Author: admin

Day-1 at Bal Vinay Mandir.

200 Girls

Coach was Somesome Ma’am.

The Power of Replication

Sunday lunch – after a long time we went for lunch together to our favorite South Indian place – Banana Leaf. It’s placed in a mall – primarily to serve the malls footfalls. We’re probably one of the rare visitors who go through all the trouble of parking and walking up two flights of stairs, only for the 45-min of tasteful bliss.

I have been asking my father for more than 10 years – this place is always full, and has such a great fan-following, why do they not start a few more locations. And my father would always give the same reply: perhaps because the owners are not confident of being able to replicate the success. We’ll discuss a bit about what replication of success means – is it the infrastructure ? or the food preparation process ? the chef or his team ? the ingradients ? the servers ? quality control ?

Last week’s successful program at Bal Vinay Mandir popped up into my mind – will Dfend be limited only to Indore? Or only to my interest / passion? What would happen when I leave for pursuing my under-grad next year ? If the Program starts working out in Indore, then can we not ‘replicate’ this in other parts of India?

Lots of questions, very few answers today. But, as of today, I’m adding another ‘aspirational’ section on the website – to seek other like-minded people like me (regardless of age, gender, stage, location) – who would like to partner with us to ‘replicate’ Dfend and multiply the impact in the society.

19 Sep 2024. This was the day when I appeared for my Black Belt exam.
I was a bit nervous, because for some reason I felt less prepared than I like to be.
The last 2 years have had too many changes, too many ups-and-downs, and I barely got a chance to learn and practice my katas in the last few months.
My last Karate exam was just after covid, in 2022. 2023 went by quickly with didi preparing to move to the US for her under-grad, and I entered my 10th – when the real pressure for Board exams start. The first few months of 2024 went in preparing for my life’s biggest national level exams till date. And the day after the exams – I had to move to a new school – and new curriculum, from CBSE to IGCSE.
But that’s when I decided to rejoin my Karate classes and complete the dream I had been carrying for 7 years – to complete my Black Belt.
It was not easy – and managing time was the biggest challenge. My new school was so much further away, and the subjects I chose at school were not easy. The study pattern was completely new to me – but I was determined to keep practising Karate every single day – relentlessly, till I cleared my test.

And so the big day was here – 19th Sep, just a day before my grand-pa’s birthday.

Exams are always held at Nehru Stadium…
First the green belt…
Finally I delivered on my kata flawlessly.

Independence Day, and what it means for Dfend

(“Insert the image of Tagore and the poem”
Where the mind is without fear, and the head is held high.
“But girls have a constant fear, whether they say it aloud or not. They are always fearful about what may happen to them. True independence means true freedom from this fear”

Where knowledge is free. Can we make this core skill/knowledge freely available to everyone in the country.

Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way in the dreary desert sand of dead habits. Giving girls the tools to be independent, confident and self-reliant – isn’t it so logical ? Why has our education system stuck in its old habits, and not made this a core part of its delivery to the society?

It may sound silly, but I’m really happy that we got the domain registered for Dfend.

More than anything else, this is the first tangible money I’ve spent to start embarking on my journey to build Dfend.

I can now get the WordPress site setup so I can start moving all my little notes, diary entries and logs to this one central place.

There is so much I want to capture, to express – about how Dfend can create a snow-ball effect in our society. I finally have a home for my thoughts.

(Diary note, rewritten here)

23rd Sep, 2024.

Today I formally heard that I had cleared my Black Belt exam (though, from the expressions of the examiner on 19th, I had made out that I will get through 🙂

I feel elated beyond measure. This was the conclusion of 7 years of effort, or remaining committed, of hundreds of early-mornings, of thousands of punches and kicks, of endless drops of sweat (thankfully, no blood!), of fun times with new friends I’d meet in every new batch and session.

During dinner, my father asked me this question – so Anya, how do you think Karate has impacted your life ?

I knew exactly how – and was quick to answer. Karate helped me learn discipline – our coach ensured that every min of delay costed dearly in additional rounds of running & stairs as punishment – and we learn to be always 5-min before time.

It helped me develop focus. While practising fights – if we get distracted even for a second, we’re done for.

It developed my inner strength as much as my outer strength and stamina.

I gained appreciation for value of perfection. We had to learn to hold our positions like squat down to perfect form and posture. Any weakness there would mean losing to the opponent.

Karate also taught self-control and restraint. We had to learn to be able to punch or kick perfectly, but be able to hold so as to not hurt the opponent.

But, beyond everything else, it gave me self-confidence. And this is what I valued the most. It gave me a sense of security – something I would otherwise only feel with my parents. I was able to visit various places, pursue many activities – without someone to accompany me all the time – something I could never think of when I was younger and so timid.

By the third day, something had changed. The air itself felt different. The girls no longer walked to the ground hesitantly, they rushed in, eyes bright, eager to know what we would be learning next.

Some of them giggled as they showed me their sore arms and legs, proof of the previous day’s practice. “It hurts to sit, Didi!” one said dramatically, holding her thigh. Another chimed in, “My hands are aching too — but we still came, because we didn’t want to miss today.”

