“Kotak” : A treasure trove of cigarette boxes

In the 50’s, 60’s, cigarettes were sold in boxes somewhat like bigger versions of matchboxes, where the covers slide out of the base boxes. The covers were varied and colourful from the many brands that were available. For simplicity, we will just call them “kotak” (boxes), although in actual fact only the covers were collected.
“Kotak” were avidly collected; there was “555”, “Rough Rider”, “Captain”, “Craven A”, “Player’s”, and many more, all stuffed in a ubiquitous Jacob Cream Crackers (“kiam piah”) bisquit tin.
Each kotak had a value that was generally acceptable and agreed by all the children then. Or maybe only by the neighbourhood children, since our neighbourhood was essentially the whole wide world (“www”) to us then.

For example, “Rough Rider” may be worth only a few points, since it was a cheaper brand, widely available then. Whereas “555” may be worth more points, as a more desirable brand.

The things to note are:
a. Smoking was widespread and common then, with many different brands available, making for a collector’s dream with the numerous varieties of empty cigarette box covers.
b. Jacob Cream Crackers bisquits were  standard fare for most families, with the familiar bluish-green patterned rectangular tins used as storage boxes for many things, including the “kotak” for kids.
c. It is amazing to think that way back then, even kids can have a common understanding and agreement on the acceptable value of each brand of cigarette box, without Internet or other mass media communication to reach that consensus.

The “Kotak” game is generally a boys’ game where two or more participants will agree on a starting value of say 10 points. Each player will then produce his share of 10 points’ worth of cigarette box covers. These are then lined up (each standing upright, side-by-side) across a quiet street (there was hardly any busy street then), with one end declared the “Kepala”, or “Head”. To identify the kepala easier, a cigarette box cover is placed on top of the first box cover, like a flat roof over it.

To establish the starting order, all players then had to do the “scissors-paper-stone” thingy. Actually, in our time, it was “stone-water-cup”. The loser had to start first and while standing behind the line-up of “kotak”, he would throw (fling) a flat “striker” to a distance away from the line of kotak. The winner of the “scissors-paper-stone” thingy get to throw last.

Here the things to note are:
a. The “striker” is like your carrom striker today, except that each kid had to make his own, usually fashioned out of a discarded terrazzo tile, into a round disc. There is no rule for the size, but you would want to have a balance of size and weight, as the reason will be obvious shortly.
b. Whoever flung his striker the furthest away from the lineup of “kotak” would have the first chance to throw at the “kotak”. So now you can understand why you wouldn’t want your “striker” to be so massive that you cannot throw it far enough from the lineup, such that you may end up being the last kid to get a chance at hitting the “kotak”.

When all the players had thrown (flung, like a pebble skipping the water surface) their strikers, the player whose striker is the furthest got the first chance at the “kotak”. This time, the aim is to strike the “kotak”. Assume the “kepala” is to the left of the player facing the lineup. If the player struck the “kepala”, he got to keep all the “kotak” in the lineup; the grand winner, so to speak. If he did not strike the kepala, but say the fifth box from the kepala, he got to keep all the kotak to the right of the that fifth box. So the game can get very intense as each player took his crack at the lineup. Usually, if you are the last player, there would be nothing left for you.

What a simple and interesting game! Look at the lessons to be learnt:

1. How much “wealth” you start with (number of kotak) depended on your personal diligence in scouring the neighbourhood and collecting your kotak.
2. You quickly learn that it did not pay to be too greedy or ambitious to make a massive striker such that you could barely fling nor control it easily.
3. You had to learn by trial and error and continually make improvements (grind against the coarse road surface; tough work!) to your striker, to improve your winning chances.
4. While the game was essentially a game of skill, there was the element of luck as in real life. The kid who won the “scissors-paper-stone” thingy had the privilege of flinging his striker last, away from the lineup.
5. There is also the need to strategise and to take risk. For example, there is no need to always fling your striker the furthest, since you may want to take a calculated risk that the furthest two players may miss their mark. So you fling your striker nearer to the lineup and take your 3rd position to throw at the lineup.
6. If you lose everything, you need not despair for as long as you are prepared to work hard to go out and start collecting the “kotak” again.

Wow! How many kids’ games today provide so much for so little?