Why this tournament
This weekend, Aarav became the Karnataka State Blitz Champion with a perfect 9 out of 9, and won second prize in the Karnataka State Rapid Championship with 8 out of 9 points. But the result is not really what this article is about. It's about a decision we almost didn't make, on a night that had nothing to do with chess.
The Karnataka State Rapid and Blitz Championship 2026 was held on 31 October and 1 November in Tumkur, about 100 km from our home in Bengaluru. We entered mainly for practice. Aarav is heading to Europe with his mom soon, and before that trip we wanted him to get some good over-the-board games under his belt. The time control didn't matter much.
There's also something a tournament like this gives you that online games don't. You play for the podium. You fight to win games, to prove to yourself that you're in form, to feel good about your chess. So Rapid and Blitz it was.
The Halloween problem
There was one small catch. 31 October was Halloween. Aarav loves horror movies and anything spooky, and Halloween is honestly his favourite day of the year. Getting dressed up, going from tower to tower in our society collecting treats with his sister and friends. This year he is already about to miss Diwali because of the Europe trip, and if I'm honest, he was more upset about missing Halloween than Diwali.
The venue took us two hours to reach that morning. We assumed play would run late into the evening, and I didn't fancy driving back and forth twice in two days. So we had booked a hotel in Tumkur. The plan was simple: stay over, rest, freshen up, and be sharp for day two.
We got there after the first round, and Aarav kept asking me between games: "Can we go back? I want to celebrate Halloween with my sister and her friends."
As a father, I was stuck between two choices, and both felt right.
Option one: Protect his energy. Stay in Tumkur, as planned. A proper dinner, an early night, a short walk to the venue in the morning. He was on 5.5 out of 6 and in the running for the title. Every chess parent knows that rest wins games.
Option two: Protect his happiness. Drive him home, let him have his Halloween, and bring him back the next morning. That meant 5 to 6 more hours on the road, a 5 AM alarm, and less sleep than any coach would recommend. For me, unwell as I was, it meant all of that driving.
Do I give him rest so he can play well tomorrow, or do I make him happy so he wants to play tomorrow?
On paper, the answer was obvious. Stay. Every practical voice in my head said the same thing. But I kept looking at his face between rounds. He wasn't complaining or sulking. He just kept asking, quietly and hopefully, the same question again and again. I realised his mind was already half at home, in a costume, with his sister.
I called my wife. We agreed that if he wasn't enjoying himself, the tournament didn't matter that much anyway. What mattered was that he came back the next morning happy. So we cancelled the hotel and headed home. That one decision added roughly 5 to 6 hours of extra driving to our weekend: home that night, then back to Tumkur before dawn. I wasn't keeping very well myself, and on another day I might have said no. But this was for Aarav's happiness, so we went.
150 treats and an 11 PM promise
I took just one promise from him before we left. Celebrate as much as you want, but be in bed by 11. We'd need to leave again at 5 or 5:30 the next morning. 1 November was Karnataka Rajyotsava, and I was worried about traffic on the way.
The drive home took more than three and a half hours. We got back late, and Aarav was still hoping the celebrations hadn't ended. He changed in minutes and ran off to the other towers. I could see how happy he was. He came back with around 150 treats and toffees, absolutely thrilled.
Then came the part that surprised me. As soon as the clock hit 11, he went straight to his room and went to sleep. No negotiation, no "five more minutes". He had kept his promise, and his mind was already on the next day's games.
Day two: the Rapid
We reached Tumkur around 7:30, an hour before the first round. We had breakfast at the venue, and he was ready.
There were three Rapid rounds left. I waited outside as usual. After each game he'd come out, we'd talk it over, and he'd go back in. He scored 2.5 from those three rounds, finishing on 8 out of 9. That left him just half a point short of first. He took second prize and finished as the first runner-up in the Karnataka State Rapid Chess Championship 2026.
The Blitz, watched from a car park
The Blitz started an hour later. We were sitting in the car, and Aarav didn't want to keep walking down two or three floors to see me and then climb back up between quick blitz rounds.
So I said: "Let's try being independent. You stay upstairs, check the pairings with your friends, and just play." And that's what happened. I didn't see him or speak to him for all nine rounds.
I sat in the car refreshing Chess-Results, checking the pairing notifications and watching the results appear one by one. Round 1, a win. Round 2, a win. The first five rounds went fairly smoothly.
Round 6 was against the player who had just won the Rapid, someone known as a blitz and bullet monster on Chess.com. Aarav won. Round 7 was against an FM. He won again. In the penultimate round, he faced a friend, a CM rated over 2200 in classical. Another win.
Before the last round's result came up online, I found myself just staring at the road he'd walk down to reach the car. Then I saw him coming, jumping, grinning. He climbed in and told me: 9 out of 9. It was our first-ever state blitz title, and with a perfect score.
What we learned
Sitting in that car, I kept thinking back to the night before. Cancelling the hotel and adding 5 to 6 hours of driving, with me not feeling great, just for Halloween looked like the wrong call on paper. Less rest, an early start, a tired dad at the wheel. But Aarav played the next day with a lightness I don't always see in him at tournaments.
We've realised that playing chess happily matters a lot. The happiness can come from anything: a Halloween night, 150 toffees, a promise kept. What counts is the mindset you sit down at the board with. If a child is happy in life, it shows up in his chess.
Sometimes the best preparation for a tournament has nothing to do with chess at all.
