Jolly Boy would walk me back to the hotel to make sure I didn’t get lost and to scare the prying dogs back into their shadows. We’d talk about sports cars and our differing names for chocolate. He’d turn and run when he saw Harshad at the door, his goodbye echoing between the billboards and the sleeping windows. Harshad would always greet me with a haunted look in his eyes, as if I’d caught him weighing up the rights and wrongs of staying alive for another day. I’d hide the money and count my bruises, and then I’d lie awake for an hour fretting over the next morning’s inconveniences and wondering about the friends I’d had at school. What they might have done with their lives and what they might have believed in.
If they could see me now how sick with envy they’d be. I’d be the first of us to go viral and the last to give in to religion.
12. World Record Numbers 3 and 4: 133 backhand push-ups in one minute; smashed 3 concrete slabs of 18kg each in the groin by a sledgehammer (2001)
As you will recall from the previous chapter, I was confined to my bed for three months after my success with sit-up record. My only comfort during this inactive spell was the thought of embarking on another great sporting journey as soon as my body had recovered its full power. I freely admit to you that I had become hooked on the special feeling record breaking provided. I could no longer imagine my life the way it had ticked over before I committed to this adventurous path.
This is what you must understand: in my country the common man is many but his chances to shine are few. Either he is Sachin Tendulkar or he is Salman Khan or he is nothing at all. The people labour in darkness only to fill their bellies while their dreams are forgotten in the dust. They do not complain because they believe this is God’s plan for them. I am here to tell them that God has another plan, and if only they will lift their eyes from the ground they will see it clearly. The almighty has given me one life on earth of one hundred years or less and he has conveyed to me his instructions for what I must do with it: to show the common man what can be done with dedication and positive spirit.
There is actually no limit. This is the remarkable thing I have discovered.
When he sees me on the record stage or romping into limelight of media coverage I want him to say, ‘There is a man who has achieved his dream with no help from rich father or corporate sponsorship. He has beaten the pain alone through strength of mind and body. Look how happy he is. If he can do it then so can I.’ I would like to be the example to awaken the fate which lies sleeping in his heart.
When I told you that I awoke from my coma on fire, this is not so far from the truth. Because while I was sleeping I received a powerful vision from my past which ignited the flame of desire that my injuries had snuffed out hitherto.
The vision was a memory of the time when a fire-eater visited my native place. It is the most important event to occur in my childhood and it is from this root that every branch of my life has grown to provide rich fruit. I was only seven years old and I had not yet discovered the purpose of my life. The fire-eater was a large man with wild orange beard who came out of the forest while I was tending my father’s goats. He had been travelling for many days and was in need of food and water. I took him to my home and my mother fed him. He accepted my father’s offer to stay with us one night, wanting only to rest his feet and recover his strength before he continued on his journey to Puri in time for Bahara Chandana, which is important festival taking place at the Jagannath temple there.
During his short stay the fire-eater would not tell anybody his name. He said it was not important. He did not need a name in any case, for the children of my village had already crowned him Ram because he came from the forest. Ram is the seventh incarnation of Vishnu who was born to free the earth from the cruelty of the demon king Ravana and killed many demons in the forest. This is what we believed as children.
The man we called Ram became a god for the one day that he was among us, because he was so large and had such a fine physical presence and also because we had not seen a man eat fire before. It was very exciting for us as youngsters to watch Ram take the torch, lit before our eyes from the fire of my mother’s tandoor, and swallow it without any sign of pain. The first time was quite a shock and we all gasped in surprise. Then we asked him to do it again to prove that what we had seen was not a trick or a strange dream we were all having. Surely enough he repeated the feat and we were convinced he was indeed a divine incarnation. He did not speak because words were unnecessary to him in this moment.
Then to further entertain us he covered the torch with paraffin and this time when it was lit the flame it produced was awesome in scale. He blew the flame to make it leap like claws of a wild beast. Again he swallowed with no ill effects but great feeling of calm and happiness. Also he ate a coal from the fire.
This day was magical in my childhood. The time passed very slowly and when the sun went down my native place had been changed into a land where the wildest dreams of our lives were coming true. Ram slept in my bed with me beside him on the floor. He snored heavily all through the night. In my childish mind I imagined the snores to contain secrets to his art that I might learn if I swallowed them. So I kept my mouth open to receive his wisdom. When I awoke the next morning he was gone.
Through the days and months I kept wishing for his return but he never came back. However he left behind a clear indication that God’s power existed in the world. From thenceforth onwards I tried to harness it the way Ram had done. I now believe this was my first inspiration for the extreme sports path I would later follow. God was talking to me but I was too young to hear his unaltered voice so he spoke through Ram the fire-eater.
Therefore it was no surprise that in my coma Ram came back to inspire me again. He told me I must not step off my path at the first setback. I must bounce back from injury to continue on my journey to the same place he had come from. So this is what I did.
My wife was troubled by my decision to go on after walking so close to expiry. She can be very stubborn but fully devoted to me, she has always praised the strength of my body and although we were not a love marriage we fit together quite comfortably.
‘Not to worry,’ I told her. ‘I will make provisions for my safety henceforward. The first records were just a stepping stone, now I am a Guinness man I will approach things with a professional attitude. I will not repeat the mistakes of the past.’
And so I approached the job of selecting my next record with great vigour. I was in high spirits having finally received the certificate from Guinness after a nail-biting wait of nine months. Guinness World Record, 1,448 stomach sit-ups in one hour, Bibhuti Bhushan Nayak of Airoli, Navi Mumbai, India. After small celebration with nearest and dearest for unveiling of the certificate in pride of place on the wall of my home, I retired back to privacy to plan the next phase in my sports career.
You may be asking why there was such a large gap of two years between my previous record and the next. Unfortunately this is not an unusual sequence. It is with much regret that I convey to you the difficulties the dedicated sportsman of my country must endure: India may be booming in certain aspects but in less high-profile areas such as individual and extreme sports it remains poor. The government does not make adequate provision for people like me. We are not considered important despite the great works we do for our communities, and there is lack of facilities all round. This is reason why Indian athletes fare so poorly at the Olympics despite the huge numbers of children and young people across the length and breadth of the land who could make great strides if right encouragement was given. (I personally trained two of my students for Beijing 2008 in floor exercises, they made it to the nationals but failed to qualify for the big show. What I have observed over the years of training is there's lack of zeal and interest among the youngsters nowadays in the changing scenario, thanks to careless government and distractions of cellphone and couch potato lifestyle.) Plus the sponsors do not recognise us. They give all their attention to the IPL and even to the inter-state cricket leagues which often display to empty stadiums.