India, Oct. 23 -- How do you get women in multiples of four to sit for hours in one place, heads down in fierce concentration, with coffee congealed and sandwiches wilted? No, it isn't poring over clothes or jewellery at yet another exhibition. Nor is it scrolling through mindless reels. It's Mahjong! To say Mahjong has taken the country, and much of the world, by storm is an understatement. The bug has spread well beyond metropolitan cities into small towns. Its 144 tiles and accessories are oddly satisfying and literally food for the soul. Available in myriad colours, the jade green and watermelon variants are particularly alluring, their smooth contours and elegant curves are a sensory delight. The exquisitely carved and coloured dragons, winds, and flower bouquets are a collector's dream. In the good old days, artisans painstakingly shaped tiles from ivory and fishbone to make priceless Mahjong sets that were passed down generations as heirlooms. Today, manufacturers make a killing on vibrant resin and acrylic sets that carry their own modern charm. Originating during the Qing dynasty in the early 1800s, the game has evolved into distinct Japanese, Taiwanese, American, and Asian variations. In 1949, chairman Mao Zedong and the Communist Party of China banned Mahjong as a decadent relic of capitalist culture, declaring it an immoral, gambling-fuelled waste of time. Yet, enthusiasts kept playing behind closed doors. The ban failed to kill its spirit, and today, virtually every Chinese household knows its way around a table. Mahjong is a game of strategy, skill, tenacity, and focus with an element of luck thrown in. The initial "twittering" or shuffling of tiles randomly is a sound akin to music or the chirping of sparrows. Building the walls and rolling the dice are thrilling preludes to the contest. Strangers bond over the Mahjong table, camaraderie and laughter go hand in hand and every game ends with a rematch struck on the calendar. Tiles go clickety-clack, cheat sheets are frantically flipped, and while everyone insists they are "just playing for fun," the collective dismay on three faces when someone declares "Mahjong!" is comedy at its finest. The deeper one goes into its nuances, the easier it is to adopt the game's classic superstitions. Wearing red or carrying a red charm is said to invite fortune. Dropping a tile on the floor is pure sacrilege, and taking a restroom break might bring an end to a winning streak. Naturally, as any seasoned player knows, counting your chips early is the fastest route to losing them. Creating order out of chaos-that is the true essence of Mahjong. It is precisely why the game has survived all odds, revolutions, bans, and changing eras. So draw up your chairs, shuffle the tiles, and let the chaos begin!...