CHENNAI : As I write this article, it’s raining in Chennai again. Today, rain in Chennai has become something to fear, for it triggers memories of floods and more. When I was growing up, the rain meant playing indoors and a whole different kind of fun.
There were many games we had bought from the store — the old favourites — carrom, cards, Monopoly or Trade, the westernised Snakes and Ladders, Ludo, and a few others. But sometimes it just wasn’t enough, and we would make up our own games.
I would like to think that our forefathers were in much the same boat when it rained. Except, they didn’t have stores to go to. They didn’t have shops to buy their games. So, all their games were invented. And all their game pieces were perhaps made by them or found by them around the house.
There is a certain charm in picturing our grandparents and great grandparents, a group of ragged little children, sitting around and coming up with interesting games to play. The picture reminds me that our grandparents were once young like us and played like us. Suddenly, the age gap seems less. The generation gap feels less.
One of my all-time favourite games is the Gilli Danda. I find it incredible that, somebody invented a game with just two sticks. The physics of it, the dynamics of it, of tapping a peg with a stick and having it pop up in the air and then striking it — it is all so unique and wonderful.
The other thing that fascinates me about the game, is that it’s not just about how far you hit the gilli or how many times you hit the gilli when it is air borne. I am fascinated by the interesting twist in the rule, where you have to estimate how far you have hit the gilli, and either overestimating or underestimating loses your points.
How did a group of ragged young children think of such a wonderful concept that many of us apply in our day-to-day life at work — setting goals and trying to achieve them. To me, the Gilli Danda is truly a unique invention — I don’t think I have the creativity to have come up with a game like that! Sadly, the Gilli Danda fell into disfavour. Hand whittled gillies with sharp edges, cost many an eye and the game lost popularity.
When I started working on reviving games, it was a goal of mine to bring the Gilli Danda back. Slightly rounded edges with a better finish made it safer to play. In all the events conducted, people enthusiastically tried the Gilli Danda’s and tried hard to master the skill, which requires tremendous hand-eye coordination. I even had a gentleman narrate a story of how he took a Gilli Danda to Canada and while playing in the park gathered a number of curious onlookers who all wanted one when he next visited India! As I sit here watching the rain, one incident stands out in my mind. A few years ago, we conducted a Grandparents Day event at a school.
The children and their grandparents played happily together. But one grandfather was so excited on seeing the Gilli Danda, he tucked up his veshti and was enjoying the game. After some time, one of our volunteers stepped in to suggest that he give his grandson a chance to play. The grandson stopped our volunteer and said, “No! Don’t stop him. I have never seen my thatha (grandfather) play like a child!”And therein lies the secret — they were young once too!