In Indian culture, few characters are as universally condemned as Shakuni. He cheated at dice, influenced the Kauravas, and helped trigger the Mahabharata war. Yet, his enduring place in Indian storytelling lies elsewhere. He is one of the first people many children encounter who wins not through strength, goodness, or skill, but through manipulation.
Children grow up hearing stories about heroes and villains. They build up images of them and see them in stark black-and-white terms. But when they begin to play games, they encounter a different reality. Those who cheat aren’t really villains; they are just humans.
Not every player follows the rules. It could be the child who nudges a counter forward when nobody is looking, the cousin who mysteriously keeps score in their own favour, or the friend who confidently declares a rule that nobody has ever heard before.
Games are one of the few places where children can safely discover that unfairness exists. The strange thing about cheating is that it is almost as old as games themselves.
Our mythology and legends are full of stories of people who cheated, and the tales about cheating range from the silly to the outrageous.
Among the fascinating stories from Punjab about Raja Rasalu is one about his epic game of Chaupad with Raja Sirkap. Raja Rasalu is helped along the way by a headless man who warns him to use his own dice and his own horse that reminds him of this halfway through the game. Another unlikely helper was a little kitten who frightens away Dhol Raja, a pet rat of Raja Sirkap, which deftly moves game pieces to help him win!
This idea of using rats and mice to move game pieces is an enduring theme. Another story tells of a king who had two pet mice. Whenever the game was underway and he began to lose, he would call, “Sundari… Mundari...” and the mice would scurry out and move the game pieces.
Yet another story tells of a traveller who encountered a dice player. Whenever the game did not go his way, the player would hide one of the dice in his mouth while everyone looked for it!
Even Lord Shiva famously took Lord Vishnu’s help to influence the fall of his dice during a game with the Goddess Parvati.
Learning to play, therefore, involves something more than learning the rules. It involves learning to read people. Children watch hands hovering too long over the board. They notice suspiciously convenient dice rolls. They remember what was said three turns earlier. By the age of ten, many children learn how to spot cheating with remarkable skill.
Who can be trusted to keep score?
Who always “forgets” inconvenient rules?
Who is bluffing?
Who is genuinely mistaken?
Who is pushing boundaries just to see what they can get away with?
Traditional games were places where children practised these skills without realising it.
Perhaps that is why every game needs the occasional cheat. Not because cheating should be celebrated, but because recognising it is a skill. Long before children learn to read contracts, spot scams, or question half-truths, they learn to watch the player across the board and say, “Wait a minute. I don’t think that’s how the rule goes.”
A child who has never encountered cheating may be poorly prepared to face it in life. A child who has learnt to spot cheating across the game board has taken the first lesson in human nature.
The Mahabharata is not merely telling us that cheating exists. It is teaching us how easily intelligence, charm, and trust can be misused.
Games are one of the safest places in which children learn scepticism. Sometimes, you lose a turn, a marble, or a game of Chaupad. In return, you gain an understanding that will serve you far beyond the game board. The first lesson in human nature may not come from a classroom. It may come from a game.
