Yoga and Traditional Sports: Returning to India’s Roots of Fitness

If you’ve ever walked through an Indian village at dawn, you’ll notice something different from the cities. On the rooftops, men and women stretching into poses older than most empires. In dusty akharas, young wrestlers rubbing mud on their bodies before grappling. In temple courtyards, children skipping ropes, throwing sticks, practicing movements that look almost like dance but belong to games passed down generations.

For all of India’s obsession with cricket, there’s a deeper story here—a return to traditional ways of fitness. Call it yoga, kushti, kabaddi, or mallakhamb. These aren’t trends plucked from thin air. They’re part of India’s DNA, resurfacing at a time when people are chasing both wellness and identity.

Yoga: More Than Just Poses on a Mat

The West turned yoga into a billion-dollar industry. Instagram feeds are full of perfectly lit photos of people in leggings striking handstands. But in India, yoga has always been something else. It wasn’t about showing off. It was survival. A way of keeping the body supple, the breath under control, and the mind steady when life was unpredictable.

Every family has stories—of grandfathers waking up at 4 a.m. for pranayama, of grandmothers doing Surya Namaskar as a morning ritual. Even today, in small towns, people don’t “work out,” they “do yoga.”

And it’s not just nostalgia. Doctors are recommending it again. Stress? Try breathing exercises. Back pain? Certain asanas can help. Anxiety? Meditation as a supplement to therapy. Science is circling back to what Indian traditions already knew.

The Mud and Sweat of Kushti

Step into an akhara (traditional wrestling pit), and you’ll smell it before you see it. Earth, ghee, sweat. Kushti, India’s ancient wrestling form, isn’t done on mats. It’s fought on soil, tilled and mixed with turmeric and oils to keep it pliable. Wrestlers—called pehelwans—train with gada (maces), do hundreds of push-ups, and live on strict diets of milk, almonds, and chapatis.

Once, akharas were centers of community life. Kings patronized them, villages celebrated local champions. Then modern sports infrastructure and cinema glamour pushed kushti aside. But it’s coming back. Partly because of nostalgia, partly because of pride, and partly because of international exposure. When Sushil Kumar and Yogeshwar Dutt brought home Olympic medals, kushti was no longer just old-fashioned—it was heroic again.

Kabaddi: From Dust Fields to Prime-Time TV

Kabaddi was always that game played in schoolyards. A few kids squatting low, chanting “kabaddi, kabaddi” without taking a breath, tagging opponents, and running back before being caught. Rough, sweaty, no-frills.

But then came the Pro Kabaddi League in 2014, and everything changed. Stadium lights, sponsors, TV deals. Suddenly kabaddi had commentary, team jerseys, international stars. It wasn’t just rural nostalgia—it was entertainment.

And Indians loved it. Ratings shot up. In its first season, Pro Kabaddi pulled in higher viewership than some IPL matches. Kabaddi had gone from “that thing you play in PE class” to a sport families watched together.

Table: Rise of Kabaddi Viewership

The numbers may have dipped over time, but the fact remains: kabaddi found its stage, and it’s here to stay.

Mallakhamb: Gymnastics, But On a Pole

Mallakhamb looks like a circus act if you see it the first time. Athletes climbing wooden poles or ropes, twisting their bodies into gravity-defying poses. But this isn’t circus—it’s centuries-old training, originally used to make soldiers and wrestlers stronger.

Today, it’s gaining recognition again. Schools are adding it into fitness programs, and competitions are sprouting across states. It’s brutal on the body—blisters, falls, bruises are part of the deal—but it builds insane strength and agility.

In 2019, the government even declared mallakhamb the state sport of Madhya Pradesh. Small step, but symbolic. Recognition matters.

Why the Revival?

So why now? Why are Indians circling back to yoga and traditional sports when gyms, treadmills, and protein shakes are everywhere?

1. Identity: In a globalized world, people want something rooted. Yoga, kabaddi, kushti—they feel authentically Indian.

2. Accessibility: You don’t need fancy equipment. An open ground, a rope, a pole, a patch of soil—that’s enough.

3. Health Awareness: Rising lifestyle diseases—diabetes, obesity, anxiety—are pushing people toward natural, bodyweight-driven routines.

4. Government Push: From International Yoga Day to kabaddi leagues, there’s visible investment in branding Indian fitness heritage.

Clash with Modern Fitness Culture

Here’s the catch. Traditional sports are about community, ritual, discipline. Modern fitness is about speed, aesthetics, instant results. That’s why yoga studios now sell weight-loss packages. Akharas are turning into commercial gyms. Kabaddi is marketed with flashy graphics and celebrity endorsements.

There’s both gain and loss here. On one hand, exposure keeps traditions alive. On the other, commercialization strips the rawness that made them unique. When kushti becomes just “wrestling content” for Instagram reels, you wonder—what gets left behind?

A Table of Contrasts

Stories That Stay With You

I once visited an akhara in Varanasi. A boy, maybe 14, practicing with a gada bigger than his torso. His coach, a wiry old man with white moustache, shouted: “Do not lift with your hands, lift with your breath.” That line stayed with me. Fitness wasn’t just about muscles—it was about spirit.

Or take Yoga Day celebrations. In 2022, on a misty morning in Delhi, thousands gathered in Lodhi Gardens. Men in business suits, women in saris, school kids, foreigners. All lying on mats, eyes shut, breathing together. For once, the city’s chaos paused.

And kabaddi? Watch a Pro Kabaddi final in Bengaluru. The crowd, half kids, half middle-aged uncles, shouting “Raid, raid, raid!” as if their lives depended on it. Goosebumps.

The Road Ahead

The challenge now is balance. Keep the traditions alive without diluting them into fads. Encourage schools to include yoga and kabaddi, not just cricket. Invest in akharas and mallakhamb poles, not just gyms with imported equipment.

And maybe—dream a little—see India exporting not just IT or Bollywood but also its fitness culture. Imagine mallakhamb being practiced in Tokyo schools. Or kabaddi leagues in Brazil. Or yoga returning to its original roots even as the world keeps remixing it.

Closing Thought

India’s future of fitness might look high-tech—apps, wearables, protein powders. But scratch deeper, and you’ll see people going back to mud pits, ropes, mats under the morning sun. Because sometimes progress isn’t about new machines. It’s about remembering what worked all along.

When you see kids chanting kabaddi, pehelwans lifting gadas, or a grandmother still doing her 12 rounds of Surya Namaskar at sunrise—you realize: fitness isn’t imported. It’s homegrown. And India is finally waking up to that truth.