Myparents did not give us traditional toys, cars, or dolls. Instead, they introduced games that had far-reaching creative and practical values.
I grew up in a house with gaming sets.
I was the eldest in the family, with a sister four years younger and a kid brother eight years younger.
These images are from the original board games saved and secured by my parents for posterity. Ludo, Snake & Ladders, Adam’s Peak climb and Yala Safari game sets. The original sets are now held in Sydney.
Ludo, Snake and ladders, Adam’s peak climb and a Safari game; these board games were easy to play with a single dice. Busting our boredom in the afternoons, I played almost every day with my sister and kid brother, often until sunset.
After a while, my father brought a set of chess. I loved the wooden box with chess pieces, kings, rooks, bishops, queens, knights, and pawns. My father sat me down and explained the rules. They were complicated, with different rules for each piece’s movements.
The original chess set that we played with. It is now a family treasure held by my brother in Winnipeg.
Surrendering pawns, rooks, and bishops to protect your knights, queen, and king was a skill of its own. For a boy to figure out the gimmick of letting go of his low-value pieces, learning the rules of battle was a great way to grasp strategic moves. It was like playing a 6D game today — massive warfare on a wooden board with your troops and commanders.
One had to take time to make your move, unlike the board games we played earlier with dice. Now “checkmate” was the keyword.
My father and I played chess in the evenings when he returned from work almost daily. My younger siblings were too young to play chess. My sister was not interested in the game, preferring easy games of Ludo and snake and ladders played with dice.
Not so, my kid brother. He pesters me to allow him to play chess with me after school. I did not think he could pick these complicated rules of chess. I discouraged him hoping to teach him when he was a bit older. My brother would not relent; I ignored him.
Then my kid brother asked my father to teach him to play chess. My father, too, postponed because everyone thought my kid brother was too young to learn a sophisticated game like chess. How could a little kid play chess?
My brother kept hounding my father to let him learn the game. Finally, my father relented, and to everyone’s surprise, my brother learned the game quickly.
Soon, my brother and I started playing chess after school. In the early days, I defeated him easily.
Day by day, my kid brother improved his game. He was a crafty mover. He found innovative ways in movements, deflecting me and taking me by surprise. He kept on improving his game all the time, to my dismay. I could still beat him, but getting the better of him was a challenge. He played beyond his age.
That was not the end of chess with my kid brother. Within a month or two, he started beating me in chess. I could not believe it. It was a major embarrassment now. He kept on improving his tactics. However, much I tried, I could not defeat him. He perfected master moves, moves I could not even think of. Eventually, I gave up.
We had a child prodigy at home. He was my kid brother, too young to beat his elder brother at his game.
That was not the end of our child prodigy at home. When I went to Dubai in my early twenties, my brother was thirteen. On my first trip back from Dubai, I brought him a Rubik’s cube, the puzzle craze of the seventies. My brother could solve the puzzle in no time, probably under a minute. It would have taken me at least half an hour what he could do only in a minute. Many in Sri Lanka did not know about Rubik’s cube then, and if there was a competition, he could have been the island’s junior champion of speedcubers.
Many years later, I think of those classic times when my kid brother, who eventually became an outstanding scholar and an engineering scientist in North America, was way too good for his big brother and could beat him on a whim.
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