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Published Jan 16, 2026 | 5:25 PM ⚊ Updated Jan 16, 2026 | 5:25 PM
Pawan Kalyan in 'They call him OG'.
A Sunday in September 2025. Andhra Pradesh Deputy Chief Minister and film actor Pawan Kalyan was in Hyderabad, promoting his latest movie, They Call Him OG — or simply OG.
Apparently excited by the crowd that thronged to see the film star rather than the politician, Kalyan, in a sudden, unexpected move, swung a katana, or sword, and sent it swishing through the air Samurai-style, sans the focused swordsmanship. The blade narrowly missed a lucky bodyguard.
Barely four months after the incident, Kalyan received a rare honour: he as inducted into Kenjutsu, an ancient Japanese samurai swordsmanship tradition.
The honour put Kalyana, a self-proclaimed protector of the Sanatana dharma, in an elite club of very few people outside Japan — and the first Telugu-speaking ‘warrior’ to be inducted into Kenjutsu.
How Sanatana Dharma and samurai tradition share the same dojo may be a philosophical puzzle, but in Kalyan’s case, the two seem to have shaken hands quite comfortably. If contradictions had a brand ambassador, he would be it—and proudly so.
Kalyan has long been smitten with Oriental combat disciplines. He was earlier awarded the Fifth Dan rank (the equivalent of a black belt) by the Japanese martial arts organisation Sogo Budo Kanri—a rare distinction that made him the first Indian to receive it.
As if that wasn’t enough, the Golden Dragons Organisation went a step further and crowned him the “Tiger of Martial Arts”, citing his courage, discipline, and combat expertise. When it rains, it pours.
His passion for combat—real and reel—is well known. On screen, he is famously trigger-happy, and it is an open secret in film circles that a storyline stands a better chance of approval if it comes generously seasoned with gunfights. Plot holes? He’ll overlook them. Ammo shortage? That’s where he draws the line.
Perhaps this latest Kenjutsu honour is part of a grand personal synthesis—blending Sanatana spirit with Japanese steel to take on forces he believes are out to wipe Sanatana Dharma off the face of the earth.
When Kalyan speaks about Sanatana, restraint goes out of the window. The passion borders on theatrical—strikingly similar to the intensity with which he mows down villains on screen, whether with guns, fists, or now, swords.
The groundwork for this moment was laid early in life, when he began honing real-world sword combat skills and martial discipline. That long apprenticeship has repeatedly surfaced in his filmography through authentic action sequences in films such as Akkada Ammayi Ikkada Abbayi, Thammudu, Khushi, Annavaram, and most recently, They Call Him OG, where he plays a gangster who doubles up as a martial arts master, katana included.
Much like the BJP values his Sanatana credentials, Kalyan’s combat journey owes a great deal to his primary instructor, Hanshi Professor Dr. Siddiq Mahmoodi, a widely respected Indian authority on Budo (martial ways) and Kendo (Japanese fencing). Dr. Mahmoodi, born and raised in Hyderabad, has made the city a hub for martial arts, founding organisations and training centres that have quietly shaped generations of practitioners.
From dharma to dojo, guns to katanas, and cinema to statecraft, Kalyan continues to walk a tightrope—sometimes barefoot, sometimes with a sword in hand—but always with unmistakable flair.
