Game of Carroms
The Carrom board- a simple square board with horizontal, circle, and diagonal markings in black and red often adorned in a circular formation by 9 black coins and 9 white (cream) coins and a majestic red coin - the queen; one heavy, decorative striker. This game has many monikers like ‘finger pool’, ‘poor man’s billiards’, and ‘strike and pocket’.
Nicknames aside, to me, carrom is not just a game; it’s a complete tutorial about working with a team, developing a strong personality and character, strategizing, and moving beyond winning!
The root of my carrom experiences go back into the 1980's, when my peer group was between 8-10 years old. Summer months was about eating mangoes, making our own version of lemonade, pouring water on the hot ground at the peak of the afternoon, and watch it sizzle and evaporate.
If we were lucky, someone would lend us an Amar Chitra Katha comic, or a Chandamama, which was devoured in a day. There was not enough holiday homework to keep us occupied for a month. School and school activities were best forgotten until a day before reopening.
One summer holiday, my father brought home a big bulky object all wrapped in newspapers. He quietly pushed it under the bed and waited for us to finish our dinner before unwrapping it. Back in those days children didn’t need an invitation to check out a ‘new thing’.
In fact, they would have already gathered in the house even as my father was getting it out of the rickshaw (most popular and only means of affordable, private transport).
My father loved a grand audience and enjoyed making us wait, like a magician holding off the magic trick. After all the newspapers were neatly removed (he was at times painfully disciplined), we were staring at this thick edged, black bordered, square board with four netted pockets; a sunken plank with red and black lines, marked circles; and a neatly packed box with coins: 9 black, 9 white (cream) and one red(queen), and 2 thick strikers.
What followed after that moment was total mayhem! It was like giving a barrel of monkeys one coconut. After a few disciplinary sessions from my father, we were taught the game. We played carroms for decades, and along with our game our personalities also evolved.
The adolescents:
The first game was a basic vanilla version: rupees and coins. The player could strike and sink any coin into any pocket, and whoever pocketed the most number of coins was declared the winner. Red coin had the highest value.
Our game was completely disorganized, unmethodical, and muddled. It was an erratic striking away at any coin in sight, with no plan or process; the red coin was the most coveted. “Get the red!” was every player's chant.
It was unacceptably accepted for one player to detract another player’s coins away from the pocket. We also conjured some gibberish words and cast 'spells' . God forbid, if it actually worked!! Coins were slammed on the board and fist fights ensued.
Rules were made by the winner and it kept changing with every game. We were feverishly absorbed about winning, so we get to make the rules.
For some, if the game wasn’t going their way they abandoned it midway, because losing was a shameful thing. Some others gave their full unabridged performance despite their impending defeat, and they always returned the next day determined to win.
That was adolescence in action - go-getters, competitive, and domineering. There was a frenzied enthusiasm to secure the most valuable and attractive object (symbol of success).
Winning was in numbers and the adrenalin rush in the momentary joy of the win, was all that mattered.
Little adults:
In the summer years that followed, when we played the board, it was a more matured scene. We learnt to study the board and position of the coins. Along with some techniques and strategies, we were taught common rules that applied to all.
It was a team effort and we worked with our team-mate to discuss ‘legal’ ways to block the opponents’ coins.
When an opportunity to sink a coin was missed, tempers, and sometimes coins, flew between team-mates; but we learnt to cool things off.
Every player played by set rules - body movements were restricted to our allotted space, elbows were carefully observed, lest it should protrude into the neighboring air space.
Capturing the queen was still an important part of the win, but now the queen needed a follow-up coin. Planning the follow-up coin was sometimes more crucial than capturing the queen.
A point to ponder: a significant follower adds value to the leader.
This was the post adolescence age: the age of maturity. It was a phase of expectations and managing expectations - you try to win, but it was okay to lose. We built our pride on being worthy opponents.
Rules had to be respected and violations came with consequences. There was clarity in what we were trying to accomplish, as focus was on achieving what was assigned as ours.
Winning was still crucial and the end goal, but the quality of the game was equally important. Understanding and communicating with the team member and working with his/her strengths and weaknesses came as part of the lessons.
We learnt to lose gracefully, knowing that there would be more opportunities to succeed. ‘Why’ and ‘what for’ were important questions to be considered, if you wanted to stay ahead of the game.
Sometimes, when fights got out of control, we were counselled that it was ‘just a game’ and that friendships were more important than winning.
Carroms with an adult added a new dimension to our learning experience. Watching an adult play the game was a fascinating scene. They took time to assess the position of the coins, and used form and techniques to pocket them. There was poise in their body movements, and calmness in their strikes.
During that phase, we learnt that a game was not just about winning; it was also an elegant show of skill, concentration and performance.
Contemplation and reflection:
We spent many such days mastering the game and the strikes. We thought that was all there was to it. Then one day, I saw my uncle, at the board, by himself. He had coins positioned in several places and was sinking them one at a time- carefully maneuvering them into the pockets. We watched with amazement as he waltzed the coins into the pocket. It was a new play and a fresh challenge.
Ultimately, in the game of life, the battle, and the competition is with ‘you vs. you.’ There is no better opponent or a better winner than yourself.
Carroms is a splendid game to learn valuable traits like patience, focus, team spirit, and motor skills. It’s been a while since I played carroms, but writing this article brought back all those wonderful childhood memories of the game.