The father sits at a table with a chessboard with Black and White pieces strewn around -- engrossed in deep contemplation. Two kids -- in excited voices -- keep poring over the 64-squares, lean forward and move a piece or two before moving away to their own chatter. Occasionally, a little one puts her arms around the father’s broad shoulders and suggests certain move with the Bishop. Father agrees, moves the piece, stares at the laptop screen on his left, returns to the board, and makes another move. Occasionally, another kid, too, lunges forward, suggests another move. Father tries that, too, and then shakes his head to reject it. For quite a while, the threesome is engrossed in its own world of intelligent application of intelligence. The entire spectacle is so endearing from a distance across the room. Their -- Father’s and kids’ -- faces are aglow in a wonderful mix of meditation and application. Father fondles the little ones every now and then, asks them questions about the next move, either follows or rejects the suggestion. Occasionally, he rebuffs a child -- ‘No, that is not how you play chess !’

 

The child laughs heartily, throws his hands up in the air, dances around the table, talks in a rather shrill voice about how he would make the next move. The other child watches, pushes himself upfront, picks up a piece, makes a move, looks expectantly at Father, his eyes widened in anticipation ! The father accepts. Tousles the little one’s shock of hair, smiles, and all three do high-five ! From the distance across the room, that whole spectacle looks fully cinematic -- in the fading glow of the evening filtering through the cafe’s sheet-glass window, complete with unfiltered sound-track of its own, complete with non-artificial lighting, complete with naturalness without the Director’s wand. Time and again, Father cautions the two little ones -- a girl and a boy, both under 10 years of age -- about the match they are expected to play (possibly the next morning).

 

Obviously, they were in a practice session -- in preparation and anticipation of a match ! Excited ! Energised ! Anxious ! ‘Don’t think of winning. Think of how you will play’, Father tells them. They resume their practice-moves. Time and again, Father draws the kids’ attention to the centre of the 64-square board. ‘You win the game of chess at the centre’, he seems to say (as one imagines from the distance across the room). The whole exercise is a serious business -- of course interspersed with laughter, jostling, tousling of hair, hugging and kissing one another. There also was running around the restaurant, and then returning to the (s)table like disciplined powerhouses -- when Father warns: “Come here before I count five .. 1,2,3,4 ...5’. Both the kids are back at that dot. They are back again to work -- to get ready for the next day’s chess match. By the way, they are not Father-and-children. They are a Coach-and-Wards team. But then, that is how coaches -- in classic mould -- are supposed to be, fathers or mothers or family-elders. To Nagpur they have travelled from far, to take part in the ongoing chess tournament.

 

They are focused on what they wish to achieve. And, as one strikes a small conversation with the coach, one realises that winning is not at all on his agenda. Playing well -- giving the best -- is ! One, then, recalls what the legendary basketball coach John Wooden had once said about the process of coaching and practising and playing sports: “Success is peace of mind, which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to do the best of which you are capable”. The threesome -- the coach-and-the two wards -- is engaged in achieving that success beyond trophies. For, trophies will follow -- when the poetry of effort is complete.