Indian Chess

Ever since I was little, I was familiar with the rules of Western chess. I knew how the pieces moved, how to castle, how to checkmate—and like most people, I took those rules for granted. But I also knew that chess itself had originated in India, centuries ago, and that it had made its way westward through Persia and the Islamic world, eventually becoming the game that is now played in tournaments across the globe. What I didn’t know then was that a different version of the game—what I now call Indian chess—continued to exist right here in India until surprisingly recently.

I’m not talking about chaturanga, the ancient form of chess played in the Gupta Empire.

Chaturanga is important as the root of all chess variants, but Indian chess—the one I came to love—is the traditional version that flourished in the 18th, 19th, and early 20th centuries. It was slower, more reflective, and rich with its own vocabulary and logic. Today, unfortunately, Indian chess has almost vanished, overshadowed by the global dominance of standard Western chess. But to me, Indian chess feels deeper, richer, and in many ways better than the modern game.

I first discovered this forgotten variant while reading a book on the history of chess. I was immediately drawn in.

The rules were similar on the surface, but subtle differences created an entirely different rhythm and strategy. I began playing this version with friends instead of the standard game. It was slower, yes, but also more meditative, more personal. And then, a few years later, I watched Shatranj ke Khilari (“The Chess Players”), Satyajit Ray’s adaptation of a short story by Munshi Premchand. That film not only showed the Indian version of the game—it used it as a symbol of cultural stasis, of a nobility too lost in their rituals to notice the world collapsing around them. It was brilliant.

Indian Chess Terminology

The names of the pieces in Indian chess give the game a distinctly local flavour. Here’s how they differ from their Western counterparts:

• King:

  • राजा (Rājā)

  • बादशाह (Bādshāh)

• Queen:

  • मंत्री (Mantrī) or वज़ीर (Wazīr) – Minister

  • रानी (Rānī) – Queen

  • मलिका (Malikā) – Empress

  • सेनापति (Senāpati) – General

• Rook:

  • रथ (Rath) – Chariot

  • रुख़ (Rukh) – Tower

  • हाथी (Hāthī) – Elephant

• Bishop:

  • ऊँट (Ūṇṭ) – Camel

  • फ़ीला (Fīlā) – Elephant

• Pawn:

  • प्यादा (Pyādā) – Foot soldier

• Check:

  • शै (Shaī) – Derived from the Persian word شاہ (Shāh, “king”)

  
  

Key Rules of Indian Chess

Indian chess differs from Western chess in several significant ways, which shape its overall pace and strategy:

• Both kings are placed to the right of the queens at the beginning, unlike Western chess.

  
  

• Pawns move only one step at a time, even on their first move.→ As a result, en passant does not exist.

  
  

• Castling is absent in the Western sense.

  
  

• Indian castling or the “king’s leap”: The unchecked king may make a single knight’s move once in the game.

  
  

• Pawn promotion is not flexible:→ A pawn promotes to the piece that originally occupied that file.→ A pawn on the king's file promotes to a queen.

  
  

• Endgame rules vary, often with these features:

  • If only one piece remains (aside from kings), it may not be captured—or capturing may depend on its type.

  • When only kings and pawns remain:→ In some versions, giving check is not allowed.→ Victory may be declared by stalemate.→ In other versions, you may give check, but capturing the last pawn (which could lead to a draw) is not allowed.

    
    

These variations make Indian chess more deliberate and slow-paced. That slowness isn't a flaw—it's a feature. It encourages longer-term thinking, deeper calculation, and more expressive positional play. Tactics take a back seat to strategy. It’s a chess of patience, not speed.

This meditative pace is used to brilliant effect in Shatranj ke Khilari. In the film, two noblemen, Mir and Mirza, are so obsessed with their Indian chess matches that they ignore the political upheaval around them. As they carefully move their प्यादे (pyāde) one step at a time, the British East India Company—playing by Western rules—moves swiftly and decisively. Their metaphorical two-step pawn advances allow them to swallow Awadh entirely. Premchand’s story, brought to life by Ray, uses this contrast to expose the consequences of being trapped in tradition while the world modernizes and moves on.

Despite all this—or perhaps because of it—I find Indian chess more meaningful than the global standard. It's slower, more grounded, and steeped in the rhythms of a different time. Each move feels earned, each tactic more carefully constructed. It’s a game that demands patience and understanding, not brute force or memorization. And though it has almost disappeared today, I think it deserves to be remembered—and played.

I still play Indian chess when I can. It's not just a historical curiosity to me. It's a different way of thinking, a different way of seeing the world. And maybe, in a world obsessed with speed, there’s still something valuable about taking one step at a time.