Dipa Karmakar: The quest continues

Bodies flying, bodies landing. Bodies jumping, bodies hanging. Bodies everywhere. If you happen to watch a group of gymnasts at practice, chances are you’ll be instantly reminded of your physical limitations. You might also be tempted to stop believing in Sir Issac Newton’s Law of Universal Gravitation. Amid this incredibly exhilarating sight — of bodies leaping and landing — Dipa Karmakar quietly rubs magnesium bicarbonate on her palms. A few dabs of honey, some more powder, and she is ready. An iron rod, placed at a height of about four feet, is a few inches away from Dipa. A couple of feet away is set another rod, this one at a slightly higher level than the first. They’re called the uneven bars — tools that (literally) stretch the possibility of human strength, testing one’s core: body, mind, soul and character.

‘It’s easy for an athlete to lose confidence, but I will make sure that doesn’t happen to her’

Dipa Karmakar looks at the bar for a couple of seconds. It seems a lifetime. You imagine a silent dialogue going on. And then, without warning, she leaps — hanging on to the lower rod, clasping it with a firm-yet-flexible grip. Her cocked wrists move slightly, stabilise, and then move again. Momentum is generated and some invisible, inaudible engine inside her revs up. Three half rotations, three full rotations. Three hundred and sixty degrees. She returns to the conventional hanging position, swings her 4’11” frame back — glutes first — and in a swift, powerful thrust, flies to the next rod. She steadies her suspension. Takes a deep breath, and pushes again. Three half rotations. Neutral. Three full rotations. Neutral. One full rotation, and she is hanging upside down on the rod, her wrists change direction in an instant as she watches the world below, inverted. Bodies fly around her, bodies hang around her. Nobody (except your correspondent) is amazed. Bishweshwar Nandi, the Dronacharya Award-winning coach, stands close, expressionless. He issues an instruction softly, and Dipa returns to ground. No fuss. Life continues. Dipa rubs some more magnesium bicarbonate and honey, and flies again. “Gymnastics stretches every single muscle of your body. It involves balance, speed, strength, and flexibility. It’s also a very beautiful sport,” Nandi says. [lq] [caption id=“attachment_4416471” align=“alignnone” width=“1024”]  Dipa came to me in 2001-02. What stood out for me was her zidd, says Nandi[/caption] [/lq] Dipa knows she is out of this year’s Commonwealth Games, but that doesn’t mean a let-up in intensity. The Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL) surgery she underwent on her right knee last April kept her out of action for six months, and far from the clamour of Delhi where she trains, the 24-year-old underwent rehab in Agartala. She used her time off learning to drive, and coach Nandi ensured her spirits stayed up. Athletes dread such enforced downtime. They would much rather slog in the haunting hollowness of stadiums than put their feet up on doctors’ orders. Times like these can sow doubts and debilitate confidence. “When your ward is injured, it’s the duty of coach to keep his/her confidence up. Maine chhoda nai isko (I didn’t desert her),” Nandi says. The coach ensured Dipa stayed in shape and maintained her weight with regular gym sessions. They would focus on upper body training, and as her knee healed, lower body strengthening exercises followed. At the time of our meeting, Dipa is doing a unique routine: she uses an Olympic rod to do a one-legged squat, and does a calf-raise as she comes up. That’s 15 reps on each leg. “That’s to strengthen her ankle and knees,” Nandi informs us. “As a coach, it’s my duty to look after an athlete’s physical and psychological well-being. I keep myself updated by talking to various nutritionists and sports psychologists, besides doing my individual research. I will make sure Dipa is not bogged down by this ACL injury. It’s easy for an athlete to lose confidence, but I will make sure that doesn’t happen to her.” Sports in general, and gymnastics in particular, is a lot about the mindset. Nandi understands this and insists they rarely talk about opponents, to keep Dipa insulated from pressure. “I simply tell her that you can do it. She herself is a very confident girl, and she trusts me completely." “Even now, if I ask her to do a Produnova, wo kar jaegi (she will do it). But that won’t be good for her knee in the long run. That doesn’t mean we won’t do it, but now is not the time,” he insists. Dipa understands she needs to bide her time, and tells us she is not disappointed to miss the Gold Coast event. “I am not sad or disappointed. It’s important for my leg to heal completely. I am sure our team will do well,” she says.

