20 June,2021 07:34 AM IST | Mumbai | Anju Maskeri
The Kashmir academy of Wallrunners is housed inside a gym in Soura, a northern suburb of Srinagar. On the ground are rubber mats, to soften falls. Over 200 students have enrolled for the programme, including women. Pics/Hashim Ahmad Hakeem
As a child growing up in Srinagar, Zahid Yaqoob Shah, 29, remembers being painfully shy. "I had no confidence. To make matters worse, I also had a stammer." It's hard to imagine that, given how effortlessly his words flow over a telephonic interview. Equally fluid are his movements. It's not surprising when you learn that Shah, a commerce graduate, is one of Kashmir's first parkour practitioners. "I played a lot of football and cricket, but I couldn't stick with it. I found them constricting because of the rules. Parkour, on the other hand, was liberating because it's less of a sport and more a way of life. You're free to make your own rules and break them."
Having found his own voice and identity, Shah is now helming the Kashmir chapter of WallRunners, an international project that attempts to empower individuals through parkour. The initiative was first launched in Gaza in December 2020. Project lead Tom Vaillant, who is based out of France, started Gaza Parkour, the first parkour academy in Palestine's enclave that saw yet another flare-up of violence last month. The conflict left more than 255 people dead, most of them Palestinians. Months before the conflict erupted, Vaillant secured a family-owned warehouse in the city and brought on board leading sports brand Decathlon as partner. "It's been difficult to say the least. However, there is an incredible amount of interest in the sport [in Gaza] and we're currently getting a lot of visibility, with new children joining our classes every week," shares Vaillant.
In March this year, they raised funds to open the first parkour academy in Kashmir. "We wanted to expand beyond Gaza, and be seen as a more global organisation, or at least one with ambitions to be global, and escape the âniche' identity. Zahid also invested immense trust. He is reliable and a leader in his community - the right fit for our second academy."
A young, dynamic, and subversive sport that developed in France in the late 1980s, parkour involves a heady mix of jumping, vaulting, running and rolling, usually in open spaces and over obstacles. The Kashmir outpost, however, is housed inside a gym in Soura, a northern suburb of Srinagar. On the ground are rubber mats, to soften falls. Over 200 students have enroled for the programme, including women. Shah, a board member of the International Parkour Federation, says it's not enrolment that's a challenge but retaining the participants. "When they see social media posts of seasoned parkour enthusiasts, they get excited and want to join. But you can't learn the moves overnight; it takes time, practice and dedication."
Although this is the first formal initiative, Shah has been spreading awareness about the sport, long before Wallrunners' entry in the state. "I started working out at a local playground. I used to watch YouTube videos of experts and imitate them. Later, I began teaching local kids. The place where we currently train was formerly called Iron Fist, and has been at the forefront of martial arts and fitness training," he shares. Peerzada Adil Iqbal Shah, an instructor at the academy, says parkour is an energetic endeavour. "But, you cannot start directly with the flashy moves. Wrong moves will lead to prolonged injury. So, we continuously advise the students not to perform acts on their own or follow YouTube." The sessions begin with simple walking and running which, Shah explains, leads to endurance, followed by technical instructions. "This will be done over a course of three to four years in order to guide them properly." He thinks it's important that they feed students with the right information. "You have got to make them use these moves only in danger. If you teach them with arrogance and pride, there are chances of them turning overconfident." Efforts are made to simplify complex moves and make them fun. "For instance, while teaching kids cartwheels, we usually drop a coin on the ground and ask them to not take their eyes off it. By doing so, we take focus off the cartwheel and redirect it to the coin to make it less daunting."
Farzan Altaf, 21, a student at the academy was first introduced to the concept of flips and slides through Ninja Hattori, a Japanese manga series written and illustrated by duo Fujiko Fujio. "I used to toss myself and fail at it. When I saw Zahid perform mid-air somersaults without any support, on YouTube, I was zapped. I couldn't believe that a local Kashmiri could be so good at it," says the Nowshera resident. With training, Altaf has grown to understand his body a little better. "I'm learning to channelise my anger into something constructive." Shah says he has several students walk in with low self-esteem only to blossom into confident young adults. "We are offering training to underprivileged youth and even those who are battling drug addiction."
Over the years, the sport has spread to regions ravaged by conflict, offering young people a chance to deal with fear and anxiety, and take control of their mind and body. According to Shah, what has made parkour popular in war zones is that it requires little infrastructure. "You don't need fancy gear or equipment. You can practice it anywhere. It's not competitive; you are only competing with yourself. So, it works well in a place like Kashmir where due to the curfew, residents are compelled to be indoors," Shah shares. Despite its obvious high-risk character, parkour is about personal progress, he insists. "I'd say it's as dangerous as walking down the stairs. If you are not careful, you will hurt yourself."
Finance, though, is the biggest challenge. "Although Wallrunners is taking care of funds, we would want to be self-sufficient and support more of our coaches. The situation in Kashmir is not suitable to run a small business and with the current pandemic, life had only got harder."
