Playing Through Time: Rediscovering the Wisdom of India’s Traditional Games with Kreeda

Growing up, summers meant playing Pallanguzhi with my grandmother but little did I know that this simple game would one day be a part of my professional journey. Straight out of my master's program, my quest to explore the world of design for play led me to Kreeda Games — the company whose traditional games I grew up with.

Kreeda (meaning 'play' in Sanskrit), the brainchild of Vinita Sidhartha is on a mission to revive India’s traditional games, blending cultural heritage with modern relevance. What struck me most during my time with Kreeda is how these games weren’t just play; they were woven into the fabric of life itself. Simple materials — stones, shells, seeds — were used to create games that weren’t just fun, but profoundly strategic, teaching teamwork, planning, and sometimes even moral lessons. Kreeda doesn’t just make games — they research and document the history behind them, preserving these cultural treasures for future generations.

As a child, I never imagined that one day I would work with the very company that made my memories possible. Kreeda’s games were a staple in my childhood. Summers were spent with my grandmother playing Pallanguzhi — a vibrant counting and strategy game — and my dad would proudly show off his Bambaram skills — a spinning top requiring dexterity and balance (though he never quite managed to teach me how to spin one). The joy of playing those games was simple, but the wisdom they held was anything but that.

When I visited Kreeda’s office on my last trip to India, I was instantly drawn in by their experience center, where the games are displayed in bright, inviting colors. The beautifully crafted pieces are a joy to hold and play with, their materials simple yet thoughtful — a true reflection of traditional games themselves. But it’s not just about the aesthetics; it’s about the rich layers of history, culture, and strategy embedded in these games.

The wonderful team at Kreeda

The more I learned about these games, the more I realized how deeply they shaped the people who played them. Traditional games weren’t crafted in studios — they emerged from communities, evolving through play itself. They reflect the needs, beliefs, and ingenuity of the people who created them. They teach — not through explicit instructions, but by doing.

Aadu Puli Aatam is a thrilling predator-prey strategy game that teaches tactical planning and teamwork. Chaupad, a cross-and-circle race game rooted in Indian royalty, blends chance and choice. Paramapadam, the original Snakes and Ladders, wasn’t just a race to the finish. It was a moral journey, guiding players through virtues and vices. Each game carries layers of wisdom, cleverly hidden beneath playful mechanics.

What struck me most is that these games are timeless, carrying lessons and values through generations. But more than that, they reflect the essence of life itself — a balance of chance and choice, teamwork and strategy, and the constant negotiation between victory and loss. These simple games embody deep insights that can be translated into modern design thinking.

One of the most profound moments for me was when I discovered Aadu Puli Aatam boards etched into the stone floors of a temple during a family trip. Imagine that — centuries-old games, preserved not through instruction manuals or mass production, but through the belief that play is worth remembering. When I visited temples with my family, spotting those carvings felt like uncovering a secret message from the past: play was never 'just play', it was part of life. It was a powerful reminder that these games weren’t just preserved in memory; they were ingrained in life itself, a part of traditions, lessons, and social connection.

Temple inscriptions

Games like Aadu Puli Aatam and Paramapadam weren’t just leisure activities; they were philosophical experiences, teaching values through play. Paramapadam, for example, was much more than a race to the finish — it was a journey through life, with ladders representing virtues and snakes symbolizing moral pitfalls. Over time, as the game evolved into the simpler version we know today as Snakes and Ladders, that deeper moral lesson got lost. But what if we, as play designers, could bring that depth back into modern games?

The more I worked with Kreeda, the more I realized that the heart of play design lies not in flashy innovations or complex technology, but in simplicity. Traditional games, with their humble materials and straightforward mechanics, teach profound lessons that modern games aspire to replicate. These games, which have been passed down for generations, continue to teach us about the power of play, culture, and community.

For anyone curious to dive deeper into these games — their history, mechanics, and lasting relevance — I highly recommend Just Play by Vinita Sidhartha. It’s a beautifully written book that captures the heart and soul of traditional Indian games and why they continue to matter today.

Kreeda, and the incredible work Vinita leads, reminded me why I fell in love with designing for play in the first place. It’s not just about making things fun — it’s about creating experiences that resonate, teach, and stay with people long after the game ends. As an aspiring play designer, it’s easy to get caught up in modern technology and flashy innovations. Kreeda reminded me that some of the most profound, engaging, and meaningful play experiences are rooted in simplicity, tradition, and culture.

So here’s a thought to leave you with — for play designers, educators, and creatives alike:

How can we create play experiences that stand the test of time — joyful, meaningful, and worth remembering? What lessons can we learn from these enduring games, where the simplest materials create the richest experiences? And more importantly — what are we leaving behind for the next generation?

Are the games we’re designing today ones worth carving into stone?