Tokyo Olympics 2020: Meet Anjum Moudgil, the rifle-wielding ‘monk’

Anjum Moudgil sits lazily in the bucket seat, her outstretched arm nudging the edges of the second seat on her left, her feet resting on the seat beneath her. The placid afternoon breeze induces a warm soporific effect on the casual observer and had it not been for masks, a few almighty yawns would make themselves visible. Moudgil’s countenance, as always, is one of stoned absorption.

Her face gives nothing away. Her eyes, trained to spot a tiny speck from the sight of her 0.22-inch caliber rifle, reveal nothing. Her gaze, however, is fixed at the neat row of shooters lying prone and taking aim at the targets placed 50 metres from them. From a distance, their arrangement resembles a row of long-nosed alligators lolling around in the sun, ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey. The stillness builds. Moudgil surveys the field: left to right, right to left, a quick glance at the scoreboards, before recasting her stare on the group.

On cue, they pull the trigger. The thundering crack of pellets reverberates the sleepy surroundings. The scoreboard blinks; Moudgil doesn’t.

Such still, boring, siesta-inducing days are what shooters in her discipline crave. Recoil, balance, performance are what they train for, but to prepare for an overcast sky or a sudden gust of wind takes more than countless hours of practice. On those days, shooting becomes an exercise against the elements as much as it is against the person in the next lane.

“You learn to live with it,” she says, sipping sugar-free caffeine to calm her spinning head. Her day at the Dr Karni Singh Shooting Range in New Delhi is done. She is due to fly home, Chandigarh, the next morning before kicking off the final phase of preparations for her maiden Olympics. At times, her train of thought takes her to Tokyo, and just as she is about to enter the largely-vacant range and shoot for the podium, she snaps herself out of those visions.

Zen Mode: ‘I take pride in not showing my emotions in the range,’ says Anjum Moudgil. Image: NRAI/Firstpost

“I like to stay in present.”

“I try to avoid thinking or doing things that are not needed. It is important to channelise your energies intelligently. But such thoughts are natural, isn’t it? Ideally, we should stay in the present, but how do you control voices in the head?”

In an individual, and perhaps lonely pursuit such as shooting, voices in the head can be your best friend and worst foe. On her good days, Moudgil’s head doesn’t do much talking; she eases into the rarefied zone that athletes vouch for, and shooting follows. Results, however, are not always in direct proportion to the mental state.

Her famous morning in Changwon, for instance, was so unremarkable that she barely remembers it. The shooting albeit was top class. She won the silver medal in 10-metre air rifle to seal a quota, becoming the first athlete from the contingent to secure a spot at the Tokyo Olympics. She celebrated it by pouring her heart on the canvas. No tequila shots, no cheat meals. It is hard to believe she is still only 27.

When she was younger, Moudgil would observe her impish elder brother being taken to task by their parents. She would make quick mental notes to avoid those mistakes.

“It was not as if I was not mischievous. I either avoided mistakes or just didn’t get caught,” she quips.

In all probability, she has carried that practice to her shooting career. The mental notes are diligently recorded in a diary. Her processes on the days that she shot well are elaborated, as are those that were not particularly memorable.

Moudgil’s reactions to a good and not-so-good days are largely the same – no reaction, at least to the naked eye. There are no fist pumps or angry bursts. Even the winning smile is an embarrassing afterthought. It is like she is yearning to go back and paint. “Well, that’s mostly the case,” she chuckles. “But seriously, I am a very tough competitor. I have a lot of hunger to do well. Some days, I really want to slay the competition, but I do not show my feelings. I’d rather show my aggression with my shooting,” she says.

To an untrained watcher, it makes no sense. Can aggression ever be devoid of pursed lips, clenched fists, death stares, and an odd swearing? “Depends. People have their ways to display aggression. At times I feel it building within me, but I take a lot of pride in my stoicism. It just helps me focus harder and shoot better,” she adds.

In March this year, competing in her pet 50-metres 3 Positions event at the ISSF Shooting World Cup in New Delhi, she finished 16th in the qualifications with a score of 1162, and missed the spot for the finals. The below-par performance flew under the radar a bit with India already gloating over their 15-strong Tokyo-bound contingent, their highest ever. Moudgil, however, was gutted.

“I think I was shooting very well, actually. I really, really wanted to do well in 3P, but I couldn’t make it to the finals, and that did hit me hard. I was hurting.” For all the storm raging within, she simply picked her rifle and left.

“As I said, people have their ways to show emotions. Even on the shooting range, we have all kinds of shooters, and everyone reacts differently to the same situation.

“I am not very expressive, but I know what a good shot feels like. That feeling is hard to put to words. It is, well, a feel; the way we shoot. A good shot doesn’t always mean a 10.9; you just know it when you have pulled the trigger,” she says.

