My Chess Journey: From Fischer to Gukesh

The world of chess has always echoed with rivalries that transcend the board. In the '70s, it was Fischer vs. Spassky, a Cold War clash of minds crowned by the legendary 1972 World Championship. The '80s were dominated by the tense, intellectual warfare of Karpov vs. Kasparov — relentless and riveting. The '90s saw a new spark with Kasparov vs. Anand, east meeting west in a battle of brilliance. In the 2000s, Kramnik quietly dethroned Kasparov, reshaping the narrative. And now, a new torchbearer has emerged: Gukesh vs. Carlsen — youth versus legacy.

These rivalries remind me of the ABC era in tennis — Arthur Ashe, Björn Borg, Jimmy Connors — later replaced by the holy trinity of Federer, Djokovic, and Nadal. Grace, grit, and rivalry — the same DNA as chess, played on a different court.

My own love for the 64 squares began in childhood. I would buy chess books with my pocket money, studying each annotated move like sacred scripture. I’d test those ideas in backyard duels — often against my father's amused office colleagues or my unsuspecting cousins. Many of them walked in confident… and walked away surprised. I wasn’t a prodigy — but for my age, I was sharp, strategic, and spirited.

Over the last many decades Chess and Gita have been my companions. Both, in hard copies and in the digital medium on my IPad and IPhone. As I have more time now, I immerse myself into unravelling the mysteries of the universe by reading and listening to Krishna's instructions on life and writing my book on Gita and also playing chess grandmaster on my iPad to keep my ageing grey cells agile and connected. 

And yesterday, I watched with a childlike thrill as Gukesh faced Carlsen. The match had been tight — a slow, tense positional game. Then came the twist. On move 53, Carlsen pushed his knight into what looked like a dominant square — a classic Magnus squeeze. But Gukesh, calm and unreadable, made a subtle bishop retreat on move 54. A passive move? Not quite. It was a decoy.

Carlsen took the bait. The moment he committed, Gukesh sprang the trap. Move 55 — Queen slides diagonally, slicing through the defense. A brutal pin. A gasp. Carlsen, caught off guard, leaned back — a flicker of frustration across his face. The young challenger had outwitted the master.

Chess, to me, has never been just a game. It's kept my mind agile, decision-making sharp, and emotions balanced. It taught me when to wait, when to strike, and most importantly — when to stay quiet and think. Even today, it fuels my curiosity and keeps my neurons nimble.

From dusty boards in childhood to digital showdowns on global screens — the board remains unchanged, but the joy I draw from it has only grown.