As the Valentine’s Day wishes fade, it is interesting to think about the element of romance in traditional games. One of the loveliest stories in this aspect comes from the Ramayana. When Sita is lost, and Lakshmana is searching for her, the monkeys show him Sita’s ring. Lakshmana then recounts how Rama and Sita used to play together on the banks of the river by burying the ring in the sand and challenging each other to find it. This story paints a charming picture of a young couple in love.
In another delightful vignette composed by Thyagaraja, set in the Raga Pratapavarali, is Vinanaasakoni, where the devotee talks about the loving looks exchanged by Rama and Sita over a game of 'Vamanaguntulu' (the Telugu name for Pallanguzhi).
But not all love stories about games and toys are from India, and not all of them end on a happy note. Hans Christian Anderson in his short story, The Top and the Ball, captures many layers of emotions. The story is about two toys kept in a drawer: a wooden spinning top and a leather ball. The top falls deeply in love with the ball and asks her to marry him. The ball, proud of her fine leather and cork core, looks down on the top and refuses him, believing she deserves someone better. One day, the ball is taken outside to play. She is thrown high into the air and disappears. The top, unable to find her, imagines that she has married a swallow and now lives in a bird’s nest. Over time, this imagined loss only makes his love stronger. Years later, the top is polished and gilded, becoming more splendid than ever. By chance, he spins into a dustbin, and there finds the ball again — now faded, damaged, and unrecognisable. The ball does not remember the top and talks only of her former elegance. At that moment, the top is rescued and taken back into the house, while the ball is left behind.
With Shivaratri celebrated on Sunday, I have to share my personal favourite — stories of Shiva and Parvati playing dice. In many, Parvathi wins, resulting in a quarrel. There are also moments of love in between these spats. Poets have written about these feelings, but no one says it better than this one:
I’ ll pay up what I owe you,
all the kisses you won at dice.
But what’s the rush?
You clever man, your eagerness is misplaced. Under our terms,
I have a period of grace,
a hundred days and nights.
That’s what she said, while Siva
Was already blinking his eyes…
the sun and moon…
and at every blink a day
was over.