Dadhi – The Forgotten Telugu Game Played on the Streets of India | Fotocafestudios
Sometimes, the most beautiful museums have no walls.
They are found on village streets, temple courtyards, shaded verandahs and dusty corners where an old man sits down and draws a few lines on the ground.
No expensive board.
No plastic pieces.
No batteries.
No internet connection.
Just a few stones, a piece of chalk—and a game passed from one generation to another.
This photograph introduced me to one such game.
Dadhi.
Or Daadi / Dhadi (దాడి) in Telugu.
I came across this scene while photographing everyday life. An elderly man was sitting on the pavement with children, playing a game on a board drawn directly onto the paving stones.
When I asked him what the game was called, he simply said:
"Dadhi."
And suddenly, a few chalk lines on the pavement became a doorway into an older India.
What is Dadhi?
Dadhi is a traditional Indian strategy and alignment game associated with Telugu-speaking regions.
It belongs to the same broad family of games known internationally as Nine Men's Morris, and in India it is also associated with names such as Navakankari and Nau Goti. Sources specifically record Daadi/Dahdi as a Telugu name for the game.
The basic idea is beautifully simple:
Get three of your playing pieces in a line.
Do that, and you can usually capture one of your opponent's pieces.
Then the game becomes a battle of strategy—trying to create your own line while preventing your opponent from creating theirs.
A Game That Needed Almost Nothing
Look carefully at the photograph.
There is no beautifully carved wooden game board.
No colourful manufactured counters.
No instruction manual.
The pavement itself has become the game board.
Small stones become playing pieces.
A piece of chalk becomes the drawing instrument.
And the surrounding street becomes the gaming room.
This is one of the things I find fascinating about traditional Indian games.
They were often accessible to almost everyone.
You didn't have to buy entertainment.
You created it.
How is Dadhi played?
The exact rules and number of pieces can vary between local versions.
Traditional descriptions of Daadi include versions in which two players use nine or eleven pieces each. Some Telugu accounts specifically describe 11 pieces per player, while the more widely known Nine Men's Morris/Navakankari version uses nine pieces each.
The basic gameplay, however, follows a familiar pattern.
1. Draw the board
The players create a series of connected squares/lines.
The playable positions are the points where the lines meet.
And unlike a modern board game, the board can simply be drawn on the floor.
2. Place the pieces
The two players take turns placing their stones or counters on vacant positions.
In the traditional game, simple objects such as stones, tamarind seeds or other small natural objects could serve as playing pieces.
3. Make a Dadhi
The objective is to arrange three of your pieces in a straight line.
That formation is the key moment of the game.
Make your Dadhi—and you can capture an opponent's piece according to the local rules.
4. Move and attack
Once the pieces have been placed, players begin moving them along the lines of the board.
The strategy becomes increasingly difficult.
You are simultaneously trying to:
Create your own Dadhi.
Block your opponent's Dadhi.
Protect your own pieces.
Force your opponent into a disadvantageous position.
The game therefore requires planning rather than luck. Traditional descriptions emphasise exactly this combination of forming lines and preventing the opponent from doing the same.
More Than a Game
What fascinated me about this particular encounter wasn't only the game.
It was the people around it.
An older man.
Children.
A woman sitting nearby.
A pavement.
And an ordinary afternoon.
There is something wonderfully Indian about this scene.
The game isn't being played inside an entertainment centre.
It isn't being streamed.
Nobody is looking at a mobile phone.
The players are sitting together, looking at one another, thinking, talking and waiting for the next move.
In today's world, that is becoming increasingly rare.
Before Smartphones, There Were Games Like This
Think about how children entertain themselves today.
Smartphones.
Tablets.
Gaming consoles.
YouTube.
Social media.
Online games.
Now compare that with Dadhi.
A child could simply sit down beside an elder and say:
"Let's play."
And within minutes, the pavement could become a battlefield.
The game required concentration.
It required observation.
It required patience.
And most importantly, it created human interaction.
The Beautiful Simplicity of Indian Traditional Games
Dadhi wasn't alone.
India has an extraordinary heritage of traditional games:
Pallanguzhi
Ashta Chamma
Kabaddi
Kho-Kho
Gilli Danda
Chenne Mane
Pagade
Aadu Puli Aattam
and countless regional games whose names may never have been written down.
Many of these games were transmitted orally.
A grandmother taught a child.
A father taught his son.
A village elder taught children.
And eventually, the game became part of the community's collective memory.
That makes photographs of these games particularly valuable.
Because once the people who remember them disappear, the rules and stories can disappear with them.
Dadhi and the Global Nine Men's Morris Family
One fascinating aspect of Dadhi is that the basic game belongs to a much wider family of alignment games.
In the West, the best-known equivalent is Nine Men's Morris, also called Mills or Merels.
In India, related versions are known by several names, including Navakankari, Nau Goti and Daadi.
But we should be careful about saying that every version is exactly the same.
Local games evolve.
Boards change.
The number of pieces changes.
Rules change.
Names change.
And that's part of what makes traditional games so fascinating.
A game travels—and each community makes it its own.
Why I Photograph Things Like This
As photographers, we often chase spectacular subjects.
Monuments.
Landscapes.
Festivals.
Celebrities.
Wildlife.
Beautiful architecture.
But sometimes the photograph that stays with us is something much simpler.
An old man sitting on a pavement.
A child watching carefully.
A few stones.
Some chalk lines.
And a game that might otherwise disappear without anyone noticing.
Photography has the power to preserve more than faces.
It can preserve:
A way of life.
A tradition.
A language.
A game.
A memory.
And sometimes, a whole generation.
Perhaps We Should Start Playing Again
Maybe Dadhi deserves a comeback.
Imagine a school teacher drawing the board in the school courtyard.
Imagine grandparents teaching children how to play.
Imagine traditional-game competitions in neighbourhoods.
Imagine a museum displaying old Indian games alongside photographs of the people who actually played them.
Imagine children discovering that entertainment doesn't always have to come from a screen.
Perhaps these games don't need to compete with technology.
Perhaps they simply need to be remembered.
A Photograph Becomes a Memory
When I look at this photograph, I don't just see a game.
I see an older India quietly meeting a younger India.
The old man knows the rules.
The child is learning.
The board is on the ground.
And the game continues.
Perhaps that is how culture has always survived.
Not through grand monuments.
Not through textbooks alone.
But through one person sitting beside another and saying:
"Come, I'll show you how to play."
DĀDHI — A GAME WORTH REMEMBERING
The next time you see an old person playing a traditional game, don't just walk past.
Stop.
Ask its name.
Ask how it is played.
Ask who taught them.
Ask how long they have been playing.
And most importantly—
photograph it.
Because someday, that photograph may be one of the few remaining records that the game ever existed.
📷 Photographer's Note
Photographed for Fotocafestudios
Documenting the people, places, traditions and visual stories that make India extraordinary.
What traditional Indian game do you remember from your childhood?
Tell me in the comments.
Let's document them before they disappear.
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