Games Aplenty

My Pongal holidays have come and gone in a blur of Pongal sweets, thin, runny karumbus and reality shows and talk shows in the TV. Not a hint of any physical activity, no games, not a movement away from the floor where I either reclined or lolled about chewing on something.

Holidays at Dhamayanthi aaya's house were always eagerly looked forward to and one had to have the prowess of a lion and the stamina of a camel to brave those holidays in the searing heat and games full of fun, mischief, tears, griefs and forgotten bruises. Our games were always rough there, though aaya  probably liked to believe she had us under a tight leash.

The large courtyard in the middle with its open space and the tin roofed godown adjoining the house were our playground. We played tough, brutal, runaroaund games there. There was one called 'kadala, nilama' and the one who was the catcher (decided by an unfair saat, bhoot, three or dhoni dakkara dhoiyan, or some other loony jingle learnt at school that decided the fate) would have to go around and catch the dodgy characters who would jump from nilam to kadal...the nilam was the hard concrete floor of the courtyard and the kadal would be the steps leading to the upper floor. Pony tails and plaited hair would all come undone and even the touch of one's ribbon would make one the unfortunate catcher next. One may spend rounds trying to gasp one's breath out to catch  the agile ones..not an easy task.  We usually had the little ones become the catcher by cheating on the saat,boot, three thing. Hari and Parthi were notorious, but I like to believe that all of us cheated the little ones to have fun at their expense. The moment the game began, elders would rush in to pull the dried clothes off the clothesline. Clothes were very important and darn if the kids caught their hair or their neck in the line.

Hide and seek was easily our favourite, because that house had a million secret corners. The washplace in the kitchen, the extra bathrooms (in between the wooden stacks and smelly drying kitchen clothes), the palam room, the doors ( you could hide an elephant behind them) sometimes, even the toilet. Hah...they caused some anxious moments for those who came there in a hurry and caught their breaths, not at the smell, but at the sight of a small body hurtling past them from the toilets. The front hall had a lovely, rangoon bamboo woven two seater, under which one could hide and sometimes, the game might have even moved on to the next round and one would lie waiting for the catcher, never mind if it was the next catcher....I remember that the only place taboo for us all was the small verandha upstairs which opened to the upstairs hall...we believed there was a ghost and no one was brave enough to dare it. Probably the two boys, Parthi and Hari did in a show of dare devilry...but, it was normally not chosen, because the catcher did not want to come there and so the fun was lost. The best part of the game was the resounding slap one would receive on the back accompanied by a frightening yell of 'Ice Pass/Eyes Pass??' that indicated that the one hiding was safe, out of reach of the seeker.

Another game was the water splash game played, normally when aaya went out shopping. We would climb the tin roof of the godown and walk along the precipitious edge along the courtyard wall. It was a long drop and  any misstep might mean danger and trouble - aaya was good at tongue lashing and yelling at us for making  her break her promise to her daughters and sons that we would be cared for and that we would be guarded against any fractures and hospitalisation during the holidays. But, the sense of challenge in that was compounded by the blast of water that would be directed at us from the washbasin tap in the courtyard. It was not a game for children alone...Siva maama and Kala chithi would join us with a warning that not a word was to be breathed when aaya returned. The sense of urgency and fun filled guilt with which we would dry our clothes and put everything in place the moment the tracker in the front hall rushed in to tell us that aaya was just around the corner in the kudhirai vandi exceeded the speed of a typhoon.

Not to be forgotten is the tent pitching atop the small bathoom at the backyard near the wash-stone and the nandiyavattai trees. We'd imagine ourselves as adventurers in the fashion of Enid Blyton characters and haul five to six bedsheets ( I remember a distinctly blue, ribbed one) on to the rooftop. There with the help of some wooden poles stolen from the room below, we would tie them together and spread the bedsheets over them as a sort of a roof. Soem fruits or theeni would be taken and hours spent giggling, laughing, fighting and frightening the little one away with threats and horror faces. We would climb down , not when the sun went down, but when the next door ladies would catch us peeping at them as they were about to use the loo. We'd come screaming down with ghoulish delight at having caught somebody with their pants down literally ...

Another favourite was playing hide and seek in a dark room. We would all stream into  the room piled with beds, matresses and pillows, close all the windows and block out even the smallest streak of light with cloth, switch off the light and choose a hiding place. The choking heat inside that room, the frightening feel of being alone in the dark, hoping for a small whisper or the slightest sound...while groping around with outstretched hands in that darkest of dark black engulfing one was an awesome game that helped dispel our fears of the dark and loneliness. The screams emerging from there frightened only those inside, because those outside could not hear anything from behind those locked doors and windows.

Upstairs, the most daring game was tying a frayed thayir kadayum rope from one window to another across the hall and trying to trapeze walk on it...Devanthi and I were always at it, while Hari and Parthi were always at tugging the rope and pulling us down. A job they were experts at.

Most of the kids in the clan were wiry, strong and alert then. The games made us so...I believe that while the battle of the bulge is losing its grip on us now, we were able to put it off for quite a long time, because of the games we played in our childhood. Some of our elders joined in the fun and that made it all so legitimate fun even when we were playing in forbidden areas. Thanks to Siva maama, Kala, Bharathi and Sathi chithis for joining us in our mad capers. I also wonder why aaya did not shout at us all the time, but let us have our fun, so long as we didn't break a limb or two? Was it because she was a lover of sports herself, as she told us once...she would swim from one bank of Cauvery to the other at Kodumudi, her home town and swing from the wooden rafters in her house even while looking after her siblings as a loving sister?