Nikita Nair, a fencer for La Jolla Country Day School, didn’t really want to be a princess. But she did become interested in sword-fighting because of the movie “Princess Bride.”
“I’ve always been interested in fairy tales,” says the 16-year-old sophomore. “Not necessarily the princess side, but the knight side.” She was intrigued by the competitive aspect.
When she enrolled at LJCDS as a seventh-grader, she says she asked about fencing as a class. She was told about the three-month-a-year program through coach Tedd Padgitt, and now, three years later, she fences year-round.
“It’s like chess,” she says of the sport, which is included in Olympic competition. “You’re analyzing your opponent the whole time. You want to know your opponent’s move before he does.”
Demonstrating a parry-riposte on the cement walk outside the Torrey gym on a recent school day, the articulate Nair (‘Nair,’ ‘nye-er’, rhymes with ‘fire’, she explains) blocks her opponent’s attack, then attacks back.
She explains right of way in foil fencing, the type of fencing she practices: The combatant who was moving first is rewarded with a hit, even if her opponent stabs back and records an electronic hit first.
“Fencing is beautiful,” the 5-foot-4-inches tall Nair explains, “but not beautiful like ice skating or gymnastics. It’s aesthetic. The sport is intellectual because it is all about thinking what the other person is going to do.”
It’s the mental game within foil, and the competition that fascinates Nair, who is the middle daughter of three: Ankita, 19, Nikita, and Eshi, 13. Nair is the runt of the litter, the shortest one, so she says there is a joke among them: “When my younger sister turns 21, there’s a bet whoever is the tallest wins $50. But I’m already out of the running.”
Mom and dad, Kusum Sharma and Anoop Karippot, are both doctors born in India. Nikita’s name (“Have you heard of Nikita Khrushchev, the Russian Cold War leader?” “Yes”) means “unstoppable” and “victorious” in Hindi, and the compact fencer seems intent on making that be true as she pursues her sport.
Evincing a maturity beyond her years, Nair is an able ambassador for foil, which uses the smallest guard on the sword’s handle of the three Olympic fencing sports, foil, saber, and epee. Fencing has its background in France, when duels of honor were to the death. “Later, duels changed to only drawing first blood,” she relates. In foil, attacks in vital organ areas receive points, while in saber a fighter can gain points by hitting a wider range of body surfaces.
“From a watching standpoint,” Nair says, “all you see is the two combatants. There aren’t words exchanged. Each person is analyzing the other. Everything happens quickly.
“Someone said (I read a fun fact) the point of the foil (sword) is the second-fastest moving object in the Olympics. The fastest is a bullet (in the rifle events).”
Asked her strengths in foil, she says, “I’ve been told on the offense I’m very aggressive toward the opponent.”
“One of my favorite things to do is disengage: You attack. Your opponent is going to parry. Then you disengage, you move your sword under their blade to avoid her making contact.”
Nair enjoys science, and is in her third year of studying Mandarin.