Locked in a stalemate
Binit Priyaranjan’s The Price of Genius starts with the name where the journey of Indian chess begins—Viswanathan Anand, India’s first Grandmaster. The anecdote of his encounter with an elderly person on a train journey, advising him “not to make a career out of chess”, gives the reader a sense of how niche and individual-driven chess once was. But much of it has changed in the last decade. The young chess prodigies of the day are celebrities, who are not just identified at airports, but papped by photographers, shown on the billboard, and adored by millions of Indians. And Priyaranjan’s book attempts to document this change, telling the reader how “chess is a demanding mistress”.
It’s not just another sports book, but a deep and thoughtful look into the lives of India’s chess prodigies, the ‘Fab Four’—R Praggnanandhaa, Nihal Sarin, D Gukesh, and Arjun Erigaisi— whose names have become synonymous with India’s rise on the global chess map. Priyaranjan, through his extensive reporting and interviews, peels back the life behind the glamorous chase for trophies to give the real cost of excellence.
The first chapter sets the stage not with an individual triumph, but with a shift in India’s chess culture. After the era of Viswanathan and the explosion of interest in chess during the pandemic, sparked partly by the Internet and the Netflix drama The Queen’s Gambit, and partly by the arrival of chess prodigies in the Indian chess scene. Priyaranjan compares this surge to a nuclear explosion, showing how a once elite sport became part of mainstream aspiration.
The book gives us a sense of how the singular pursuit of excellence in chess comes at a high opportunity cost. And how, at times, the life of these prodigies becomes “a live experiment in optimisation between formal education and sport, passion and security, and giftedness and a carefree childhood.” What stands out most is how Priyaranjan balances admiration with honesty: he neither romanticises them as untouchable geniuses nor reduces them to mere pieces on a board.
In one memorable instance, the author recounts a young Praggnanandhaa’s outplaying the Filipino-American Grandmaster, GM Wesley, in what may have been one of the most unlikely wins. The narrative then explores how the life of a young chess player pursuing sporting greatness approximates that of a monk, demanding ethics, discipline, and sacrifice.
A particularly powerful thread is how the book addresses internal challenges—the mental and emotional calculus that children make when they choose chess over the carefree experiences of youth.
If you’re drawn to stories of what lies beneath the spotlight, this book is for you. Written without any jargon, it appeals to anyone curious about how exceptional talent is nurtured, challenged, and sometimes pushed to the edge by expectation and ambition. The book stands out because it is about people first, and chess second.