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Journalism of Courage
So you tend to lose at the Diwali game of cards? Raise a toast to yourself,for you are at one with a great Indian tradition.
Even the most puritanical among us are permitted,even encouraged,once a year to gamble. Playing teen patti every Diwali is much more than an important stress-reliever for all of us. It brings into focus the extent to which randomness dominates our lives. In India,we have stress-reducing festivals. During Holi,it is in order to indulge in bhang; during Navratri dances like the garba give young folk an opportunity to indulge in mild flirtations and sometimes much more; Ganpati festivals in western India have over the last 100-odd years acquired a public profile that extends beyond the immediate family to the larger neighbourhood; the Muharram processions of Shia Muslims have always been about exuberant public demonstrations of mourning and have been accompanied by staid mushairas where elegies are recited,again with an unexpected exuberance.
Our festivals hold a mirror to our countrys past and present in a really unusual way. But Diwali and its patronage of gambling has to be unique.
Of late,I have noticed that teen patti is no longer a male preserve. In keeping with the changing spirit of our times as reflected in the various pronouncements of our judiciary,women are not only being empowered in this space,but they are also participating with gusto in some sections,it is becoming obligatory for women to wager larger sums at a faster pace than their spouses and other less formal companions (again in the context of non-formal relationships obtaining official recognition from our law courts!). Maybe it has something to do with the nature of Darwinian evolution,but most of the women who I have played teen patti against seem to be darned good at it. I welcome this as a sign of social progress. For a country which has persecuted women for centuries and where even now female foeticide is more common than automobile accidents,one must grudgingly praise the fact that at least with three cards in their hands,women have achieved a measure of equality with men. And let me be clear: I have no desire to get into the complex,metaphysical argument as to how one can distinguish a good player from a mediocre or a bad one,in a game that involves no skills. Ah,dear reader,thats where you are wrong.
From time immemorial,the Indic mind has been obsessed with the fact that all reality is subjective and impressionistic. None of our literary critics or philosophical commentators has ever argued that Nala or Yudhishtira was dumb when they deluded themselves that they actually had a skill with the way they threw the dice. The latter,one could argue,was more than dumb when he actually had reason to believe that his opponent was using a loaded dice. Perish such thoughts. Nala and Yudhishtira were great kings one was loved by the peerless Damayanti and the other was at least accepted as a spouse by the maddeningly abrasive Draupadi. If Nala and Yudhishtira thought that there was a special knack to throwing dice,I am completely and unashamedly willing to believe that there is a finely honed technique involved in picking up three cards. That is the subjective and impressionistic reality that not only I subscribe to but I am sure it is one that I share with readers of The Indian Express.
Life is either random or close enough to random as the cards that are dealt with in this life are the outcome of actions in past lives which we can neither remember or influence in fact,that sounds to me as random as it can get. Randomness,or at least its acceptance,is a great humbler. It is entirely possible that you are the pompous CEO of a pompous establishment and your opponent who has been a failure at pretty much everything (one possessed with an anti-Midas touch,who destroys the stock price of every company which he touches!) and yet the night before Diwali,here is this obvious incompetent pulling out a trail which comes up just when you have a perfect sequence,the best cards you had in the evening. After you have lost more than you care to remember or admit,you must become a believer in random effects. Is there any other explanation? The finest and,to my mind,most excruciatingly absurd explanation is given by yet another pot-bellied moron sitting next to you,Dont worry. If you lose tonight,you will make money throughout the year. You are too exhausted to tell him: You utterly repelling low life,my aim is not to lose; my aim is to make money this evening AND throughout the next year.
One must revert to the infuriating calmness that pervades our ancient texts,such as they are. Lobha or greed is bad,even in gambling. The paradox of being advised to be moderate in gambling has a Wodehousian touch to it until one remembers that the great Plums brother was an avid admirer of the Gita which advises us to look upon gain and loss as being the same. The intransigent obstinacy of these high-sounding traditional texts is what leads you to the next step. Now that you have lost much more than you can afford,you can touch your host for some alcohol,permitted during Diwali,just as bhang is during Holi. That represents a measure of gain for the evening.
Diwalis come and go. One gets steadily older and equally steadily more maudlin. Who doesnt remember that great teen patti game in As hostel room? Every five minutes B was reminding all of us that he was going to get up soon as he had to cram for the upcoming maths exam. But,of course,he never got up. He stayed in the game all night. C was murmuring prayers below his breath,hanging on to the belief that the prayers would be answered and he would at least once get an Ace-top,the best he did till then being a ten-top. D was complaining that the card pack was jinxed and needed to be replaced and E was repeatedly counting the pack to make sure that there were actually fifty-two of them. He strongly suspected that we were one short and playing with a pack of fifty-one; that was the only rational (i.e. non-random) explanation for his luck,or lack of it all evening.
So dear reader,here is wishing you some random luck this Diwali as you go forth and confront the ancient Indian skill-based game of teen patti. Remember earlier games in hostel rooms and other settings of your nostalgic youth. And one word of advice in the interests of non-subjective non-random rationality. Leave home only with what you are willing to lose. When you have lost it,stop do not borrow. That is the secret of a Happy Diwali!
The writer divides his time between Mumbai,Lonavala and Bangalore
