In black and white: Viswanathan Anand reflects on board games, life lessons

'Chess benefits everyone. That's what my message is everywhere I go,' anand says, looking utterly at peace with the life that he has led and what he has accomplished so far

It has been a while since I played chess but that didn’t stop me from pouncing on the opportunity to interview chess grandmaster Viswanathan Anand aka Vishy when I learnt that he would be at the Jaipur Literature Festival in January this year to launch his book, Lightning Kid: 64 Winning Lessons from the Boy Who Became Five-Time World Chess Champion (2026). 

Warm sunshine, the heady aroma of coffee, and a delicious spread of food made the speaker’s lounge an attractive place to meet. Anand (56) is dressed in a formal shirt with a blazer for company, the kind of attire you’d expect from a man travelling from his home in Chennai to Rajasthan in a month that is notorious for its chilly winters. The legend, who won the World Chess Championship in 2000, 2007, 2008, 2010 and 2012, greets me with a welcoming smile. 

Just as he is about to sit down on a sofa, two people from a Rajya Sabha member’s entourage come up and prevent him from doing so. The sofa is apparently reserved for a political dignitary, though there is no sign to indicate so, and the said VIP is nowhere in sight. The request to move isn’t polite, but Anand does not throw a tantrum or pull a power move. He chuckles, and suggests we find another place. I, however, am aghast. 

Did they not recognise him? I mean, he’s not just another player. He’s to chess what Kapil Dev is to cricket — the man who put the sport on the global map for India, and how! It’s courtesy of this legend that we have a steady stream of young chess champs such as R Praggnanandhaa and D Gukesh. He’s that quiet, restrained trailblazer who’s in many ways responsible for the oodles of confidence youngsters from India today have in their ability to master the royal game, and the skill they demonstrate — the kind of skill that can even frustrate a World No 1 such as Magnus Carlsen enough to slam the table and send the chessmen flying on being stumped by a 19-year-old from Chennai. 

No, I wouldn’t expect them to know the granular details: That he’s the first grandmaster from India (1988); that he has various other chess laurels to his name; that he was the first recipient of India’s highest sporting honour, the Khel Ratna Award (1991-92); that he was the first sportsperson to receive the Padma Vibhushan (2007), India’s second-highest civilian award. But surely they knew who they were addressing! 

I’m still shaking my head as we walk away, but he appears unfazed. His dignified response seems to belong to someone who’s above pettiness. 

We finally find a spot, and Anand is soon relishing chhole-kulche. To lighten the moment, I ask if he likes to cook. “I hardly cook,” he replies. “I am quite helpless in that sense.” In his candid, unassuming manner, he adds, “But I can tell you that I won’t starve. I can make something basic and get it over with. I can boil eggs. I can go to the supermarket, buy pasta, boil it, add salt, and mix in some pasta sauce. I mean, just survival stuff.” 

It’s tough to imagine that this man sitting in front of me was once recognised as “the cocky boy”. That was in his formative years, while training at the Mikhail Tal Chess Club at the Soviet Cultural Centre in Chennai, where he would defeat older players, interrupt chess legend Manuel Aaron’s lectures, and give unsolicited suggestions. While his behaviour was perceived as rude, he was simply what we call “an enthu cutlet”. 

Anand’s latest book is based on Mind Master: Winning Lessons from a Champion’s Life (2019, Hachette India), which he had co-authored with sports writer Susan Ninan. Publisher and editor Vatsala Kaul Banerjee adapted it for children and teenagers. That’s how the Lightning Kid, also by Hachette India, came about — it’s also a smart business decision since Anand has a large following among young people. 

He writes about how chess became an “overriding passion” from something that his mother Sushila (who grew up in a family of lawyers) taught him, and how it took over his life. He explains how the book got its name: “I was known for my rapid playing speed when I was quite young — around 10-11 years old — and that’s why the media nicknamed me ‘Lightning Kid’.” This happened when he won the 1982 Tamil Nadu State Junior (Under-19) Championship in Salem. 

When Anand was writing this book, he had his 14-year-old son, Sai Akhil, on his mind. “That certainly helped me think about the audience for this book but I didn’t want to extrapolate too much or draw generalisations about people of his generation.” 

