A LOST GAME

“The gods may throw a dice, their minds as cold as ice.”

In the middle of the refugee camp stood a table, on which lay a Snakes and Ladders board. Two chairs faced each other: one sturdy and strong, brought personally by the nanny of the visiting family; the other weak and rickety, with a broken leg, likely fished from the rubble in the corner of the camp. The child of the rich couple decided he wanted to play with one of the children there.

They sat opposite each other- one cocky and confident, for life had never betrayed him. The other sat slouched, hesitant to play. But offending the rich boy might come with consequences, so he remained still and silent, trying to please him, hoping it might earn an extra portion of bread.

For ease, let’s name the rich child R and the other child S.

R smiled at S and rolled the dice, commencing the game. He shrieked with delight as his first move landed him on a ladder, and just like that, he was 20 positions ahead of S. His parents, sitting beside him, cheered him on, and he turned to them with a wide, toothy smile. S smiled too and brought his hands together for a weak clap. His mind was not on the game.

All he could think of was the whereabouts of the rest of his family. His sister had been raped. He had watched his brother blast before his eyes. He was the only child left alive. His father’s leg had been torn off by rubble from the missile that killed his brother, and his mother had been missing for two days. He clung to the hope that both of them were still alive.

R snapped his fingers in front of S’s eyes, pulling him back to reality. S picked up the dice, ready to roll. Before he could, R added another rule: the winner could get whatever they wanted, while the loser would get nothing.

S looked at the dice in his hand. They suddenly felt heavier.

With trembling fingers, he rolled them, relieved when the number didn’t land him on a snake. His eyes lit up, hopeful now. Maybe he had a chance this time.

R picked up the dice again, oblivious to S’s turmoil, and rolled. His eyebrows furrowed as he landed on a square with neither ladder nor snake. Just three more, and he would have climbed again. His father patted his shoulder lightly and urged S to take his turn.

By now, a small crowd of children had gathered around S, waiting for his next move. Word had spread about the winner’s prize, and they hoped S would win so that all of them might get an extra portion of food.

S glanced at them nervously and picked up the dice. Before he could steady them in his palm, his hands gave way, and the dice slipped out on their own.

They landed on a number that took him to a ladder.

For a moment, joy surged through him. R frowned, and S quickly suppressed his smile. He didn’t want to offend the family at any cost.

But that was where S’s luck seemed to end.

R landed on ladders three more times, inching closer to victory, while S climbed twice only to fall thrice to snakes. R’s delighted shrieks cut through the otherwise silent camp, while the children around S watched him with quiet, pleading eyes.

In a desperate attempt not to lose, S began to pray before every throw. But it seemed the universe had no intention of letting him win that day.

R rolled the dice one final time and reached the winning square, finishing the game he had begun. He leapt from his chair, running around the table, shouting, “Winner! Winner!”

Maybe it was the celebration.
Maybe it was losing in front of a crowd that had depended on him.
Maybe it was the thought of settling for the same meagre portion of bread.
Or maybe it was everything-the war, the loss, the emptiness.

S began to cry.

Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at the crowd, which slowly dispersed, realizing there would be nothing extra today.

R’s parents looked at the forlorn boy and felt a flicker of sympathy. They placed a hand on his shoulder and asked him what he wanted.

R protested loudly; he was the winner, only he deserved the prize. He declared that he wanted a new PlayStation to play with.

After his parents promised to get it for him, he ran off, still shouting in triumph.

S remained by the table, staring at the dice, wishing, just this once, that they had been kinder to him.

R’s mother crouched down to his level, looked into his eyes, and gently asked again what he wanted.

Her kindness broke something in him. This time, the sobs were no longer silent.

Through broken breaths, he whispered, he just wanted his family back.

ps: post inspired from this reel.