Sakshi Malik fights back, this time with a pen
Sakshi Malik, India’s trailblazing Olympic medallist and wrestler, who has not only created history in sports but also stands at the forefront of an ongoing battle against systemic abuse. From her fight against powerful political figures to her courageous autobiography Witness, Sakshi’s story is one of resilience, strength, and unflinching determination.
Sakshi Malik, a name etched in Indian sports history, not just for her wrestling prowess but for her audacity to stand up against a system that others only whispered about. She is India’s first—and so far, only—female wrestler to win an Olympic medal, a bronze that shone brighter than gold for the nation. But her fight didn’t end on the wrestling mat; in fact, it had barely begun. Off the mat, she continues to wrestle, not with opponents, but with an entrenched system and a powerful politician. Unlike her six-minute matches, this battle drags on, yet, she’s already secured victories in several arenas, forcing the resignation of Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh, the ‘Bahubali’ of Indian wrestling.
Sakshi, ever the fighter, has been relentless. While some change has come about, she has made it clear—her fight won’t end until justice is served.
Now, Sakshi has added another feather to her cap by penning her autobiography, Witness. It’s an apt title, as ‘Sakshi’ translates to witness in Bengali, and she has been just that—a witness to some of the most pivotal moments in her own life and in the larger story of Indian wrestling. This is no ordinary sports memoir filled with tales of medals and glory; Sakshi has dared to go where few Indian athletes have ventured, into the murky waters of power, politics, and abuse within sports.
Last year, Pulitzer Prize-winning author J.R. Moehringer famously declined to write Prince Harry’s autobiography, arguing that today’s memoirs have become tired, repetitive accounts of personal triumphs and challenges—what he called “the same old stories.” In contrast, Moehringer defined a true autobiography as “a story carved from a life,” something more than just a chronicle of one’s achievements. Indian athletes’ autobiographies haven’t yet broken out of that mold. They often stick to a self-congratulatory narrative, rehashing public statements and staying carefully within the lines. Yet, there are exceptions. Abhinav Bindra’s A Shot at History and Ravichandran Ashwin’s I Have the Streets stand out, and Sakshi’s Witness could easily join their ranks.
Sakshi’s wrestling career may not be the centre of public fascination anymore, as she’s been away from the mat for some time, but she remains very much in the public eye for her protests alongside her fellow wrestlers. Images of Sakshi Malik being dragged away by police in the heart of Delhi are still fresh in the collective memory. While fellow wrestler Vinesh Phogat has turned her attention to politics and Bajrang Punia straddles both worlds of wrestling and politics, Sakshi fights on quietly, focusing on what matters most—justice for women.
She’s no longer just fighting for wrestlers. Sakshi Malik has become a beacon of hope for women across professions, whether they be daily wage earners or high-flying corporate employees, standing in solidarity with any woman facing injustice. Her autobiography is a testament to courage, a quality that isn’t easy to display, especially for an Indian athlete. The world of sports, like any other domain, hides its own dark secrets, and revealing them often comes at great personal risk. But Sakshi, undeterred, has brought these truths to light, regardless of the consequences.
She could have easily avoided controversy. Her memoir could have focused on her historic medal, her career in wrestling, and her efforts to promote women’s wrestling. And yes, those stories are there, but she has also laid bare her experiences with gender discrimination, the toxic comments about women’s bodies, and her struggle to marry her friend and now-husband, Satyawart, against her family’s wishes.
One of the more chilling sections of the book is dedicated to Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh, the man who loomed large over Indian wrestling. In 2012, when he became the head of the wrestling federation, Sakshi, then 19, was just starting to understand the power dynamics at play. Singh, a politician with mafia connections, took control of Indian wrestling, and it wasn’t long before Sakshi Malik found herself on his radar.
Sakshi recounts how Singh, who had begun to frequent national camps, took a particular interest in certain wrestlers, often overstepping professional boundaries. He would ask inappropriate questions, seek personal information, and build unsettling relationships with some athletes. Those who complied often found themselves given preferential treatment, including selection for international tournaments. But Sakshi, with her sharp mind and understanding of Singh’s past, kept her distance, despite his persistent efforts.
Singh’s interest in her was relentless. He began calling her “monkey” and would summon her with phrases like, “Come here, my monkey.” It wasn’t long before the phone calls started—offers of protein supplements, promises of taking her to new heights. She ignored them, but Singh didn’t give up. He even started calling her mother, who eventually smashed the phone in frustration.
In her book, Sakshi admits that at the time, Singh’s power within the federation was so absolute that she didn’t dare challenge him directly. His grip on the sport meant he could make or break a wrestler’s career, and she was acutely aware of the consequences.
Fast forward to January of this year, and everything changed. The protests began, sparked by a phone call from Babita Phogat, Vinesh’s cousin and a BJP MLA. Babita urged Sakshi to join a movement to oust Singh, assuring her that she was in regular contact with Home Minister Amit Shah, who would help their cause. What followed was a well-orchestrated protest at Jantar Mantar. But suspicions about Babita’s motives grew when she failed to show up on the day of the protest, offering excuses about her political obligations.
In hindsight, Sakshi reflects that Babita wasn’t just fighting to remove Singh—she had ambitions of taking his place. It became clear that their so-called ally was playing both sides, hoping to emerge as a hero if the protest succeeded, but leaving the wrestlers to fend for themselves if things went south.
Despite these setbacks, Sakshi’s determination has never wavered. Her memoir promises to be an eye-opener, not just for sports fans but for anyone who believes in justice. As Witness prepares to hit the shelves, one thing is certain: Sakshi’s story is far from over. The mat may be behind her, but her fight for truth continues—bravely, quietly, and relentlessly.
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