Empty Hand Revolution

Battlefield

As the term rounded out and the autumn of Cosmo’s third year of university transitioned into winter, the knowledge of Cosmo’s prizefighting spread. If anything, the revelation increased his standing with his fellow students rather than hurt it. Enrollment in his Thaing class doubled, as did the students’ dedication.

On a cool December afternoon, Cosmo led his class through an active regimen of kicks and punches before pairing them off to spar. Over the last year, he’d recognized improvement in his students as well as his teaching. The less his instruction focused on the need to impart his skills, and the more it focused on bringing out his students’ abilities, the more fulfilling teaching became.

Besides, his reputation had spread so far he felt the need to play down his talent rather than highlight it. He glanced at his new watch to confirm what he already knew—the time had come to dismiss the class. “That’s good for today.”

A few of the sparring partners broke off instantly. Several others continued. As Cosmo collected his mat, one of the more talented male students approached him.

“Um, teacher?”

“Yes?” They exchanged bows.

“I hope this doesn’t come across wrong, but, uh…”

“Go ahead.” Cosmo nudged him.

“I was wondering if I could, this weekend…um, if I could watch you fight.”

Cosmo scratched the back of his neck. No one had openly asked him to attend a fight. Obviously this eager student didn’t understand how they worked. Then again, Cosmo hadn’t understood until he’d experienced it firsthand. “I’m sorry, it doesn’t work that way.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The student bowed again. “I didn’t mean—”

Cosmo smiled. “No offense taken. It’s just that, well, the events aren’t open to the general public. And I’m not in a position to make invitations.”

“I understand.”

Over the student’s shoulder Cosmo watched a large group of athletes assemble on the opposite side of the field. “You’re talented and disciplined. Keep working. Fight clubs aren’t for everyone.”

Dejected, the student bowed a final time and hurried off.

Cosmo glanced a second time across the cricket field. The group of thirty plus people spread into formation and unfurled flags—Hindu militants. Cosmo bristled. Class having ended, there was no need to fight over the field. Still, the arrogance of the Hindus offended him.

As the group marched toward Cosmo, he recognized their leader—a young man named Kumar. Cosmo had butted heads with the hot-tempered Indian on a dozen occasions. The last time, Cosmo’s class had been smaller and less skilled. This time he’d already dismissed them.

When Cosmo turned around, he discovered over a dozen of his students had lingered. Identifying his best three students and a handful more with promise, he deemed their force sufficient. The students shifted uncomfortably. He gave the thumbs up and motioned for them to stay put rather than clump up behind him.

As the militants drew close, Cosmo turned his attention to Kumar. A runt even smaller than Cosmo, Kumar made up for his size with scrap and determination. He may not have been a true believer, but he took joy in pushing people around. And he was disciplined.

The cricket squad and the wrestling team could no longer intimidate Cosmo’s class. All that remained was to teach Kumar’s militants a lesson. Then, Cosmo would dominate the most desired field during the most sought after time of the day.

Five meters away, Kumar raised his hand. The entire troop stopped on cue.

Cosmo thought it funny. “I like your socks.”

Kumar refused to look down at his knee high socks colored gold and red to match the flags they carried. A deity of some sort emblazoned the banners, but there wasn’t enough breeze to unfurl them.

Cosmo couldn’t identify the character and didn’t care to.

“We’ve used this field longer than you, and we’re claiming the space. So back off.” Kumar said.

Cosmo shrugged. “It’s a good thing you waited for half my class to leave.”

“I saw them run away when we arrived. Now you can do the same.”

Without turning around, Cosmo motioned a handful of his students to his right. As he did so, he scooped his toes beneath a dummy knife he’d brought for training purposes. “This way will be more embarrassing for you when you lose.”

Kumar gave the signal to advance.

Cosmo popped the heavy rubber knife into the air and caught it in a single motion.

Kumar hesitated a split second at the appearance of the knife.

Cosmo took full advantage. Slashing the dummy knife across Kumar’s chest, Cosmo spun and leapt. As Kumar stumbled backward, Cosmo caught him in the side of the head with his knee and threw him to the ground.

Maintaining his balance, Cosmo attacked the left side of the Hindu formation using Burmese Thaing. Despite the flimsy nature of the dummy knife, Thaing adapted well to street fighting, especially when facing multiple opponents. In this case, he bruised people instead of cutting them.

The last few weeks of class had focused on adapting traditional martial arts for fighting in the streets. This would be a perfect opportunity for his students to gain real life application. When the rules changed, technique had to follow. Otherwise a black belt meant nothing in the real world. Rule one: attack fast and constantly engage the next fighter.

Always keep moving.

Cosmo flashed in circular patterns, striking his attackers with both fist and foot. Occasionally, situation demanded he use a knee or his head. In general, he tried to keep the militants at arms’ length.

Their numbers dwindled until he was fighting only one or two at a time. Cosmo remained on the attack. Then, with a final elbow and forearm to a face, the fight ended. From beginning to end, it had taken maybe two minutes.

Cosmo checked a final time to ensure none of the militants planned on getting up. Then he scanned his class—four plus himself had remained in the fight. “Well done.” He bowed. They did the same. “Help the others. We all fought well today.”

One of his students had been dazed badly enough to need assistance off the field. The others were able to walk off under their own power. No one would need medical attention. At least, none of his students would.

Cosmo stayed behind to collect his mat and duffle. He waited for Kumar to struggle to his feet before turning to go. “Good try, my friend. Maybe next time you should bring different flags. But keep the socks. Those I like.”