The Queen and the Chessmen

I was starting to become very impatient, with the never-ending grown-up conversation over tea and savory snacks. I was probably six or seven years old and had accompanied my grandmother to visit my Aunty’s parents. In the house full of senior citizens my attraction was the chessmen I had seen Anna (pronounced u-nna), my Aunt's father, play with the last time we had briefly stopped by at their place. So this time when my grandmother asked me if I would like to join her, I jumped at the idea. The beautifully moulded coins - the king, horses, castles, soldiers - were so fascinating, that it did not matter I would not have any human playmates. Once there, I had looked around the room we were in, and sneaked to other rooms looking for the box of chess coins, but could not find them anywhere. Finally I mustered enough courage to ask, but did not know what they were called. Eventually the description of the tiny horses and castles led me to that day’s prized possession!

I felt the moulded pieces with my fingers and put them out on the board. He called the game “Buddhi-bala” (literally translated as “Strength of Mind”) or “Shatranj” as it is also called. Among all the enchanting pieces, I learned about the one that was the most powerful, and he called it the “Wazir” or the Prime Minister. Before I knew it, it was time to leave my beloved pieces behind. Disappointed, but determined, I chanted the name of the game in my head all the way home so I could ask my parents about it. Somehow, back home, the logistics of getting the game floated away behind daily priorities as I tucked away my unrequited love in the corner of my mind.

Fast forward a few years and our paths crossed again. I was spending the summer at my maternal grandmother’s house. One day, a bunch of my older cousins were sprawled in the balcony at my Uncle’s place. And there in the middle, was the board with the majestic chessmen! I was just getting to know my cousins. So I waited patiently watching as they deftly moved the coins and speaking intimidating chess jargon. It was a long game and slowly the crowd was thinning. By the end of it, I was one of the few kids left. I yelled a huge, silent “Yesssss!!” in my head when, finally, a couple of my older cousins offered to teach me the game!

My cousins taught me the basic moves. But there were a few differences from my last learning. They called the game chess, and the pieces - pawns, knight, bishop, and castle where I had known them as soldiers, horse, camel and elephant. And there was one huge inconsistency. They called what I had previously known as the Wazir - the Queen - the most powerful piece! It was confusing, but I kind of found it interesting that the Queen carried so much power. After learning the basic steps, I was told that the more I played, the more I would pick up the game.

Back home I nagged my parents to get us a chess set. The set arrived, though chess was a big time sink for a lot of people, and it was hard to find partners to play with. There weren’t any camps or coaches or tournaments I was aware of where we lived. As luck would have it, I found a fantastic partner in my great-aunt. She had retired recently and looking for interesting ways to spend her time. She had already broken every stereotype of a typical Indian woman, in every way - she never married, lived independently and worked as a Director after becoming a doctor, travelled the world alone, triumphed over illnesses like cancer and stroke, drove all around town using her good left hand, and never lost a chance to have a good peg of scotch when she had company. When she came forward to play chess with me, I wasn’t surprised.

She, my cousin and I became the all female chess squad in the household, that people would endearingly call “Shatranj ke Khiladi” over the famous Bollywood movie based on Munshi Premchand’s short story. She explained to me the source of Wazir came from Shatranj, whereas in modern chess the Queen became all powerful, she guessed, following the European monarchy. Over the years as we spent hundreds of hours playing, sort of growing and learning from each other, though we never became tournament material, chess became an important part of our lives. Of all the people who taught me, she was the Queen with her grit, her “never say never” attitude, and her love to live her life to the fullest. If the chessmen were my devoted friends, the Queen undoubtedly took the crown!

Scene from "Shatranj ke Khiladi"