Their complaints, half real and half playful, carried a sweetness that made me smile. What had started as reluctant attendance was now turning into a commitment.

That day, beyond the kicks and blocks, we introduced something different — a conversation about the Indian Penal Code. At first, they listened in silence, heads tilted, as if the very idea of discussing “the law” felt unusual inside their school ground. But soon, questions began to rise. “What happens if…?” “What should we do when…?” The ground, usually filled with drills and laughter, now buzzed with curiosity of another kind. They were beginning to see that self-defence was not just about the body — it was also about knowledge, about rights, about understanding the law that was meant to protect them.

When the session ended, the girls began to gather their bags, still chatting among themselves. Most left quickly, but one lingered. She hesitated, then walked toward me, her expression carrying both nervousness and determination.

She began softly, almost as if confessing:

To be honest, when I first heard about this self-defence training, I thought it was such a waste of time. This is my Class 12 year, the most important year of my school life. I only came for the first class because all my friends were coming. The whole time, I was already planning in my head how to make up for the ‘lost time’ and even thought of excuses for not coming the next day.”

She paused, and I could see the shift in her eyes, a spark, small but certain.

“But then something changed. The very first day, when I learnt how to stand tall, how to block, how to defend myself — I felt something different. By the second day, I was laughing with my friends during the drills. Between the kicks and the blocks, I actually started enjoying it. And now, after just three days, I feel so much better. I feel more confident walking home. I don’t shrink when people stare at me. What I thought was a waste of time has turned into one of the most valuable lessons of my life. For the first time, I feel strong.”

Her words lingered in the air long after she left, heavier than any punch or block we had practiced.

In that moment, I realised — this was no longer just a training program.
This was transformation.

Today was the second day of our session, and I reached about five minutes early. A small knot of nervousness sat in my stomach. I kept wondering — would the girls return after yesterday’s class? If they showed up again, it would mean they were not only enjoying the sessions but also wanted to learn more.

The bell rang. For a moment, the ground was empty. Then, like a small spark of hope, two girls came running forward to set up the table and the mic. My heart lifted. And then, like magic, more girls began pouring in — not trickling, but streaming, their voices filling the air.

I quickly noticed something different today. Among the familiar faces were many new ones. The girls who had attended the first session had brought along their friends who had missed it yesterday. It felt like a ripple was already spreading.

Their expressions told me everything I needed to know. There were no signs of boredom, no reluctance — only energy, curiosity, and excitement. The ground filled with the cheerful chitter-chatter of young voices, yet when it was time to line up, they moved quickly into neat rows, maintaining their distance with surprising discipline.

In that moment, I felt my nervousness dissolve. The validation I had been looking for wasn’t in words — it was in their presence, their smiles, their eagerness to be here.

Day 2 had begun, and the journey was already growing bigger than I had imagined.

The Beginning of a New Chapter
Today was a big day for me — the first time I truly felt what it means to impact the lives of others.

My team and I reached the school 20 minutes ahead of time. The sun was still high, casting long shadows of the tall gates onto the road. As we stood waiting to meet the Principal, my eyes wandered around the campus. The first thing that struck me was how clean and well-kept the school was — neat pathways, freshly swept corridors, classrooms with doors wide open to let the light in. I caught myself thinking, Why did I expect otherwise? Mental note to self: never make assumptions before seeing things for yourself.

The Principal welcomed us warmly, and after a short conversation, we were escorted to the open ground where our first training session would begin. The ground was in the heart of a sprawling campus — a one-storey building wrapped around it, with classrooms on both the ground and first floors. The open space stretched easily 200ft by 200ft, its neat hexagonal tiles catching the afternoon light. All around, tall trees stood like sentinels, their leaves whispering softly in the breeze. I smiled, knowing these trees would one day shelter our outdoor sessions from the summer sun.

The school had thoughtfully created a special slot for our training towards the end of the academic day. Still, a worry lingered in my mind — would the girls want to stay back after a long day of classes, or would they see this as just another chore before they could go home?

At exactly 3:00 pm, the sharp clang of the school bell rang out. The sound carried through the corridors, and soon,one by one, the students trickled out — first in twos and threes, then in larger groups.

Some were shy, their eyes darting curiously towards us.
Some walked with quiet determination, as if ready for anything.
Some giggled softly with friends, unsure of what was about to happen.

But in every single pair of eyes, I saw it – a spark.
The kind that comes when you begin to sense you are stronger than you’ve been told.

Within minutes, about 250 girls were standing in perfectly straight lines. A small mic and speaker system sat on a table nearby, waiting for our voices to fill the space.
The Principal joined us, her voice carrying warmly across the ground as she introduced us to the students.

I stepped forward, the mic in my hand, and looked out at the girls – young, curious, full of untapped strength. And in that moment, something shifted inside me.

This wasn’t just about teaching self-defence.
It was about shaping a generation that could walk through life unafraid.

And as the breeze rustled through the trees above, I knew with certainty — this was only the beginning.