Deepali Deshpande, India’s rifle coach, has seen Moudgil from close quarters. She has been training her since 2013, and has engineered Moudgil’s growth from an obedient fledgling shooter to an obedient world-class practitioner.

“She has always been this way, right from her junior days. She doesn’t speak much, minds her own business, and goes about her task quietly. A bit of a loner, actually,” Deshpande says.

In their early days, the only words the coach would hear from Moudgil was a faint “good morning.”

“It was kind of weird. Not a muscle on her face would move; all I could hear was a soft ‘good morning, ma’am.’ Sometimes I would be confused if she was actually wishing me or someone else. But gradually, I realised that she is different from other kids. She has her ways to tell you that she cares.”

One such way was again many years back, at a national camp when Deshpande was still an active shooter. “I was sitting with other shooters, chatting and waiting for my event to start. I noticed Anjum come up quietly and sat beside me, but said nothing. Just when I was about to leave, I heard a soft ‘all the best, ma’am.’ Such things stay with you. At times, she would just come to me, give me a cup of coffee without being asked to, and leave quietly.”

Moudgil, in fact, has an increasingly rare habit of helping without trying to hog the limelight. She is known to be close to a bunch of junior and upcoming shooters, particularly fellow rifle shooters Aishwarya Pratap Singh Tomar and Arjun Babuta. The ‘Chandigarh gang’ – Moudgil, Babuta, Vijayveer Sidhu, and Udayveer Sidhu – can be found up and about the City Beautiful – cycling, working out, or simply relaxing in a coffee shop.

Friend, mentor guide – Arjun Babuta credits Anjum Moudgil for motivating him during the darkest phase of his career. Image: Arjun Babuta/Firstpost

“I bond really well with the juniors. There is so much to learn from everyone. They are very respectful, inquisitive, and eager to learn. But what I like most about them is their fierce competitiveness… whether we are competing in a range or playing cards in our room, these kids just don’t want to lose. As a shooter, and as a person, I try to imbibe that quality from them,” Moudgil says.

“I think what draws her to these kids is the fact that she is quite simple and approachable in life, despite being one of the finest rifle shooters in India. She bonds very well with Apurvi (Chandela, fellow rifle shooter) too, but Apurvi is again a very quiet person. Being with juniors relaxes her at some level, I think. She talks to them about life and shooting, and they really look up to her,” adds Deshpande.

Also yesterday, @anjum_moudgil & #AishwaryTomar gave a good account of themselves in the 50M 3P Mixed Team event, logging 875/900 to top the MQS section at the #osijek #europeanchampionship #shooting @WeAreTeamIndia @ISSF_Shooting @Tokyo2020 #tokyotraining pic.twitter.com/pZN73bI8nv

— NRAI (@OfficialNRAI) June 1, 2021

Babuta remembers being floored by Moudgil’s humility when he first met her at the School Nationals in 2013, where she was invited to give a pep talk. Moudgil had already made it to the national junior squad by then, and it was a genuine high for Babuta and his teammates to have an India shooter in their midst.

“She was an excellent motivator,” recalls Babuta, who won a bronze in that tournament. “All the kids were naturally thrilled to meet her. She made time for everyone and told us to never lose sight of our target in life.”

A few years on, Babuta made it to the India juniors, while Moudgil graduated to the seniors’ category. The knowledge exchange never stopped. Notes on ammunition, body alignment, posture, and mindset were exchanged, and Babuta found an unlikely mentor in the Indian squad.

“There was obvious nervousness when I first made it to the Indian team. It can get slightly intimidating for any youngster, but Anjum didi made me feel at home. She is a very nice person who really looks out for you.”

In 2018, Babuta, already struggling with lactose and gluten intolerance, injured his back and went into rehab. It was a particularly dark phase in his young career. Again, Moudgil turned up, quietly.

“It was a very tough time for me. I was directionless and extremely worried about where my career would go. Then, Anjum didi made it a point to speak to me regularly and urged me to never give up. She really pushed me to work on my fitness.

“Even after my recovery, she kept pushing me, telling me to never give up. We work out in the gym together, and I am amazed to see her cardiovascular strength and muscle power. She tells me that a fit and strong body forms the basis of a good shooter. A lot of credit for my comeback must go to her,” says Babuta, who often teams up with Moudgil at national-level meets.

“I think what separates her from others is the way she thinks,” he continues. “She is an artist, and she thinks like one. Her world view is something else.”

Babuta and other young shooters often get around to discuss their weaknesses and insecurities – without the fear of being mocked at or judged. It’s an atmosphere they credit Moudgil to have created. She, more often than not, is a part of such discussions, and never hesitates to bare fears and anxieties of her own.

“I think what forms the bedrock of her lovely relationship with juniors is the fact that she is not judgmental. She approaches everything in life with an open mind,” says Deshpande.

