I remember the days I used to come home from the playground to find my grand-mom (my mother’s mom) and my dad arguing loudly. She called him a cheat. He would respond in kind. They would glower at each other and walk their separate ways.
The fight was always about a game of carrom. Granny had her own set of rules. Dad was a pro. Both of them, bull headed. My poor mother, tired after a long day at work would be besieged with complaints from both the parties. I am sure most days she would have gladly rammed the carrom board down their throats.
One would think after an evening of bitter fighting grandma and dad would let go of their evening ritual. But no. The carrom board was a shrine they visited regularly. The ensuing argument, their sacred ritual.
Fast forward. Two decades later I walk in on my mother and husband playing carrom. And they are accusing each other of cheating. When my presence is detected, complaints poured in.
Full circle. yes.