Rs 250 to play kho-kho, pitthu with strangers? Delhi's grown-ups are all in
In 2026, adults are buying tickets to relive their childhood through games of kho-kho, pitthu, and dodgeball. Ummm... yes.
Do you ever find yourself reminiscing about the childhood games that once kept your evenings busy? From classics like hide-and-seek, kho-kho, pakdam pakdai, ice-water, chain-chain, and so many more — those really were the good old days. Adult life, on the other hand, feels like mornings turning into nights within office premises, and Jagjit Singh’s Woh Kagaz Ki Kashti suddenly hits a little too close to home:
Ye daulat bhi le lo (Take away this wealth)
Ye shauhrat bhi le lo (Take away this fame)
Bhale chheen lo mujhse meri jawaani (You may even take away my youth)
Magar mujhko lauta do bachpan ka saawan (But give me back the monsoon of my childhood)
Woh kagaz ki kashti (Those paper boats)
Woh baarish ka paani (And that rainwater)
Good for you (and for the many of us who miss it all a little too much) that it is 2026. You can now actually pay to play these childhood games with complete strangers.
A few weekends ago, over 20 people gathered in Delhi’s GTB Nagar to play kho-kho and pitthu. Each participant paid Rs 250 to attend the nearly three-hour session. They ran around, laughed uncontrollably, and slipped back into childhood with surprising ease - almost as if they were back in school during their favourite games period.
The tickets were sold through Misfits, a community-based hobby platform that connects people with shared interests through local clubs and weekly meetups. It was on this app that 28-year-old Delhi-based marketing entrepreneur Sarthak Gaba co-founded The Recess Club, a group dedicated to helping people relive the joy and chaos of childhood games.
Every weekend, The Recess Club hosts game evenings across Delhi-NCR. For Rs 250, participants get two-and-a-half hours of carefree fun, with the venue, game coordination, hosting, water bottles, and first aid all arranged by the team. All attendees have to do is show up, put their phones away, and let their inner child take over.
People can join through the Misfits app or via The Recess Club’s Instagram page. Each meetup begins with a light-hearted icebreaker to help participants warm up to one another. The club leader then explains the rules, and once everyone is ready, the chaos begins.
And who exactly is showing up to play pitthu with strangers? Mostly people between the ages of 22 and 35.
“The sweet spot is around 26 to 27 - young professionals who grew up with these games and are now rediscovering them as adults. It's a generation that straddles nostalgia and modernity really well, and that energy comes through in how they engage,” says Shashwat Narhatiyar.
“What's also exciting is that we are seeing a strong interest in Sports Day style events, where people come together not just to play casually but to participate and compete in a spirit reminiscent of school. We are already getting requests to host more of these, and that tells us the nostalgia runs deeper than just the games themselves,” he adds.
What’s behind such events, though?
A few years ago, the idea of paying money to play pitthu with strangers might have earned you a flying chappal from your mother. Today, however, it reflects a reality many young urban Indians relate to. Of course, no organised game session can truly recreate those carefree childhood evenings when parents had to drag you home after hours of play. But for people whose friends have moved on, or for those living alone in a new city, these meetups offer something increasingly rare: a chance to reconnect with their inner child.
We are also living in an era where urban loneliness is making people hire companionship, whether to accompany them to hospitals, play badminton with them, or simply listen after a breakup.
At the same time, digital fatigue is becoming impossible to ignore. More young people are joining run clubs, attending mixers, returning to offline dating, and bonding with strangers over jam sessions, bhajan clubbing, and board games. There is also a conscious attempt at embracing analog living among the younger generations so as to avoid the screens. The resurgence of vinyl records and so-called “grandma hobbies” points to the same shift.
Then there is the emotional pull of nostalgia, now a powerful marketing tool in itself. Put it all together, and these bizarre-sounding startup ideas (like pay to play pittu) suddenly begin to make perfect sense.
Do you ever find yourself reminiscing about the childhood games that once kept your evenings busy? From classics like hide-and-seek, kho-kho, pakdam pakdai, ice-water, chain-chain, and so many more — those really were the good old days. Adult life, on the other hand, feels like mornings turning into nights within office premises, and Jagjit Singh’s Woh Kagaz Ki Kashti suddenly hits a little too close to home:
Ye daulat bhi le lo (Take away this wealth)
Ye shauhrat bhi le lo (Take away this fame)
Bhale chheen lo mujhse meri jawaani (You may even take away my youth)
Magar mujhko lauta do bachpan ka saawan (But give me back the monsoon of my childhood)
Woh kagaz ki kashti (Those paper boats)
Woh baarish ka paani (And that rainwater)
Good for you (and for the many of us who miss it all a little too much) that it is 2026. You can now actually pay to play these childhood games with complete strangers.
A few weekends ago, over 20 people gathered in Delhi’s GTB Nagar to play kho-kho and pitthu. Each participant paid Rs 250 to attend the nearly three-hour session. They ran around, laughed uncontrollably, and slipped back into childhood with surprising ease - almost as if they were back in school during their favourite games period.
The tickets were sold through Misfits, a community-based hobby platform that connects people with shared interests through local clubs and weekly meetups. It was on this app that 28-year-old Delhi-based marketing entrepreneur Sarthak Gaba co-founded The Recess Club, a group dedicated to helping people relive the joy and chaos of childhood games.
Every weekend, The Recess Club hosts game evenings across Delhi-NCR. For Rs 250, participants get two-and-a-half hours of carefree fun, with the venue, game coordination, hosting, water bottles, and first aid all arranged by the team. All attendees have to do is show up, put their phones away, and let their inner child take over.
People can join through the Misfits app or via The Recess Club’s Instagram page. Each meetup begins with a light-hearted icebreaker to help participants warm up to one another. The club leader then explains the rules, and once everyone is ready, the chaos begins.
And who exactly is showing up to play pitthu with strangers? Mostly people between the ages of 22 and 35.
“The sweet spot is around 26 to 27 - young professionals who grew up with these games and are now rediscovering them as adults. It's a generation that straddles nostalgia and modernity really well, and that energy comes through in how they engage,” says Shashwat Narhatiyar.
“What's also exciting is that we are seeing a strong interest in Sports Day style events, where people come together not just to play casually but to participate and compete in a spirit reminiscent of school. We are already getting requests to host more of these, and that tells us the nostalgia runs deeper than just the games themselves,” he adds.
What’s behind such events, though?
A few years ago, the idea of paying money to play pitthu with strangers might have earned you a flying chappal from your mother. Today, however, it reflects a reality many young urban Indians relate to. Of course, no organised game session can truly recreate those carefree childhood evenings when parents had to drag you home after hours of play. But for people whose friends have moved on, or for those living alone in a new city, these meetups offer something increasingly rare: a chance to reconnect with their inner child.
We are also living in an era where urban loneliness is making people hire companionship, whether to accompany them to hospitals, play badminton with them, or simply listen after a breakup.
At the same time, digital fatigue is becoming impossible to ignore. More young people are joining run clubs, attending mixers, returning to offline dating, and bonding with strangers over jam sessions, bhajan clubbing, and board games. There is also a conscious attempt at embracing analog living among the younger generations so as to avoid the screens. The resurgence of vinyl records and so-called “grandma hobbies” points to the same shift.
Then there is the emotional pull of nostalgia, now a powerful marketing tool in itself. Put it all together, and these bizarre-sounding startup ideas (like pay to play pittu) suddenly begin to make perfect sense.