The coach and her protégé have come a long way from their initial days of uncomfortable silences. They bond over paintings – their shared passion – besides dissecting her shooting. She is, as the coach puts it, “an excellent painter, an excellent student, and an excellent shooter.”

“It is great to see how far she has come. She always had the attributes, and she has built on them wonderfully. Even eight years back, she was very much a miniature of the person she is now. Her personality and nature haven’t changed a lot. Hers is very organic and natural growth,” adds Deshpande.

The Shooting Marathon

Moudgil’s event, the 50 metres 3 Positions, is marksmanship on steroids. Shooting for two hours and 45 minutes across kneeling, prone and standing positions tests the mental, physical, and technical reserves of an athlete, making it perhaps the most intense discipline in the sport.

The qualification is decided after each shooter has fired 40 shots each in the three positions, following which, the top eight move to the finals. The finals begin with 15 shots in kneeling and prone positions. Eliminations begin after the tenth shot in standing position (40th overall), and the winner is decided on the 45th shot.

For an event that begins rather slow, the shift in momentum is fairly sudden. The changeovers are hectic as shooters have to assemble their rifles as per the position they are required to shoot in. Throw in the imminent threat of elimination, the pressure of the medal round, the weather conditions (more on this later), the cold sweat, the thumping heart, and you have a mad dash crystallised in the naturalised stillness of this crazy sport.

Moudgil has always been a 3P shooter, but her recent success (and quota) in the 10-metre air rifle category had sparked conversations over her shooting in the latter event. However, when NRAI announced the squad for Tokyo, Moudgil was shunted back to the 3P event. She will still shoot in the 10-metre event, albeit in the mixed team category with Deepak Kumar.

There’s no obvious way to tell if she is feeling slightly hard done by; not by her disposition or her carefully chosen words. Deshpande asserts that Moudgil’s 3P spot was always guaranteed, and the recent frequency of her 10-metre appearances was more to break the monotony than anything else.

“I know she has been participating a lot in 10-metre events over the past few years, but all of that has been a part of the plan. We wanted to fine-tune her air rifle shooting because we knew that even with limited training, she can do well in 3P. Usually rifle shooters shoot all events because they complement each other.

“Even at World Championships 2018, she finished ninth in 3P, missing the finals by inner 10s. So the basics were alright. Once the quota was secured, we shifted our focus to air rifle because some areas of her air rifle were being ignored due to 3P training and she had a chance to go to Olympics,” says Deshpande.

Moudgil concurs. “I will have three full months to prepare for the 3P event before the Olympics. Besides, I’ll also be shooting air (10-metre) in the mixed event, so there’s no problem,” she said before leaving for Croatia for the final leg of her preparations.

For a shooter, the 3P event begins much before s/he takes aim in the range. It starts with them pulling the curtains in the morning to ascertain the wind and light. A windy day is dreaded upon, rains are frowned upon, and cloud cover is seen with a considerable sense of foreboding.

“Every 3P shooter comes to the range praying for a clear day. Winds make it very difficult to maintain your position throughout. You have to watch the wind closely, and know that ‘jab apne wala wind aye, tab goli chalana hai.’ Whenever light changes, the point of focus of the eye changes. So you need to be very patient. You understand these things with experience,” explains Deshpande.

Still, weather is not the only challenge. The bigger test lies in dealing with recoil and maintaining balance. “Managing the recoil of the small bore 6.5 kg rifle is the real deal,” says Deshpande.

“Also, three positions require different balance and muscle coordination, and to learn and execute that is a skill in itself because it entails a complete change of shooting style within the competition.”

The change of styles that Deshpande refers to manifests itself in the three positions that constitute the event. The kneeling position is the trickiest as it entails maximum balance. The shooter sits on one knee, takes aim, and shoots. Good core strength and lower body power is used to stabilise the body and absorb recoil.

The prone position allows the body to relax completely, thanks to excellent ground support. A slight tension in the muscles, however, can wreak havoc.

“Prone is a high-scoring position because it offers great accuracy to everyone. There is very little margin for error, and if you lose too many points in this position, you are dead, because no one loses a lot in this position. It’s the most precise position, so you must find the rhythm. Since the body is supported well on the ground, your muscles are not used that much. But if you are under pressure, or your position is not good, or if there is any tension in your body, it affects really badly in your shots,” Deshpande adds.

#coaches need to have an for every detail #tokyotraining #zagreb #indianshooting #deepalideshpande @anjum_moudgil @WeAreTeamIndia @ISSF_Shooting @Tokyo2020 pic.twitter.com/1BSNabEnnY

— NRAI (@OfficialNRAI) June 5, 2021

“While standing, you have to use all your muscles to stay stable because ground support is minimal. You need to have a very strong hold, but in prone, you must learn to relax. So you see, these are two opposing states of muscles that you have to get used to and master.”

