38th annual South Asian World Carom Championships

Carom is a game, I decided as I walked imprecisely back to the train station, one eye scanning the shop fronts for those ketchup-flavored chips so popular in India, that I would describe as a mix between billiards, air hockey, that game that all the cool kids had in 3rd grade called “Crossfire”, and maybe Tiddlywinks, and Pogs too. Tiddlywinks, what a fucked up word.

It’s not often I find myself in such a descriptive disposition, but having just stumbled upon day 2 of the 38th annual South Asian World Carom Championships—a 7 day affair—I needed to crystallize my semiotic grasp over this odd phenomenon.

Carom: two guys sit across from each other looking like they’d rather have a pizza between them than a board covered in chalky powder and checker pieces, and in protest, and possibly hope, they begin to hit the checker pieces back and forth with mild vigor. Once the mild vigor has translated its energy into all the pieces reaching pockets (still no pizza) the scorekeeper makes a mark on his piece of paper, sweeps some of the chalky residue onto the floor, and it all begins again.

At the championships each team had a (slightly) different colored polo shirt with their home turf (eg. Delhi, Tamil Nadu, Nagaland, Gujarat) printed on the back. Another example of how things such as individual style and other obsessions with choice often get tossed to the birds when confronted with 1 billion mostly third-world people.

Someday I hope to learn the actual rules of Carom so I can adjust them accordingly and invent the best drinking game ever. Maybe something like “every time you hit a piece into a pocket you have to chug a pitcher of beer.” Zach, if you’re reading, please begin conducting preliminary tests at UCSB. You will be duly compensated with beer.