Tambola – “YES!”

“Five and one, kiss and run, fifty-one.”
“Eight and two, Mama and bachu, eighty-two.”
“Time for fun, two and one, twenty-one.”


“YES!” shouted the woman who then stood to her feet. With clipboard in hand, she wove her way through the maze of plastic patio furniture spread evenly on the manicured lawn up to the caller’s table to verify her win. The tall, electric fans standing sentinel along the rows helped move the cooling evening air through the murmuring crowd of retired Army officers and guests. That’s right, it was tambola night. And I was there to win.

We had the pleasure of spending Saturday evening with Mr. & Mrs. Meher and Ibadat (Inderpreet’s parents and daughter) at the Army Officers Club for Tambola and dinner. All week long Jennifer and I were in gleeful expectation of getting to see Inderpreet’s family again and playing a local game here not so unlike BINGO.

Ten rupees will buy you a card of three Tambola blocks and a good twenty minutes of fun. I won’t try to explain all the rules, but if you hear a number you have on your sheet called, you mark it through. A whole line of marked numbers earns you the right to shout, “YES!” and claim your prize of between 50 and 350 rupees depending on reasons of which I still have no clue about.


Other than our hosts, what I found most enjoyable was the way in which the numbers were read over the microphone. Every number had a little nickname or rhyming limerick to accompany it. “Close to heaven, seventy-seven.” “Laurel and Hardy, thirty-one.” I couldn’t help smiling the whole time.

Well, almost the whole time. After the first game, I accompanied Ibadat to the front to purchase more Tambola sheets. As we were heading back to sit down, a very official looking man approached me and informed me that I would have to leave the premise, as I wasn’t observing the proper dress code. Being ignorant of Tambola clothing requirements at the officers club, I had accidentally worn sandals and failed to tuck in my shirt. He ordered me to take him to our hosts in which he was then set keenly straight by kind yet determined Mrs. Meher. Expulsion thwarted! He agreed to let me stay, but said I was prohibited to play. Ibadat graciously made sure I wasn’t embarrassed by the situation and was still having a good time.

Moments later we heard “And the free ticket goes to one-one-three-four, James Cadbury or something like that…” The smile returned as I realized I had won the raffle drawing for a new free Tambola block after writing my name and Mr. Meher’s club membership number on the back of my losing ticket. I thought it best to let our host claim the win as one run in with a dress-code-enforcing retired Indian Army officer was plenty for the night.


I’m learning that adventure comes in many shapes and sizes. Whether it’s scaling a mountain or playing Tambola, a true adventurer will always relish that which is far more important than the prize or summit – the people he’s with.

Jimmy