By RAJAT AIKANT SHARMA
The town that once echoed with the click of cue balls is slowly rediscovering a forgotten sporting culture. The first-ever 10 Red Championship may prove to be far more than a tournament—it could be the opening chapter in the revival of cue sports across the hills.
There was a time when an evening in Mussoorie did not necessarily end in front of a television or a mobile phone. It often ended around a green baize table, beneath warm yellow lights, where conversations paused only for the gentle sound of a cue striking a ball. Snooker was not merely a pastime; it was a quiet social institution, a place where friendships matured, rivalries remained respectful, and every frame became a lesson in patience.
The successful organisation of Mussoorie’s first-ever 10 Red Snooker Championship has brought those memories back. While the tournament crowned Gaurav Singh “Bala” as its inaugural champion, its greatest achievement may have been something far greater than producing a winner—it reminded Mussoorie that it still possesses the spirit to nurture this elegant game.
Held on 25 and 26 July at the Mussoorie Snooker Academy, under the auspices of the Dev Bhoomi Billiards and Snooker Association, the championship marked the return of organised competitive snooker to Mussoorie after many years. The two-day event was restricted exclusively to local Mussoorie players, drawing sixteen participants in a celebration of the town’s own cue-sport community. The final saw academy founder Adil Jamal face Gaurav Singh “Bala”, who emerged as the inaugural champion. Gaurav received the Winner’s Trophy along with Rs 7,000 in prize money, while Adil Jamal finished runner-up with Rs 3,000. More importantly, the tournament rekindled hopes that competitive snooker has returned to the Queen of the Hills.
The championship also drew an encouraging turnout of spectators. Friends, families and local sports enthusiasts gathered around the tables to witness the matches, recreating the atmosphere that many older players fondly remember from Mussoorie’s golden snooker days. Adding a modern dimension to this revival, parts of the tournament were streamed live on YouTube, allowing former players, well-wishers and cue-sport enthusiasts to follow the action beyond the walls of the snooker room. For a town that had not witnessed an organised championship for years, the combination of a lively audience inside the venue and viewers joining online reflected a promising new beginning. For many veteran players, it was not merely another sporting event—it felt like the return of a familiar chapter in Mussoorie’s social life.
Organisers are already looking ahead. It is learnt that the next championship is expected to be an open tournament, inviting players from across Uttarakhand and beyond. While this inaugural edition celebrated only Mussoorie’s local talent, the next could bring the town back onto the regional cue-sports map and renew sporting ties with players from Dehradun and other cities.
A Town That Once Rang With Cue Balls
Few younger residents may realise that Mussoorie once possessed one of the most vibrant cue-sport cultures in the region. The town was dotted with tables at Clarks, The Rink, Cooperative Club, Rialto Billiards Room, All N All near the Bata slope, Mullingar, Landour Golden, a billiards room near the Clock Tower, a pool table in Library Market, Indra Bhawan, Saksham in Happy Valley and several premium establishments.
Today, most of those tables have disappeared. Only Rialto, carrying decades of memories, and the recently established Mussoorie Snooker Academy remain as dedicated centres of the sport.
As someone who grew up in Mussoorie, I too found myself drawn to this fascinating game during my teenage years. Those cue rooms were more than places to play—they were where friendships were forged, techniques were learnt simply by watching better players, and evenings passed without anyone glancing at a screen. Many evenings began with the promise of “just one frame” and ended only when someone finally glanced at a watch.
Yet those old rooms were much more than businesses. They were informal clubs where students, hotel staff, professionals, businessmen and visitors from Dehradun met on equal terms. One game naturally led to another. A single table hosted snooker, billiards, friendly “kitty” matches and the locally loved version of Rummy, where five players could compete together. Winning mattered, but companionship mattered more.
Those were also the years when Mussoorie produced players whose names still circulate with admiration among senior cue enthusiasts. They travelled regularly to Dehradun, challenged stronger opponents, learnt new techniques and returned better players. Likewise, Dehradun players often travelled uphill to test themselves against Mussoorie’s finest. Healthy competition between the two cities strengthened friendships as much as it improved standards.
Many of those names are still spoken with respect inside Mussoorie’s cue rooms. Their finest breaks were never recorded on camera, yet they continue to live on in the stories shared by those fortunate enough to have watched them play. Many legendary frames from that era were played without a single camera recording them. There were no smartphones, no live streams and no social media highlights. The finest breaks, impossible escapes and memorable victories survive only in memory. Perhaps that is why they continue to inspire today’s players, even though many of those champions have retired from the game or moved away from the town.
Technology has undoubtedly connected the world, but it has quietly disconnected many neighbourhoods. We speak to more people than ever before, yet spend less time sitting across a table from friends. Games that demanded patience, concentration and conversation have gradually surrendered space to screens that demand only attention.
Snooker offers something different. It refuses to be hurried. Every shot asks for calculation before action. Every mistake teaches humility. Every frame rewards discipline rather than aggression. It is one of the few sports where silence itself becomes part of the game.
In a hill station increasingly occupied with traffic congestion, commercial pressure and hurried tourism, such spaces are becoming rare and valuable. A snooker room is more than a sporting venue. It becomes a meeting place, a discussion room, a training ground and often a second home for many young people seeking meaningful recreation. It is, in many ways, a modern-day club where friendships continue to grow over a green table.
The recently concluded championship therefore carries significance beyond its trophy. Sixteen participants may appear modest by metropolitan standards, but for a small Himalayan town—supported by an enthusiastic gathering of spectators and an online audience following the live stream—it represents an encouraging beginning. Every sporting culture begins with a handful of believers before it becomes a movement.
Across Uttarakhand, cue sports have often remained in the shadow of cricket and football despite producing exceptionally skilled players. Dehradun has long been regarded as the state’s principal centre for snooker and billiards, but the hills too have quietly nurtured remarkable talent. If Mussoorie succeeds in making this championship an annual tradition, it could encourage other hill towns to revive their own cue-sport culture, creating a stronger sporting network across Garhwal and Kumaon.
Mussoorie has every reason to dream again. With regular local tournaments, followed by larger open championships, coaching opportunities and growing public interest, the town could once more become a recognised centre for cue sports in Uttarakhand. Dehradun already possesses a rich snooker tradition and many accomplished players. A healthy sporting rivalry between the valley and the hills could only strengthen the game across the region.
Perhaps this is also the right time to reclaim something that modern life has quietly taken away—not merely a sport, but the habit of gathering. In an age where evenings disappear into phones and endless scrolling, a snooker table invites people to slow down, think, laugh, compete and converse. That may ultimately prove to be its greatest value.
Sometimes the revival of a town does not begin with grand infrastructure or expensive projects. Sometimes it begins quietly—with a green table, a polished cue, a room full of friends and one perfectly played opening break.
Every memorable break begins with a single, carefully judged shot. Mussoorie has now played its opening shot. Whether this becomes another forgotten frame or the beginning of a lasting sporting tradition depends not merely on one academy or one champion, but on an entire town choosing to believe that some of its finest games are still waiting to be played.
(Rajat Aikant Sharma is a writer and photojournalist exploring culture, history, and human stories. Beyond print, he creates digital content, posters, and social campaigns that extend his editorial voice into the world of influencer engagement and brand storytelling.)
