When Surfline posted a small barrel clip from Mahabalipuram a couple of months ago, the comments section turned into a digital battleground – outsiders mocking the wave, Indians defending their coastline, and a surprising amount of uncalled-for racism. The video carried a simple statement, “What’s it like surfing in India” but the worst comments leaned on predictable stereotypes: “I can smell the inside of those barrels from here,” or “I can just feel the giardia and skin infections now,” and other jabs suggesting that surfing here means dodging more than just sections. The clip was from the gorgeous summer swell that lights up the east coast every year from June to September, a season where you can legitimately pull out almost every board in your quiver. Just weeks before that video surfaced, the same break had hosted the Asian Surfing Championship, a federation-led competition for Asian nations and an official qualifier for the Asian Games.
Obliviousness was the first thing that hit me as I scrolled through the comments. You had Indian surfers patiently and impatiently explaining that India’s surf doesn’t begin and end with this one clip, and others breaking down the science of why the water isn’t crystal blue (and why it has nothing to do with sewage, despite what some imagined might be “thrown onto them in the barrel”). And even in the few moments where it felt like people were finally acknowledging an Indian wave on a global surf platform, the takeaway kept circling back to the same idea: this is what you get until you build a “proper surf culture.”
The more I read, the clearer it became that “proper surf culture” is less a fixed benchmark and more a reflection of what the global surf world has been historically exposed to. For decades, mainstream surf media has centred three templates — Hawaii, Australia, and California — shaping an unconscious baseline for what waves, water, and lineups are supposed to look like. When a place like India doesn’t visually or culturally match those familiar narratives, the instinct isn’t always curiosity; it’s often dismissal. Not out of malice, but maybe because the reference points are still limited.
And Brazil’s evolution shows how familiar this pattern actually is. For years, Brazil’s waves were ridiculed for the colour of the water, the beachbreak chaos, the urban coastline — as if a surf culture’s legitimacy was tied to how photogenic its water looked. But once the Brazilian Storm came in and athletes started dominating, everything shifted. Suddenly those same brown beachbreaks were celebrated for producing champions. The coastline didn’t suddenly become turquoise; the world simply learned how to see it differently. Brazil and India undeniably have environmental challenges to address – Rio’s polluted waters became part of the global surf conversation years ago, with well-publicised cases of surfers falling sick. India, however, hasn’t been subject to that level of investigation or reporting yet, a reminder that when a coastline isn’t closely studied, the internet becomes the loudest source of information, and oftentimes not accurate.
So, what’s interesting is that India already attracts a steady stream of surf-curious travellers through a completely different door: yoga, wellness, and slow-travel culture. Places like Kerala, Goa, and even Auroville draw people who may not have come for the surf, but end up paddling out because the rhythm of the place nudges them towards it. That’s a very different entry point compared to countries where surf culture grew around hyper-competitive lineups. And alongside that softer pathway, there’s a parallel push happening within India by the federation, one focused on building athletes, raising competitive standards, and understanding how a coastline can be shaped for performance.
The internet isn’t always the most reliable gauge of surf knowledge, but it does reveal how India is currently placed in the global imagination. And it does provide a moment to reflect on where Indian surf culture is actually heading. And the truth is, it is heading somewhere.
