As dusk falls and the azan by the muezzin of Jama Masjid hangs over Old Delhi, a bunch of friend sneak out from home, creeping along serpentine, winded alleys, trying their best to evade the family’s watchful eyes on their way to Meena Bazar. Amid the cracking of roasted groundnuts, the friends get ready to play pachisi, the game of the great Mughals.

But before the game can begin, the players have little battles to win. Fleeing from home is one just one of the tests of strength for the players whose faces are wrinkled, cheeks hollow and beards white. Yet, they exuberate great energy driving away urchins, drug addicts and stray animals from the site of the game.

Coast clear, the big mat is spread near the walls of Maulana Azad’s mausoleum. The game can begin any minute but there is a hassle. The moon is up, shining light on the mat but still, the old players cannot see clearly. The game requires little by way of equipment but the players complain nobody understands the romance of the game in the “modern times”. In a last-ditch effort, Babu Abdul Wazir persuades a betel seller again to switch on the bulb hanging over their mat.

He relents and the bulb lights up the playground. Without losing a moment, Muhammad Haji recites Bismillah Hir Rehman Nir Rahim, and rolls out the 1.5 x 2 feet embodied pachisi mat, taking its 16 gotis (counters) and seven cowries from a dirty cloth bag. Captain Islamuddin ensures that the plank — against which the cauris will be thrown — finds its right place.

... contd.