard exactly as rehearsed. It made its target imperfectly, however, and I widened my stance slightly to take account of this. Next one, delivered by Nihal Prasad, the youngest and most eager of the four, was a real beauty. I sensed the impact of his foot most sublimely and exhaled in a trice to protect myself against the force.
His example gave us all a boost and kicks three and four connected on schedule – I felt a small tightness on number four but I quickly erased it from my mind. At this point my concentration was so complete that I was not aware of the world around me. I was focused only on my breathing and counting the kicks as they landed. It was great feeling like floating on a wave of love and positive energy.
My supporters were working wonders, aiming their kicks with great precision and speed. Only Rajesh Battacharjee, who was untrained in martial arts and also unfit due to poor diet and general laziness was finding pace difficult to keep up.
‘I cannot carry on,’ he whispered, his eyes wearing look of panic and legs beginning to wobble like overladen donkey.I tried to urge him on with reassuring expression but he slipped in trying to connect his next kick and landed in a pile on the ground.
“Twenty!” counted Gopal Dutta.
“I am sorry, BB!” panted Rajesh Battacharjee from his prone position.
Grim looks exchanged between the remaining group but we quickly recovered our senses.
The three kickers moved in to close the gap Rajesh Battacharjee’s fall had created. We pressed on in seamless style, we would not let any goofup derail us from our pursuit of glory.
“Go on, BB!” shouted a well-wisher from the crowd.
I was comfortable to press ahead for a high total.The kicks kept on coming at steady pace.
“Thirty! Thirty-one!”
“Keep going!”
The kicking was making a tremendous pattern now, sum of the
best possibilities in the world was centred in my groin. Each impact was lovely demonstration of the power of the almighty to reward toughest measures – I did not wish to stop. I started to hum along to the sound of each kick, counting each figure in my mind with joy of inner voice.
“Thirty-six! Thirty-seven!” called Gopal Dutta, his voice now distant like waves from the sea.
I knew I was already a record breaker, but still I kept on pushing to furthest edge of mind and bodily limits.Time was like a small bird perched on my hand, his wings brushing against my fingers but no desire to fly off, he was very comfortable there.
‘Forty! Forty-one!’
Then the world let out its breath. All the noises from outside rushed into my ears and the light of the day filled my eyes.The pain hit me like lightning, rendering me quite vulnerable from my groin into my stomach and down the complete span of my legs. I freely admit to you that I let out a cry, but it was cry of jubilation as well as agony.
“Do not stop!” I instructed my students. I accepted another kick from Nihal Prasad who was enthusiastic as ever before. The pain was tremendous by now. One final kick was all I could manage before I gave the nod to signal the end of my endurance.
“Forty-three!” Gopal Dutta shouted, and I collapsed on the ground in state of shock and wonder. “New record! Congratulations! Most kicks to the unprotected groin, World Record breaker, Bibhuti Bhushan Nayak of Navi Mumbai!”
Excerpted with permission from Man on Fire, Stephen Kelman, Bloomsbury.