Even now, if I ask her to do a Produnova, wo kar jaegi (she will do it). But that won’t be good for her knee in the long run

Produnova, of course, is known as the ‘Vault of Death’ and carries the highest difficulty rating, or D-Score of 6.4, due to high chances of injury that accompany it. The score has been brought down from 7 under the new Code of Points by Fédération Internationale de Gymnastique (FIG), but still retains its top spot on the difficulty index. Named after Russian gymnast Yelena Produnova, who was the first to perform it successfully in 1999, the double front somersaults performed in a tucked position caught Nandi’s fancy months before the 2014 Commonwealth Games. “I knew it was tough, but I was confident that Dipa had the skills to do it. You can judge that as a coach. We decided to try Produnova at the 2014 Commonwealth Games and started practising it three months before the Games.” In the 19 years since it was first performed, Produnova, or the handspring double front, has endured sporadic, but consistent, calls of a ban. Purists argue that lesser gymnasts use this high-risk vault to rack points in a clutch, and the move in itself puts its practitioners in mortal danger. While the first part of that argument is debatable, the latter bit is not beyond reason. Only five gymnasts have completed it successfully at international events. In a sport not immune to unfortunate, career-ending, life-changing accidents — as erstwhile Soviet Union gymnast Elena Mukhina’s ‘Thomas salto’ gone wrong illustrates — vaults like the Produnova involve a fair degree of mutual trust between the coach and the gymnast, something that Nandi spoke of earlier, in addition to the obvious skill and courage of the athlete. It’s hard for coaches to draw a line, especially after they have spotted a spark in their ward — and especially when a leap guarantees a pathway to lasting glory. But draw the line they must. [imgcenter]

[/imgcenter] Mukhina was coerced into the move by her coach Mikhail Klimenko, and while training for the 1980 Moscow Olympics, the 19-year-old 1978 World Champion landed on her chin and snapped her spine. She was rendered a quadriplegic and died before she was 47. In the 1991 documentary More than a Game, Mukhina spoke of trying to convince her coach about the lurking danger. “My injury could have been expected. It was an accident that could have been anticipated. It was inevitable. I had said more than once that I would break my neck doing that element. I had hurt myself badly several times but he (Klimenko) just replied that people like me don’t break their necks,” she revealed in the documentary. The Thomas salto was banned following Mukhina’s accident. Produnova, by contrast, has not resulted in a major injury so far, but the possibility exists. When Simone Biles equates it with death, you better believe it’s true. One wrong twist, one awkward landing , one stray lapse in concentration can result in a nasty fall, leading to, at best a broken leg, and at worst, paralysis or death. It’s incredible how Dipa and Nandi manage to shut out the noise and wink at fate every day. “I don’t fear anything,” Dipa says. “Standing at the top of your mark, you can’t think much. I shut out everything – noise, fear, thoughts. I just look at the vault and focus on my movements.” Perhaps this is what athletes refer to as the “zone”, where white noise and fear of the unknown fail to breach their vision. Getting into this state of focussed indifference is in itself a psychoanalytical enigma, and Nandi understands the importance of mental strength. “In any sport, mindset is the most important aspect, I would say more important than skills,” he says.

‘Produnova is a very powerful vault, and very dangerous too’

