I never imagined that a casual decision to try kickboxing would catapult me onto an international stage. As a hostel student, I juggled academics and discipline, but I craved
something thrilling. Enter kickboxing. I had a black belt in martial arts, so I wasn’t completely clueless, but stepping into a real fight? That was uncharted territory.
Then came a twist straight out of a movie—my coach saw potential in me and offered me the chance to compete internationally. Nine countries. Fierce competitors. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The catch? I had only 20 days to prepare. My body protested, my muscles screamed, and exhaustion hit me like a knockout punch, but my coach wasn’t having any of it. “You’ve got this,” she said, and she made sure I had everything I needed. I trained for 3-4 hours daily, pushing past my limits.
Fast forward to the big day. On the train to Delhi, doubts crept in. What was I thinking? Did I really belong in an international tournament? But when I reached the stadium, my jaw dropped. Thousands of people. The sheer scale of it left me stunned. That’s when the real fight began— not against opponents, but against my own fear of winning. Everyone loves victory, but not everyone is truly ready for it. Was I?
Day one: medical check-ups. Easy. Day two: first fight in the Light Contact category. Bout number 17. Red corner. My heart was pounding. The noise of the crowd melted away. It was just me and my opponent. The first two rounds? I dominated. But then, in the third round, my mind wavered. My coach’s voice faded, my vision blurred, and suddenly, the referee stopped the match. I glanced at the scoreboard—defeat. I was devastated. For the first time, I felt like even God had let me down.
But my coach? She did not let me lose hope. “Be thankful for this loss,” she said. “It showed you where to improve.” That hit differently.
Then came my last shot, the Kick Light under 60 kg category. One fight stood between me and a gold medal. No room for error. My coach whispered, “You just have to win this one.” My heart raced, but this time, I wasn’t afraid. I meditated. I visualized victory. I repeated to myself, “I am made to win. I am NOT going home empty-handed.”
Bout number 28. Blue corner. This was it. The bell rang, and I fought like never before. I didn’t see my opponent as someone with more experience. I saw them as an equal. I didn’t pray to God to help me win, I believed in myself. And guess what? I knocked her out. Gold medal secured. Trophy in hand. Tears in my eyes.
That moment changed everything. It wasn’t just about winning a fight; it was about proving to myself that I was ready to win. This journey has taught me that setbacks are just setups for comebacks. Balancing hostel life, studies, and training wasn’t easy, but every ounce of effort was worth it.
March, 2025
