First they ignore you,
Then they laugh at you,
Then they fight you,
Then you win.
MUMBAI: The 2010 Commonwealth Games are years away. Geeta Phogat (Zaira Wasim, Fatima Sana Shaikh) has just returned to Balali, her village in Haryana, after months of preparation at the National Sports Academy in Patiala. Something about her has changed. She isn’t exactly the same girl her father, former wrestler Mahavir Singh Phogat (Aamir Khan), trained. She is more confident, ambitious, better skilled and ready to take on the world by storm. On the other hand, the rustic Mahavir wants to keep things simple. The tough patriarch wants his daughter to remain focused on the elusive international wrestling medals for India. He doesn’t like the way Geeta has been sucked into the new training regime. He thinks his methods are better than the coach’s at the academy. It is the early 1980s and wrestlers are treated as local heroes. This is yet not the time for gym-toned bodies and common folks like to believe that wrestlers are physically superior to them.. On top of that, Mahavir Singh Phogat is a former national champion. Now a government servant, Phogat, who wears a gold ring and a silver-plated watch, has a volatile temper and wants a son to carry his legacy forward.
Such sentiments have already taken Haryana to the wrong side of the gender equality debate by the beginning of the ’90s. His apologetic wife (Sakshi Tanwar) shows how you start liking your oppressor because there is nowhere else to go. Not so directly, though. Tanwar’s comic timing tries to deflect the focus from her life to the little girls who are forced to fight the local chauvinists because their father has decided to transform them into world-class wrestlers. Mahavir is doing it because he has a dream to fulfil, but the girls have taken up wrestling because they are tired of cringe-worthy men and unrepentant boys. No wonder, they get their first boy-versus-girl fight because the organisers believed, “Agar apne pehalwano ko sher se bhi lada dega toh itne log nahi aayenge,” (You won’t sell these many tickets even if your boys fight a lion). Geeta’s face, stride and attitude scream of retribution. She is there to break bones and the proverbial glass ceiling. And she doesn’t need to wear a classy gown for that. She wears lycra beneath her loose shirt and shorts that leaves only her palms and feet exposed. It’s in stark contrast to the boys’ outfits: nothing but a loin cloth. Still somebody in the crowd blows an obscene whistle. She must win the fight at any cost.