On the flight from Shanghai to the resort of Sanya, I found myself struggling with a bit of an internal debate. Was I really looking forward to the postcard-perfect sun, surf and sand of Hainan Island, or was I really prepared for the intensity of the first Asian Beach Games I’d ever attended?
As the plane banked onto the runway beyond the bay, the view below was, frankly, deceiving. Clusters of private yachts lined the jetties like expensive toys, radiating that polished, untouchable aura of a rich man’s playground. But the illusion of a relaxing vacation did not survive the first hour. Once I was actually on the ground, the sand shifted beneath my feet to reveal a much harsher and more honest reality.
Sanya is often marketed as the “Hawaii of the East”, the place to go to relax. But for the 31-member Indian contingent and their continental peers at the 2026 Asian Beach Games (April 22-30), the white sands of Phoenix Island were no holiday destination. If you had to distill the entire essence of gaming into a single word, it would be dross.
To the uninitiated, beach sports are often dismissed with a sneer. We tend to associate the word “beach” with holidays, long breaks and putting our feet up. But after spending a few days watching everything from handball and water polo to beach athletics under a relentless and merciless sun, perspective changes quickly. It became clear very quickly that the sand was not just a surface; it is a test of the human spirit.
In tennis, we obsess over the nuances of clay versus grass. Why should sand be treated differently? Scientifically speaking, running on sand requires almost twice as much energy as running on stable ground. Every step you take is met with resistance, and every takeoff for a long or high jump is like playing poker against the instability of the sand. Boonson set the scene on fire with his performance (Credit: Sundeep Misra)
Take the Aquathlon, which forced athletes to transition from the pounding, rhythmic pace of road running to the surging waves of the sea. Or check out Beach Athletics, where it was an absolute marvel to watch Thai sprinting sensation Puripol Boonson, the only Southeast Asian to break the 10-second mark in the 100m (she clocked 9.94 at the 2025 SEA Games).
Even on the sand, which was rolled and flattened, his speed required a kind of feline precision. On a synthetic track, you can count on the surface to give you something back, a bit of bounce to help you on the next step. If you dig your heels in too deep on the sand, the beach will simply eat away at your momentum. Running on sand requires double the effort compared to running on a stable track (Courtesy: Sundeep Misra)
While the scoreboards are here to dictate history, it was raw human emotion that truly defined the atmosphere in Sanya. I saw Hassan Ajamibakhtiarvand, Iran’s shot put gold medalist, completely fall apart. Here was a man built like a mountain, but collapsed into the sand after a winning throw of 20.17m.
His tears weren’t really celebrating; they were the tears of a man representing a nation in deep turmoil. I remembered the words of the Iranian poet Ahmad Shamlou: “The mountain is not separated from the earth.” On that beach, Ajamibakhtiarvand was the mountain, and he carried the emotional weight of Iran’s struggle. Hassan Ajamibakhtiarvand bore the brunt of Iran’s fightback for a sensational victory (Courtesy: Sundeep Misra)
In stark contrast was the pure ecstasy of Sri Lanka’s Nipuni Hewa Pedige. After winning gold in the 50kg Beach Wrestling, the Air Force athlete didn’t just celebrate; she placed her medal around her trainer’s neck and touched his feet in a gesture of deep respect. In that fleeting moment, even the waves seemed to still. This spell of gratitude was as grand and significant as any Olympic stadium in Paris or Los Angeles.
For the Indian contingent, the sand has taught us that it offers lessons beyond the world in which we train and compete. Led by Ritu, the women’s Kabaddi team showed everyone why they are the best. In a thrilling final against a resilient Sri Lankan side, they overcame a narrow half-time deficit to cruise to a 47-31 victory to secure their sixth successive crown.
“We never play on sand, so this victory is really satisfying,” remarked Ritu after the final, already looking ahead to the next Asian Games.
However, the story took a different turn for Brijendra Singh Choudhary’s men’s squad. Despite a dominant run to the final, including a crushing 50-27 victory over rivals Pakistan, they faced a ferocious Iran side and eventually lost 44-31. Brijendra’s post-match reflection was honest and eloquent,
“Sometimes we take the surface for granted.”
It was an honest admission that perhaps somewhere in the back of their minds they didn’t allow themselves sand or the incredible adaptability of Iranians to it.
The sand courts also produced some of India’s “toughest” individual performances. Priya (+70kg) grabbed a gutsy, late 3-2 victory over Mongolia’s Zorigt, her face etched with the kind of exhaustion only sand can induce. Meanwhile, Pushpa Yadav (60kg) put on a show against local favorite Mengyu Xie of China as she blanked 3-0 in a display of endurance that silenced the home crowd.
But the most notable lessons from Sanya lay far beyond the final medal tally, which, for the record, saw hosts China top the table with 55 medals (24 gold, 18 silver, 13 bronze), while India finished sixth with 6 medals (3 gold, 2 silver, 1 bronze). Grit was the word that defined Asian beach games Sundeep Misra
Watching athletes from Palestine, Iran and Lebanon compete while their home nations literally burned was a life manual of resilience. Most of us feel a rush of genuine anxiety if our flight is delayed by an hour; these competitors live in a reality where every ring of their phone can bring devastating, life-changing news.
On the sand, winning and losing take on a completely different dimension. It acts as a balm, when after the match you can hug your opponent and leave with your head held high. It is not always about shared dignity, especially for those who come from broken countries.
Sand is our most natural and least expensive resource, and given the success we’ve seen in Sanya, there’s a compelling case for doing more with it. Imagine the Asian Beach Athletics Championships or special beach events for wrestling and boxing that become separate tournaments within different national associations. Infrastructure is given by nature.
These games showed that sport is not an escape from life’s hardships; it’s where you really confront and overcome them. Whether it was the Qatari pair of world stars Samba Cherif and Janko Ahmed, the Asian Games champions and Tokyo Olympic bronze medalists, who turned beach volleyball into a rock-and-roll spectacle, or the Indian wrestler who dug her toes into the grain for one final takedown, the message was clear. Sand is not just another surface. He is your ally. And it exposes your audacity.
– The end
Published on:
May 9, 2026 1:37 PM IST
