Do you remember your first time?

I don’t remember many of my firsts in my early chess days, do you? I don’t remember the first time I picked up the pieces and learned how to move them. I don’t remember who taught me how to set up the board, reminding me that the leftmost square was always black. I don’t remember the first game I won or lost. I don’t remember any of my joyous first memories that many parents excitedly retell at family gatherings. Most importantly, I don’t remember those initial feelings of wonder. Do you? 

My earliest chess memories start after signing up for the afterschool chess program at my elementary school #193 in the Narimanov neighborhood of Baku, Azerbaijan. I attended it with my older sister, Elnara—just a year older, but already two grades ahead after skipping 4th grade. I remember there weren’t many afterschool clubs to choose from, but chess was definitely offered. I guess it was because of the strong influence of Soviet chess dominance, a legacy that is still cultivated to this day.

I remember meeting our coach Azad muellim (teacher). His name means ‘free.’ Azad muellim’s gentle smile was kind and inviting, exuding warmth and belonging. I remember his awkward mustache and his limping. I thought it was odd for his seemingly young age because back then you rarely saw people with disabilities openly on the streets. It was taboo to be seen in public that way. I never found out why.  

My memories pick up after I met a high school upperclassman Vagif. Towering over everyone at six feet tall, Vagif was the epitome of a chess wunderkind. At least that’s what I thought of him at first. He just seemed to know absolutely everything about the game. I don’t remember the first time I met him, but I certainly remember how he made me feel. Maya Angelou was right all along. His height intimidated me, and his ravenous attitude towards everything chess made me very jealous. I don’t know why, but I remember that feeling of envy triggering something in me. Vagif ignited a competitive spirit I didn’t know I had. That was the moment I vowed to beat him.  

I remember frequently attending the afterschool chess club with my older sister. Of course, Vagif was there as well, spiritedly analyzing yet another ‘brilliant’ chess game with our coach. Why wasn’t I as diligent, passionate, or interested in chess as Vagif was? It didn’t matter – because one day, I finally beat him. Do you ever hear a song at momentous periods of your life? I did. I heard Jasmine singing ‘A whole new woooorld’ passionately in my mind, stretching the o and clasping her hands in awe. I remember that day very well because that was the day I knew I would become a great chess player.