In a stunning fall from grace, Haryana — long revered as the cradle of Indian wrestling — now finds itself grappling with an ugly and deepening doping scandal that threatens to derail the sport’s credibility.
At the centre of the storm is 22-year-old Reetika Hooda, one of the country’s most promising female wrestlers and a multiple medallist at international events. Alongside two other athletes from the same Haryana-based akhara (traditional wrestling school), Reetika has tested positive for banned performance-enhancing substances, including anabolic steroid metabolites flagged by the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA).
All three have been provisionally suspended by the National Anti-Doping Agency (NADA), pending a hearing. The fallout has been swift. Wrestling Federation of India (WFI) president Sanjay Singh laid the blame squarely on the shoulders of local coaches in Haryana.
The akhara culture there is responsible for tarnishing the image of Indian wrestling.
But Singh’s words ring hollow for many within the wrestling community. Despite awareness campaigns conducted jointly with NADA, doping continues to plague Indian wrestling — and not just among adults. Of the 16 athletes provisionally suspended as of April 8, 2025, at least three are minors.
Veteran coach and Arjuna Awardee Kirpa Shankar Patel says the system is broken — corrupted by the lure of shortcuts to glory. “Unless the WFI takes strong corrective measures, doping will spiral out of control,” he warns. “Even minors are failing dope tests. That’s alarming.”
Patel recalls a chilling moment at the 2022 Khelo India Youth Games in Haryana — a flagship government initiative meant to nurture grassroots talent. “I walked into a washroom and was shocked to see two teenage wrestlers injecting themselves with syringes,” he says. “Is this what the future of Indian wrestling looks like?”
A similar incident occurred at a national meet in Uttar Pradesh three years ago, when a clogged drainage system was found to be caused by the careless disposal of syringes. That episode prompted the WFI to issue a stern circular promising rewards for those who report doping violations with evidence. But enforcement has since slackened.
The WFI’s efforts to crack down on doping took a backseat in 2023 when the federation was embroiled in a major governance crisis. Top Indian wrestlers — including Olympian and world medallist Vinesh Phogat — launched protests against former WFI chief Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh, alleging sexual harassment. The Ministry of Sports suspended the WFI and installed an ad-hoc panel.
With no national camps held in 2023 and 2024, wrestlers were left to train in their local akharas, often with little oversight. “No one was monitoring their supplements or practices,” a coach admitted. “Positive dope tests started showing up during selection trials.”
Food supplements, too, are under the scanner. While widely used for recovery, experts are concerned about unregulated products flooding the market. Ajmer Singh, coach of Olympian Sonam Malik, estimates nearly 60 percent of wrestlers use supplements — often from dubious sources.
I always advise young athletes to avoid anything from the local market. A simple diet of milk and seasonal produce is safer.
Wrestling legend Kartar Singh, who won Asian Games gold in 1978 and 1986, agrees. “In our day, it was milk, fruits, and nuts. No powders or pills,” he says from his home in Jalandhar.
Parents, too, are anxious. One Delhi-based father, whose daughter recently clinched gold at the Asian U20 Championships in Kyrgyzstan, says he steers clear of local supplements. “We get her bloodwork done quarterly and take expert guidance. We can’t afford to gamble with her future.”
Reetika, it is now known, listed more than six supplements on her doping control form. Her urine sample was collected during the national trials in March — a competition meant to select the team for the Asian Championships in Jordan.
She was also expected to lead India’s charge at the upcoming World Championships in Zagreb this September. But her dreams — and those of her coaches and fans — are now in limbo.
“She’s staring at a four-year ban,” says Ashok Ahuja, former head of the Sports Authority of India’s sports medicine centre. “Unless she can prove contamination, it’s an uphill battle.”
For a country that once celebrated Haryana’s akhara culture as a nursery of champions, this doping saga is a sobering reminder: the foundations are cracking. And unless there is swift, systemic change, Indian wrestling may find itself in a far deeper pit than any mat can offer redemption from.
