Life is like Chess

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When Gukesh Dommaraju became the Chess Grandmaster at the age of 18, I was reminded of my personal passion for the game as a young boy. I learnt the game when I was ten years or so and I was so passionate about it that I picked up a book by none less than Bobby Fischer, the most famous chess champion of the time, to learn master strategies. I lacked the commitment of Gukesh, however, and hence didn’t become any champion. But I loved playing the game in those days. I loved the strategic moves it demands. The game is like life in many ways. I failed to learn the strategies of a successful life, however. That’s a different matter. You can be a loser in practical life in spite of knowing a lot of theoretic strategies.

As we are moving on to a New Year, I am tempted to make a comparison between chess and life, though I failed to convert the theories to practice. Never mind my personal failures. My life has reached its autumn, and so my successes and failures are immaterial. Let me at least offer suggestions to others now. 

Gukesh can foresee the opponent’s moves much ahead. Any chess champion can do that. If you know the game of chess, you also know that you need to anticipate the opponent’s strategy with a prophet’s foresight. Now, isn’t life quite similar? If you can set long-term plans, make calculated decisions, and adapt to challenges, you become a champion in life.

You need to adapt yourself all along the way. No matter how well you calculate your moves on the chessboard, your opponent’s moves can force you to alter your strategy. Life is just like that: it hurls on to your face unexpected events, opportunities, and obstacles. You need to adapt yourself and rethink your approach.

Each piece on the chessboard has unique strengths and limitations. Knowing how to use each piece effectively is very important. Even the tiny pawn, which we often sacrifice easily in the initial stages of the game, can become the most vital piece towards the end of the game. I remember how I used to be thrilled if I could put an end to the opponent’s moves with a pawn sitting next to the king. Of course, the pawn has to be backed by a more important piece. The pawn sitting on the leg of a knight was one of my favourite strategies. There’s some crookedness required in bringing the pawn to that position.

Once someone remarked watching my game about how I failed utterly in bringing that crookedness to life. I failed to understand people. People aren’t like chess pieces at all. Chess pieces follow definite rules. And people don’t. My failure owed itself to the lack of that understanding: that people don’t exist to serve my interests unlike the pieces on my chessboard.

Chess teaches us to sacrifice certain pieces in order to get on with the game successfully. Yes, such sacrifices are inevitable in life too. Time, comfort, resources, and many other things may have to be sacrificed in order to achieve our goals.

Each move on the chessboard has its consequences. Each move influences future possibilities. Isn’t life quite similar? You are free to choose, but you are not free from the consequence of your choice.

While winning is the goal, the process of learning, playing and enjoying the game matters much in chess like in any other game. In life too, success is important, but the journey, relationships, and experiences are what make it meaningful.

The analogy can go on. But I don’t want to take it too far. For one thing, the chess pieces won’t ever act outside the established rules of the game. Can you imagine a bishop moving like a rook or vice versa? But in real life, not only bishops but even prime ministers or ascetic yogis can break rules in ways you won’t ever imagine. Learning the rules of human life isn’t at all like mastering the game of chess. Nevertheless, let me offer this lesson at the close of 2024.

Let me wish you grand successes in 2025.