Antim Panghal: “Bronze is not enough, I want to change the colour of my medal”

When Antim Panghal stepped onto the mat to face Yui Susaki in the Pro Wrestling League, she was not just wrestling an Olympic medallist she was confronting a version of herself she is still trying to become.

Susaki arrived in India unbeaten, untouchable in the league, and carrying the aura of someone who has already stood on the Olympic podium. Antim arrived with something else: the hunger of someone who has been close enough to the summit to know how far it still is.

“I had to give my 100 percent,” Antim said quietly after the bout. “She is much more senior to me. When she won the Olympics, I had not even started wrestling.”

That awareness did not translate into fear. What haunted Antim was not who Susaki was, but what Antim herself did or failed to do in the opening moments of the bout. “I made a mistake in the beginning,” she admitted. “That mistake ruined the whole match. I think it will stay with me for a lifetime.”

Susaki herself pointed it out to her afterwards. Others told her she fought well. None of it mattered. For Antim, wrestling is unforgiving in a way that words cannot soften. One lapse becomes a memory that replays forever. The difference between wrestling in silence and being watched

What made the moment heavier was where it happened.

Antim has wrestled most of her career in anonymity on multiple mats, in halls where only coaches and officials notice what unfolds.

“Usually there are three mats,” she explained. “Nobody is watching. You fight and you leave.” PWL was something else entirely. One mat. A full arena. Indian fans. Noise. Expectation. “For the first time, it was like this,” she said. “Only one mat, in India. Everyone watching.” Even the strongest mind feels that shift.

“In the beginning, there was a little pressure,” she admitted. “But after that, I forgot everything. It became just wrestling again.” That is how Antim survives these moments by shrinking the world down to the mat beneath her feet.

A style built on defence, not fear. Antim does not see wrestling as a collection of moves to be deployed. For her, it is an evolving conversation with the opponent. “Not everyone attacks the same way,” she said. “Some go for the double leg, some for the ankle pick.”

Her own base is defence. “I sit down because I know I will not give a point from there. That’s my strength.”

Sometimes something new emerges not from planning but instinct. “Sometimes a technique you never use in training comes out in a match,” she said. “That is wrestling.” It is in these unpredictable moments that careers are decided.

Being World No.1 without pretending to be complete. Antim is currently the world No.1 in her category. The number matters to her not for ego, but for what it controls. “Ranking is important for seeding,” she said. “Last year at Asian Championships I was ranked around 19–20. Now I am No.1.”

The higher ranking gives her confidence too. “When you play many competitions, you stop thinking about who you are facing. You just wrestle.”

But rankings don’t satisfy her. “I am still only bronze,” she said referring to the World Championships. In wrestling, bronze has two paths, one if you lose the Semifinals or get in via the repechage. She knows both. And she knows they are not gold.

“Bronze is not enough,” she said. “I want to change the colour.” She remembers moments when gold slipped away by seconds. “In the World Championship, I scored two points in the last ten seconds. I didn’t even know how much time was left. I had to look at the LED.” That is how thin the line is.

Paris: defeat, injury, and quiet return

Antim became the first Indian wrestler to qualify for the Paris Olympics. What followed was brutal. “I lost 10–0,” she said. “That was very bad.” But she did not let it define her. “I beat her later in the ranking series,” she added. “10–0.”

After Paris came something harder than losing injury. “When I came back, I was injured. Rehab first. Then three to four months of training.” There was no rush, no shortcuts. Just recovery. The league and a life suddenly visible

PWL changed how people see her. “Ranking series not many people follow,” she said. “But in the league, people watch.” The auction confirmed it. ₹52 lakh. “I thought it might go above 30,” she said. “But 52? I didn’t expect.” Yet she remains removed from the noise. “My social media is handled by my family,” she said. “I don’t go into that.”

Still chasing, still unfinished. Antim’s calendar is already heavy. “Ranking series, Asian Championships, then World Championships and Asian Games,” she said. The road is relentless. But so is she. She does not speak like someone who believes she has arrived. She speaks like someone who knows she is still becoming.

One mistake. One medal colour. One fight at a time.

And that is why Antim Panghal remains dangerous not because of what she has already won, but because of what she still refuses to accept.