MMA

The city of Mumbai was still bustling with people as the evening sun began to set, painting the sky a beautiful orange-pink color.

Ayaan sat behind the old man on a scooter, enjoying the breeze against his face as they made their way to a boxing gym where a district tournament was taking place. He was ecstatic at the prospect of witnessing a live official fight and was looking forward to the experience.

The journey to the gymnasium took an hour, with the old man expertly maneuvering through the congested traffic.

As they got closer to the gymnasium, he couldn't help but stare at the impressive oval-shaped structure that stood before him. He craned his neck to take it all in, awestruck by its sheer size and grandeur.

"Come, follow me." The old man said.

Ayaan hurriedly followed the old man through the gymnasium's grand entrance. His eyes widened as he noticed multiple boxing rings scattered throughout the large area, as well as the cacophony of fighters and spectators all around.

But, in the midst of the chaos, his attention was drawn to a single ring surrounded by a throng of people cheering and shouting with delight.

Ayaan followed the old man as they made their way toward the crowd gathered around one of the rings.

As they approached, the old man directed them to a spot in the stands from which they could watch the action. They took their seats and stared intently without saying anything.

"Today is the final match of the district tournament; this is the junior division.

"You have to be around 17-18 years old to participate in this category; there is also a different weight class, but you should not pay attention to it for now."

"Just watch the match for now." The old man said.

Ayaan's ears perked up, and he leaned in, listening intently to everything the old man said. His gaze was drawn to the ring, where two fighters of his age were engaged in combat.

He observed the roaring audience as the two fighters battled it out in the ring. Several thoughts raced through his mind, but he decided to postpone his questions until later.

A few minutes later, the match ended with one of the guys landing a knockout punch on his opponent, claiming victory.

"I know you have a lot of questions, so ask now."

"Why didn't they use their legs, elbows, or knees? This was different from what I watched."

"The match you watched was MMA, this is boxing."

"So why did you bring me here, old man? I don't want to do this. I want the real fight."

"Do you think fighting in the Octagon is so easy, rascal?" The old man raised his voice a little.

"There is no proper way for Indians to fight in the Octagon. To fight in the Octagon, you need results in other MMA competitions.

"To participate in other MMA competitions, you need some fighting results. This boxing is the best way for us to get a ticket for those competitions.

"You don't understand how much struggle and hard work you will need to land a single match in those competitions.

"I have a way to get you in those leagues, but for that, you need to have records in the National Tournament in boxing."

Ayaan locked his gaze on the elderly man for a few moments, realizing that this elderly man was his only hope of realizing his dreams.

"Okay! I will do it."

"Good. I will see whether you are working hard and seriously for it. If you don't show me the results, kids, you can pack your bags and go back to the slums where you came from.

Ayaan nodded his head in response.

As they rode back to the gym, the old man stopped to pick up some more eggs. They sat down for dinner at the cabin, and Ayaan ate like a beast once more, pairing his meal with the eggs.

Tomorrow would be a big day for him because he had to get up early and clean the gym and toilets before his real training began. Ayaan knew he needed to be in top shape and was determined to put in the effort.

"You can sleep in the storage room on the terrace. Make sure you wake up early tomorrow."

"Yes sir."

"No, sir, I am your coach now."

"Yes, coach."

"Good, now I am going home. See you tomorrow, kid."

As the night progressed, the old man said his goodbyes to Ayaan and locked the gym before hopping on his scooter and riding off into the night.

He noticed a small room and decided to go in as he made his way upstairs towards the terrace. When he opened the door, he noticed that dust had accumulated everywhere, itching his nose and making him cough.

His hands moved as he wiped away the dust, and the room gradually revealed itself. There was only one bed in the cramped quarters, and cardboard boxes were strewn about.

Despite its small size, the room had a small window with a view of the outside world, as well as a tiny ceiling fan and a single bulb dangling from the ceiling.

Ayaan couldn't help but smile as he looked around the small room. Even though there was only one bed and cardboard boxes everywhere, it felt like a paradise to him.

While some might dismiss it as a low-quality room and refuse to stay, Ayaan found it to be the ideal place to rest his head.

He jumped onto the bed, sinking into the mattress's softness. He closed his eyes, giving in to the exhaustion of the day. He was aware that tomorrow marked the beginning of his journey to the Octagon. But for the time being, he was content to let sleep take over and prepare him for the grueling training ahead.

Meanwhile...

The old man reached the apartment building, climbed up the stairs, and reached his flat on the middle floor. As he unlocked the door, his wife greeted him with a smile and welcomed him inside their cozy home.

"Why did you come late today? Did you find something special to do?" His wife asked while bringing him a glass of water.

The old man sank into the sofa and reached for the glass of water his wife offered him. With a single gulp, he emptied it and spoke, "I thought that I left my old life behind and was not ready to teach anyone after that incident."

"But I found someone, Shanta. I found a boy who has nothing to lose. His eyes were like a deep abyss, wanting to consume everything in their path.

"You know, Shanta, he said he wants to fight in the Octagon. If some other person have said that on my face, I would have smacked his ass.

"But this boy is different; I can see the seriousness in him. I want to train him, Shanta; I want to see him on top, making his way towards the Octagon."