Besides cricket and badminton, I played several traditional Indian games—mostly during my time in Delhi, though none in the now-famous Paharganj.

I flew kites a couple of times. Serious kite fliers engaged in battles to cut their opponent’s thread, sending kites adrift, with kids chasing them down. These threads were coated with ground glass and gum, making them sharp enough to cut hands. I managed to cut another kite’s thread once—without any such coating—and even captured a drifting kite. That marked the end of my kite-flying escapades. 

I also tried Gilli-Danda, a game involving a tapered wooden piece (the Gilli) and a longer stick (the danda). The goal was to hit the gilli into the air and strike it as far as possible. Despite my mother’s warnings about the risk of eye injuries, I gave it a shot—but my fear made my exit swift and drama-free. 

The game of tops (or lattu) engaged me the most. Players tried to knock each other’s tops out of a circle. The winner would hit the loser’s top with the nail at the base of their own, often breaking it. I once had my top shattered, my tears blurring behind my glasses, and vowed never to play again. 

I never ventured into marbles (*goli*), as I didn’t know the rules. 

In Chennai, these games were rare, if played at all. But I loved kabaddi—a game that tested my agility and breath control. It thrilled me every time I played, though it was uncommon in Chennai. 

One unique experience involved stilts, which my father bought for me. They were wooden poles with footrests. I mastered running on them, even alone and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. 

And with that, my adventures in Indian sports came to an end. 

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