The New Indian Express ·
The enduring charm of Three-in-a-Row
Among the myriad traditional games I have encountered over the years, there is one that speaks to me more than most. In the South, it is called Kattam Vilayattu. In parts of North India, it is often known as Teen Goti, literally ‘three pieces’. Our ancestors, it would seem, were not always terribly creative when it came to naming games. Kattam Vilayattu belongs to a long tradition of three-in-a-row games that have been played across the world for centuries. The idea itself has always intrigued me. Why three?
The more one looks, the more the number appears everywhere. Almost every culture has a holy trinity. In Christianity, there is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. In Hinduism, Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. Go further back into ancient belief systems and the pattern emerges again and again. This gives us some idea about what could have been an inspiration for the game.
Mention Three-in-a-Row, and most people immediately think of X and O, or Noughts and Crosses, or Tic-Tac-Toe, depending on what they grew up calling it. It is a simple game played on a grid of nine squares. It is usually played with pencil and paper, or traditionally on the back of a slate with a piece of chalk, as students did more than 200 years ago. Players take turns marking an X or an O on an empty space on the board. Whoever gets three in a row vertically, horizontally, or diagonally wins the game. The name X and O, or Noughts and Crosses, comes from the use of X and O in the game itself. Interestingly, the name Tic-Tac-Toe was not originally used for this game. It referred to a children’s game played on a slate, consisting of trying with the eyes shut to bring the pencil down on one of the numbers of a set, thus scoring points. Somewhere in the early 20th century, the name was adopted for the familiar grid game we know today. Perhaps the rhythm of the phrase and the set of three words helped the transition.
Unlike X and O, Kattam Vilayattu does not end once the pieces are placed. Each player has only three pieces, but after placing them on the board, they can also be moved. What fascinates me about this game is its remarkable simplicity and, at the same time, its surprising complexity. Since the pieces move, the game cannot be played with just pencil and paper. It requires a physical board and counters. More importantly, it requires foresight. The challenge is not simply to make three in a row while placing your pieces. You must think ahead and create opportunities for future movement. You begin with a plan, but that plan must constantly change in response to your opponent’s choices.
In Tic-Tac-Toe, two skilled players almost always end in a draw. Kattam Vilayattu is different. It can also reach an impasse, with the same moves being repeated endlessly. And this is where the ingenuity of traditional players appears. As the game stagnates, players traditionally begin to speed up. Moves are made more quickly. Response times shrink. Pressure mounts. Mistakes creep in. What was a calm strategic exercise suddenly becomes an intense test of reflexes and concentration.
In a game that can last just a few minutes, there are so many fascinating layers. There is the joy of shared play. There is strategic thinking and adaptability. There is the ability to plan while responding to changing circumstances. And there is the challenge of making good decisions under time pressure.
Over the years, I have found versions of this game etched into the floors of temples and monuments. Yet, it is not uniquely Indian. Variations occur across the world under a variety of names. In ancient Rome, it was known as Terni Lapilli, Marelle in France, Tapatan in the Philippines, Alquerque de Tres in Spain, and many more.
The names may differ. The players may speak different languages. Yet, the game remains recognisably the same. Perhaps that is the real magic of traditional games. They remind us that people across cultures and centuries have laughed at the same mistakes, wrestled with the same challenges, and found joy in the same simple acts of play. After all, it does not matter where we come from. The best thing we can do is just play.