Five minutes and 22 seconds.
That’s how long the first pull lasted in the men’s final between Punjab and Kerala at the Khelo India Beach Games — the longest in the tournament.
Tug of war was one of two demonstration sports at the Games, and the pullers did just that — demonstrated sheer will and strength. Half-buried in the sands of Ghoghla beach, bodies leaned back nearly parallel to the ground, they looked frozen in time. Coaches barked orders. Spectators cheered. But the thick rope barely moved.
Among those watching was Satish Kharatmal, a former player and now a referee with the Tug of War Federation of India (TWFI). He’s seen the sport dismissed far too often.
“People think you just have to pull the rope. But most can’t go beyond 30 seconds. To pull for five minutes, you need three-four years of training — not a 10-day camp.”
A Long Way from Pro
Hari Singh Thakur, TWFI president for six years, doesn’t sugarcoat it.
“We’re still far from making this a professional sport. Other countries have raced ahead. We’ve only just started sending national teams abroad. The results haven’t come.”
At the 2024 World Championships in Germany, all five Indian teams, selected through trials, finished last in their groups.
The next step, Thakur says, is getting services — defence, police, public bodies — involved. “That could raise the sport’s quality and help players stay financially stable.”
The Infrastructure Gap
TWFI’s technical head, Madhavi Patil, points to a deeper gulf.
“In countries like Switzerland, England, and Germany, there are tug of war clubs everywhere. Here, it hasn’t spread beyond pockets. We’re trying to take it to the districts.”
India has the structures — krida mandals and vyayamshalas — but few of them focus on tug of war. Scientific training is still rare.
Kharatmal remembers his early days when the technique wasn’t even discussed. “Now we’re at least talking about stamina, fouls, fairplay. But we’re years behind.”
One recurring problem? Funding. The federation, despite being eligible for government support, rarely applies for it. Pre-pandemic travel concessions are gone, and local tournaments often run on registration fees from players.
“We’re hoping athletes get central jobs under sports quota someday,” Patil says.
Recognition Still Missing
Punjab’s men’s coach Mandeep Singh, fresh off a gold medal win, is blunt: “This sport isn’t recognised in our State. There’s no gradation. Kabaddi, hockey, cricket — they’re recognised. Tug of war isn’t.”
Without gradation, athletes can’t benefit from sports quotas or get public sector jobs. Gurpreet Singh, one of Punjab’s players, says synergy is needed between the national federation and the State governments.
“The federation talks about grassroots, but we don’t get support from the State. We even face financial issues while coming to tournaments like these. This sport is once again on the rise, and we hope the State and the federation work in tandem.”
Many Punjab players work jobs — electricity boards, farms, juice shops — and play when they can.
Despite that, Punjab remains a powerhouse. But Kerala is catching up.
The southern State won two golds and a silver at the KIBG. Tug of war is a staple of Onam festivities and second only to football in popularity in many districts.
Yet challenges persist. Many players work as daily-wage labourers. The women’s team captain, Nima MT, says financial strain is real.
“We use our own money to attend nationals. We don’t get jobs. Our certificates aren’t recognised outside Kerala. That needs to change.”
In the absence of structured support, local prize-money events — often backed by sponsors — keep the sport alive. These competitions also sustain the diverse styles of tug of war seen across Kerala. The shoulder-pulling technique, recently popularised by the Malayalam film Manjummel Boys, dominates in districts like Palakkad, Thrissur, and Malappuram. The style showcased at the KIBG, however, is more common in Kannur and Kasargod.
Even the equipment varies wildly.
“We train with coir because it’s cheap,” says Irshad K, Kerala’s mixed team coach. “Here they use plastic ropes. Jute ropes, used internationally, are expensive and hard to get.”
What’s Next?
Tug of war was an Olympic sport between 1900 and 1920. Some in India hope for its return, but first, India needs to make a mark internationally. That starts with longer, more consistent training camps.
“We don’t have regular camps. That’s why we struggle,” says national coach Telin Thamby. “We’re planning one for three to four months next year.”
For now, attention turns to trials in Nagaland ahead of the 2025 World Championships in England, where Thamby believes India could finally break through.