On 31 July 2014, Dipa stood on the top of her mark, in shimmery silver leotard. It is tempting to think of what might have gone through her head: the pressure of performing in a packed SSE Hydro arena in Glasgow, the hours of dodging death and injuries, her journey from far and forgotten Agartala, the wooden spoon at the 2010 Commonwealth Games, or the vault that stood ahead of her. This is no ordinary sport and she is no ordinary athlete. She, as she tells us, is conditioned to keep stray thoughts at bay and enter the Zen mode. On cue, the run begins. Short steps, hands fluttering like fins, and finally her right foot landing on the board, propelling her body on the vault, two front somersaults, and a near-perfect – and importantly, safe – landing. Produnova it is, and a bronze medal. “I was sure Dipa could pull it off. She landed awkwardly during her first few attempts in practise, but mastered it quite quickly — to an extent that it’s become her signature move,” Nandi says, with startling confidence. “Every time we try a new vault, it’s only after I am 100 percent sure if it can be done. She is like my child.” You can watch that video on loop, and still your jaw will drop each time. It inspires awe in not just what it achieves, but in also what it could lead to. You would be hard pressed to find a sport that comes so close to tragedy so often. Formula One, yes; combat sports, yes, but something about the lack of mean muscle, gum shields and helmets makes it a naked exhibition of artistic fatality. “See, modern gymnastics is all about power, and Produnova is a very powerful vault, and very dangerous too. It involves all four elements of gymnastics coming together: speed, strength, balance and flexibility,” the coach explains. He has known Dipa for 18 years now, and he is aware of her zidd (determination ) too; zidd that drives the fear away, zidd that endures. “Dipa came to me in 2001-02. What stood out for me was her zidd. Zidd is very important to succeed. You waited for this interview for half-a-day because you had this zidd to talk to me. Dipa always had this determination. Sir, medal lana hai kuch bhi kar ke, she would say.” [rq] [caption id=“attachment_4416481” align=“alignnone” width=“1024”]  I shut out everything – noise, fear, thoughts. I just look at the vault and focus on my movements, says Dipa[/caption] [/rq] Karmakar and Nandi decided to try Produnova at the Rio Olympics too, and as the quadrennial event drew nearer, it became the buzzword among scribes and fans. “I remember she qualified on 7 August, and her event was on 14 August. Those seven days were like seven years for me. So much pressure. I heard even the Prime Minister mentioned us in one of his speeches in the Parliament. Everywhere we went, people and the media kept telling us, ‘Medal lana hai.’ It was unbelievable and unprecedented pressure. I tried my best to shield Dipa from all of it, but she obviously knew the expectations,” Nandi recalls. On the eve of India’s 69th Independence Day, with the country yet to open its account in the medal tally, the first woman gymnast from the nation to compete at the Olympics flew again. Perhaps for the first time, Indians tuned in en masse to gymnastics, keen to see what this girl is all about. She performed the Produnova and finished with a combined score of 15.066 – enough to make her the fourth best at the event, but brutally short of a medal. “There are two ways to look at our Olympics result: a great success or a missed opportunity. Dipa and I look at it as a missed chance. Dipa wept a lot…a lot…that day. She knew she was so close to an Olympic medal. I had a tough time consoling her and calming her down. Also, I was petrified to think of what would be the reception back home. After all the pre-Games hype, we were under a lot of pressure to return with a medal.” Wait, a fourth-place finish at the Olympics, and worrying about facing the heat back home? Tells you a lot about what Nandi and Dipa expect of themselves and also the relentless pressure from fickle fans. Nandi’s account of the days after the Rio campaign is revealing, and must be read in entirety.

‘There are two ways to look at our Olympics result: a great success or a missed opportunity’

“After she finished fourth, I was so terrified to think of the backlash in India. I thought everyone would say, ‘Itna shor machaya but look at the result.’ We were scheduled to land in Delhi at 3.30 am, and Dipa told me in Rio, ‘Sir, when we land, we will quietly hire an auto and go straight to IG Stadium. Nobody will notice.’ That seemed a good suggestion to me too." “I called up people at the Federation and requested them to come to the airport to receive us. They laughed over the phone. In Brazil, we didn’t have much access to Indian news, so I called up my wife and asked if people are being too nasty and saying a lot of bad things about Dipa and me. She told me we are being called heroes and everybody is raving about us. I couldn’t believe it! I was so overcome with emotion. “When we landed, we were amazed by the reception we got. Frankly, we didn’t expect it at all. People were crazy for us in Delhi, and back in Agartala, we were showered with so much love. That was such a special feeling; to be recognised by people from our country and our state. Even today, when I think of those few days, I get emotional.” Dipa was handed over a BMW by Sachin Tendulkar — that the organisers couldn’t think of a worthy Olympian to do the honours is a debate for another day — and she shared the airwaves with badminton star PV Sindhu and wrestler Sakshi Malik, the country’s only medal winners from the Games. Two medals and a fourth-place finish from a contingent of 117 athletes — the largest that the country had ever sent — tells quite a story. Unsurprising then, that Dipa prefers to perform the ‘Vault of Death’. Because winning medals in multi-sport events for this country demands nothing less. Powered by dabs of magnesium bicarbonate and a dash of honey, Dipa Karmakar continues to look at the world — upside down. “Sir, medal lana hai kuch bhi kar ke.” Remember?