Finding Myself through Chess

My early childhood was characterized by frequent bouts of fever, multiple fractures, and highly under-developed motor skills. I was hesitant to try out anything new, uptight, nervous, and reticent. I needed to make a 180-degree change in the way I perceived myself and my capabilities in order to find inner strength enough to succeed.

That’s when my dad introduced me to chess.

Rather than being hesitant in my chess game, I found comfort in the whimsical worlds of the Danish and Budapest gambits, risky openings wherein players sacrifice pawns in order to gain advantage, leading to uncertain and complex positions. I played blindfolded games and delved into attacking and well-masked maneuvers. My younger sister and I started analyzing our chess games, recognizing patterns, expanding our opening repertoire, and trying to implement each other’s strengths in our own games.

After a while, analyzing and exchanging ideas with other players without needing a chessboard became natural. There was a lot of fun in this; we could speak about a certain game or position with the same ease with which we’d comment on a movie we’d watched the night before. This opened my mind and heart to new information, ideas, and points of view–not just in chess, but in life: I learned how to be more respectful of others’ opinions and seek advice. Gradually, my introverted and timid nature began to fade away as I began to make my own life more of a gambit life.

Chess changed the atmosphere in my house completely. The friendly banter present while playing Bughouse and bullet chess games got all of us extremely close. My mom’s satirical and quick-witted remarks following each move, the shouts of joy, and the chaos added an element of fun to my outlook towards the game and life. Not everything is about winning and losing. Some things are just about having fun and feeling alive. I realized not to take life too seriously and enjoy the process regardless of the outcome.

In chess, the one piece I idolize is the pawn; though weak and vulnerable, it is the only piece that possesses the ability to add a new piece on the board, a game-changer. My younger sister has been a game-changer for me, teaching me how to play fearlessly without anticipating the results. She has helped me overcome my fear of losing and has given me confidence to believe in myself even when things aren’t in my favor.

While analysing positions with her, I noticed that my tactics were often ineffective, because the expressions on my face had given them away. I would either start fidgeting or grinning excitedly. If I was in a disadvantageous position, my crestfallen looks would cue my opponent that I was on the verge of giving up. Classical singing helped me to govern my emotions and become a more placid person. In long and strenuous games during international tournaments, I’ve learned to exercise a new level of emotional maturity and intelligence that one would never have guessed could have come from a board game.

Finally, chess has been an avenue through which I wish to make a change in the world. My sister and I, through teaching chess and classical music to students from low socio-economic backgrounds, aspire to help them develop and excel in skills beyond academics, synergize creativity with logic, and most importantly improve their mental well-being by channelizing their energies and thoughts in a positive direction. In this way, I can do my bit to minimize juvenile delinquency, which has spread like an epidemic in my country in recent years. Wherever I am, whether I’m coding or singing or learning how to play some ancient musical instrument, I hope to be a pawn in someone else’s life.