Once a shooter gets in his/her stride and the clock begins to tick, the fun begins. It is a deeply meditative exercise, where pesky, petulant teenagers become gun-wielding monks and paunchy middle-aged men become the epitome of athletic stability. The backs arch, the faces tilt, the muscles relax, the heart rate is calibrated, a deep breath is taken and released, and in between, the finger moves the trigger.

It’s torturous precision. In these moments of suffering and subterfuge, a shooter endures the equivalent of solitary confinement. A good shot is a cathartic release; a mini victory of a thousand seemingly irrelevant processes that come together to fuse the external weapon with shooter’s soul and reduce her being to the innermost ring placed in front of her. And yet, a shooter doesn’t have the luxury to stand and admire a good shot. There is no wristy flourish for the topspin or the picture-perfect straight elbow, no curling free-kick or a deceptive drop; all that moves is an index finger.

“You also have to stay calm, hold your position and move on to the next shot. It is very taxing on mind and body. Breathing control is also very crucial. Handling competition pressure is extremely vital. Everyone’s body reacts differently to such scenarios. I would get loose motions on the competition day. Anjali Bhagwat would get a sense of nausea. It is very important to understand your body,” says Deshpande.

For Moudgil, a restless churn in the stomach is a sign that her body is feeling the heat. She speaks to her family and tries not to think too much about the event, but the churn stops only when she enters the range on the D-day.

“The stomach starts acting up usually two days before the competition. On the day of an event, I look out to see the conditions. I listen to some English numbers, nothing in particular, to calm my nerves. I don’t try anything new for breakfast; I eat 60-70 percent of my capacity, I slip into my most comfortable clothing, and I am ready to shoot. This is all part of the preparation, part of entering the zone. Once I enter the range and set up my equipment, things just start falling into place.”

While painting keeps Moudgil in good mental space, she likes to spend weekdays in the gym, honing her core and leg muscles. She likes heavy lifting, with deadlifts being her primary strength-building exercise.

“I generally do a full-body workout, but lifting weights is something I really enjoy. In this sport, you need to have a very good back and a strong core, so I do a lot of deadlifts. Besides, a good workout relaxes me and makes me happy,” she says.

An interesting off-shoot of her muscle-building regime was her recent discomfort with her shooting jacket. Early last year, Moudgil had switched from her Korean brand to an Indian manufacturer. The idea was to try the new kit at the shooting World Cup that was supposed to take place from 15-26 March in New Delhi. However, as COVID-19 pandemic swept the nation, the event was postponed to May and later cancelled. The national lockdown that followed gave Moudgil no time to assess the new kit in a competition.

Shooting camps resumed in October 2020, and Deshpande noticed something off with Moudgil’s shooting. By November, the coach was really worried.

“I knew something was wrong. She was not shooting well. So we sat and worked our minds backwards. It took us a while to register that the problem was with the kit, not with her technique,” Deshpande recalls.

The Indian kit – too snug for Moudgil’s liking – was replaced with the Korean wear that Moudgil had been using. By the time the 2021 World Cup came about, she was shooting well again.

It may appear a trivial issue, but in a sport measured to decimals, every little variable implores attention. Shooting kits, made of stiff canvas, are designed to support the weight of the shooter and the rifle. Each kit supports certain muscles of the body, making it central to overall muscle co-ordination. Moudgil, who is physically strong and has good muscle definition, likes to have some room in the kit while shooting.

“Shooters like Anjum, who’re physically very strong, don’t like too much support. They want some freedom. First, we felt good because of support, but the results were not coming. The stability was very good, but the shot was not coming out nicely. This was a tough diagnosis, but luckily we could zero in on the problem and resolve it in time,” says Deshpande.

As a shooter, Moudgil prefers to stay awake to change. She likes to innovate and is open to changing her style in the middle of a match if she is not happy.

“Anjum is a rhythm shooter, but not a compulsive one. She is also a very alert and intelligent shooter, which means she knows it when she is not shooting well; that is about as important as knowing to shoot well. She has her own systems to reach optimal performance. At this stage of her career, these processes are in her blood and she can shoot in her sleep. Whenever she feels she is not shooting well, she takes a pause. She checks if her position is fine. Then, she shoots a few dry shots and gets her rhythm back,” the coach adds.

From a girl whose reply to every inquisition of her shyness would be a terse ‘kya bolu’ (what do I say), to a stone-cold shooter whose simmering, silent excellence has made her one of the country’s medal hopefuls, Anjum Moudgil has had quite a ride. The NCC shooting camps in Chandigarh are a fading memory in her rearview; what lies ahead is the Asaka Shooting Range in Tokyo.

Moudgil sums up the mood in a manner that typifies her shooting. “I’ll be ready.”