When evenings meant playgrounds, not screens

RAM JOSHI

There was a time in Goa when evenings had a life of their own. As the sun slowly disappeared behind the coconut trees and the evening breeze began to cool the air, neighbourhoods would suddenly come alive. School bags were thrown aside, slippers were quickly worn, and within minutes children rushed out of their homes.

Quiet lanes, open spaces and village grounds would quickly turn into playgrounds. Those evenings did not require expensive sports equipment or organised coaching classes. All that was needed was a group of friends, a little imagination and plenty of energy.

Like most children, we also played the regular sports such as cricket, football, badminton and sometimes even volleyball. A small open field, a simple bat or even two stones used as wickets were enough to start a cricket match that could go on for hours. Football games stretched across entire grounds with children running barefoot and shouting with excitement. Even a simple badminton set or a volleyball net could keep us busy until it was almost dark.

But apart from these popular sports, there were many other games that today’s generation may hardly know about. These were the games that truly defined our childhood.

One such game was Medyani, a fast and energetic chasing game. My memories of Medyani are closely connected with family gatherings during Ganesh Chaturthi. During the festival, all our cousins would gather at our main ancestral house. The house would be full of relatives, laughter and celebrations.

With so many children in one place, evenings naturally turned into long sessions of Medyani. The courtyard and the surrounding open space became our playground. One child would chase the others trying to tag them, while everyone else ran in different directions. With so many cousins playing together, the game would become chaotic and hilarious. Someone would fall, someone would argue about who was caught, and someone would already be planning the next round. The noise, the laughter and the running made those evenings unforgettable.

Another favourite was Lipchalyani, which was very similar to hide-and-seek but had its own local flavour. One player would close their eyes and count while the others rushed to find hiding spots behind trees, compound walls, parked scooters or small corners around the neighbourhood.

The player would then begin the search, carefully looking around for the hidden friends. The suspense of waiting quietly in a hiding spot while the seeker walked nearby was thrilling. The moment someone was spotted, there would be a sudden burst of running and shouting as everyone tried to escape.

Then there was one of the most creative games children played: rolling a tyre with a wooden stick.  Many children would find an old bicycle tyre or metal rim and guide it along the road using a stick. The challenge was to keep the tyre rolling without letting it fall.

Sometimes it turned into a race through the lanes, with children competing to see who could control the tyre the longest. It required concentration, coordination and balance. Looking back now, it is amazing how something as simple as an old tyre could give us so much joy.

Another popular game involved marbles, commonly known as Goti. These colourful glass marbles were treasured possessions. Children would draw circles in the sand and take turns aiming their marbles at others. The excitement of hitting the target and winning a marble from a friend felt like a big achievement. Many children proudly carried their small collections in their pockets.

There were also energetic games like Lagori, also known as seven stones. Seven flat stones were stacked one on top of another, and a team would try to knock them down with a ball. Once the stones scattered, the team had to rebuild the stack while the opposing team tried to stop them by hitting them with the ball. It was a game full of running, shouting and teamwork. Another well-known game was Langdi, where one player chased the others while hopping on one leg. What looked simple at first quickly became tiring, but that was part of the fun.

What made these games special was not just the games themselves but the environment around them. Streets became playgrounds. Open fields became arenas. Coconut trees, compound walls and dusty roads all became part of the game.

There were no scoreboards, no referees and no trophies waiting at the end. Yet every evening felt like an adventure. Small arguments about rules were common, but they never lasted long. As soon as someone shouted “one more round,” everyone was ready to begin again.

Today childhood looks very different. Many children spend their evenings indoors, often looking at a mobile phone, tablet or television screen. Technology has brought many advantages, but it has also quietly replaced the outdoor games that once filled our evenings with laughter and excitement.

Maybe it is time to remind the younger generation that happiness does not always come from a screen. Sometimes it comes from running freely in an open space, hiding behind a tree or trying to keep a rolling tyre from falling.

The games we played may have been simple, but they created memories that stay with us for a lifetime. They taught us friendship, teamwork and creativity without anyone formally teaching us those lessons.

Of course, Medyani, Lipchalyani, tyre rolling, marbles, Lagori and Langdi are only a few of the many games that children once played. There were many more games that different neighbourhoods and villages enjoyed in their own ways.

Maybe this is a good time to think about those forgotten games. Bring them up in your friends’ WhatsApp groups, talk about them, laugh about them and cherish those beautiful memories of childhood once again. Because sometimes the simplest games create the most lasting memories.

(The writer is a UX professional from Goa, passionate about technology, people and everyday life experience)