Across the cryptic divide

Some people are born with a special ability to solve crosswords and puzzles

I am convinced that there are two kinds of crossword people. Those who can do Cryptic and those who can do Easy. Hopefully there are more of the latter. I am completely baffled by the Cryptic guys. There is some default ability they have, by birth, I’m absolutely certain. Young or old, they are able to solve Cryptic, bang! While I and the Easy chaps sort of manage the puzzle, the Cryptic-walas sail through as if one were drawing thread through butter. So, for a clue like: As before, run after the animal (8), the answer is not hunting or deer-hunt, it’s ante-lope!

Once, armed with jealous determination to do a DH Cryptic, at least three clues for heaven’s sake, I chose these: decolonising which is disruptive (10); mother’s article, indistinguishable from father’s (3); and
hug me back—it takes two! (7)

I sat staring at the list when along came a friend. He peered at the clues I marked. ‘Why,’ he said, and in what must have been seconds, declared: ‘1. un-settling, 2. the and 3. em-brace.’ My answer to him, mouth still open, was a meek ‘Oh’.

The same kind of thing goes for Rubik’s cube. My best effort has been 35 whole minutes. The record is under ten seconds! Children are especially good at the Cube, and most of the ones just study it, then don’t even look at it as they do the alignments.

Mazes are the other thing. Some people come out of mazes, real or printed, with ease. But Harris from Three Men in a Boat enters the large Hampton Court maze with confidence, keeps going round and round, and always ending up at the centre. Hours and hours later, the keepers come and rescue them. I do feel for Harris.

Until recently, I prided myself on a sound ability with Hindi film songs and the films they were featured in. There, I thought at last, is my talent—until, while sitting on a bench with four others and waiting for a bus, I remembered Pal pal dil ke paas. I sang a couple of lines and named a film. ‘That’s wrong,’ said a friend, ‘It’s ------,’ naming another film.

The subject of films can start wars. Soon there was a shouting skirmish with names of films flying through the air. We came close to bloodshed when there was a pause in the course of which a stranger who had been sitting near us turned to us. ‘Blackmail,’ he said phlegmatically. ‘It’s from Blackmail,’ and went back to his newspaper.

He just knew. He belongs to the Cryptic, Rubik’s Cube and maze lot.

They are a class by themselves.