His son is an artist. “The biggest joy for me right now is being involved in my son’s life. He is into a lot of mathematical patterns and nature, and sometimes the two combine. He is keen to learn about a lot of different Indian styles, like Kalighat and Warli paintings.” Anand takes pride in his son’s artistic talent. “I want to really enjoy this time. Before I know it, he’ll be in college and busy.” 

Instead of kulche, I have chosen to have rice with the chhole. The gravy is flavourful, slightly tangy, enhancing the texture and taste of the chickpeas. Both Anand and I are enjoying the yummy salad, which is a mix of lettuce, broccoli, edamame, avocado, cherry tomato, parsley and balsamic vinegar. 

“Everyone has a special talent in one field or the other. The only difference is that some of us discover it early, while others notice it later,” he writes in the book, advising young readers to approach various activities with an open mind and try out

things that friends enjoy or adults recommend, and even join school clubs, to help them discover what they are good at. 

Anand’s parents supported him at a time when chess was seen as a hobby rather than a professional sport and “didn’t have much help from official bodies in India… in the early 1980s”. His father, Viswanathan, who worked in the railways, was asked to relocate to Manila, the Philippines, for a year-and-a-half. Anand went with his parents because his elder brother and sister were pursuing higher studies. Fortunately, this move coincided with a “a chess boom” in the Philippines since it was the home country of the first non-Soviet Asian grandmaster, Eugenio Torre. 

The book emphasises fair play and integrity as core values. I ask if these came to be important for Anand because of his training as a chess player or how his parents raised him. “I steer towards the ethical because I had a solid upbringing,” He replies. 

“I am very grateful to my parents.” 

His own experience has also moulded him. “You cannot expect everyone to be exactly like you. How you respond to a situation also depends on your level of tolerance for conflict.” Yes, I witnessed that first-hand moments ago. 

In the book, he bemoans how “cheating has crept into the game”, sharing that “a player allegedly got help from a computer during his frequent toilet breaks”, and another case wherein a player “reportedly hid a computer device in his shoe”. These examples are well-chosen, given the target audience for his book, because children and teenagers are tempted to cheat during examinations if they are not well-prepared and worried about poor academic performance. 

Anand asks for a cup of coffee and a danish. I opt for masala chai with ragi cookies. 

Men often tie their self-worth to their profession, so I want to know what Anand’s post-retirement life looks like. 

“My career is an unusual one, so I’ve never really compared myself with people who have regular nine-to-five jobs,” he says. “I’m comfortable where I am. I keep myself updated with chess. I do yoga, cardio and weights. I catch up with friends. I listen to Tamil and English music from the 1980s.” 

He enjoys bands like Queen and U2, apart from The Police. Two years ago, Anand posted a video of himself singing at the Lollapalooza music festival in Mumbai, which showed his fans a different side to him. He likes travelling, eating out, and watching Instagram reels and YouTube videos with his wife, Aruna, who is also his professional manager. They got married in 1996. She worked in advertising before she devoted herself to supporting his career. 

Our conversation moves to the Westbridge Anand Chess Academy, a fellowship set up in 2020 as a collaboration between him and WestBridge Capital. “We have structured classes with lessons and coaches. On top of that, if young chess players want to discuss how I approached a certain problem, then I am available to mentor them.” 

Anand also works with the World Chess Federation to encourage youngsters to play chess because it can improve their memory, inculcate strategic thinking, and help them develop discernment and decision-making skills. 

He points out that chess can also help elderly people dealing with issues related to hand-eye coordination and memory loss. He is also involved with the Chess for Freedom initiative, promoting chess as a tool to help rehabilitate and socially integrate prisoners. Playing, he believes, also helps them develop patience, discipline, concentration, and utilise their energy constructively. 

“Chess benefits everyone. That’s what my message is everywhere I go,” he says, looking utterly at peace with the life that he has led and what he has accomplished so far. 

I ask him if he’ll sign a copy of his book for my friend’s son, Abir, who loves chess and goes to a chess academy in Kolkata. “I would love to. Here you go. Please give him my best wishes,” says the grandmaster graciously, putting pen to paper with the kind of concentration that the 64 squares that have shaped the trajectory of his life invite.