I have been writing this column for almost two years now. The focus has been on traditional games, but today’s article is about something more basic and fundamental — the traditional practice of play.
It’s the summer holidays. I remember looking forward to them the entire year. It’s not that I did not enjoy school, I did. But summer holidays meant long, lazy days to read, play, and have fun without a plan or purpose. While I was growing up, there were no summer classes, so my days were free and unfettered.
Things have changed. With both parents working and often having no responsible adult at home, summer classes become a good way to keep children occupied and safe rather than being left alone. Do they have fun? Yes. Do they meet new friends and learn a lot? Yes.
But I do wonder what they lose. When did the focus of holidays change to learning new skills rather than long days of unstructured play? While this trend is alarming enough, I see another trend when I interact with people — a focus on learning through play. If a game can teach something quantifiable and specific, it is deemed appropriate. If you cannot outline the specific learning, it is deemed a waste of time.
Traditionally, people of all ages came together in the evenings and weekends to play. Today, adults barely play, and children will soon go in the same direction, for unstructured play is slowly but surely disappearing as more often than not, play is restricted to a class — cricket class or chess class, or others. It is considered important if you have a goal, such as winning a tournament or getting a prize.
What about just having fun? Long hours of laughter over a board game. Families playing together with no other purpose than fun and laughter.
Let’s not underestimate the value of play. Learning happens not based on a pre-set list of criteria or timeline. It happens naturally through osmosis, almost. But surely that cannot be the only driving factor.
Let’s share a memory:
‘My remembrance is that sixty-seventy years ago, much of the recreation and fun was within large undivided families. Games that were popular were the Dayakattam (Chaupad). The competition was fierce and noisy. Participation cut across generations, and sometimes neighbours would join in. Others would be active spectators, encouraging one side or the other. Over weekends, this would be a long session extending to a good 4-5 hours.’
These words from an elderly lady, well into her eighties, conjure up images of large and boisterous family gatherings on lazy, unstructured weekends with the entire family coming together — grey-haired grandparents, authoritative uncles, bustling aunts, and a brood of children. Surely, the game would be accompanied by copious amounts of hot coffee carefully poured into gleaming steel tumblers with just the right amount of froth, the steam rising lazily, and the aroma wafting all around. Perhaps, there would be a mound of bajjis or fritters gleaming golden brown and crisp with translucent onions or with melting soft potato slices. With the raised voices, the laughter, the mock fights that are all part of such a game, would be the ringing sound of the long brass dice rolling on the floor. It was not just the game but the entire spirit of tradition, of families and people coming together in a shared experience that create memories like this that will last a lifetime.
So why not stop just to play traditional games, but revive the traditional concept of playing. Families may be smaller, but with friends and neighbours, it could be just what the doctor ordered in today’s high-stress world. Just play!