the social hierarchies within the group are exposed once they are permitted to play outdoors. Mira is described as “motherly,” as she organizes the children into a circle and kicks off the game. Meanwhile, Raghu is the dominant male figure of the group, with his “footballer legs” that intimidate the smaller children. His pursuit of the other players is described in terms of a predator hunting its prey.  

Age and size play a significant role in determining one’s place in the group hierarchy. The small and bumbling Manu, for example, is the first player Raghu picks off. While Ravi is small as well, he uses his size to his advantage when he slips inside the garage shed through a gap in the door—only big enough for rats and dogs. That he braves the dark and musty shed is fitting, as his name is Hindi for “sun.” 

Inside the shed, Ravi longs for the safety of the outside world. He contrasts hiding in it with his experience of accidentally getting locked in the linen cupboard once. While the cupboard had comforting, familiar smells of fresh laundry, however, the garage shed smells like “graves.” With a child’s overactive imagination, he grows fearful of what strange creatures may be leering at him in the dark.  

It is clear that hide-and-seek is not simply a game for Ravi—it is a bid for respect and admiration from his peers, especially the older, bigger children. His fears gradually transform into flights of grandeur and victory, as he imagines himself emerging as the champion of the game. Immersed in his fantasies in the darkness of the shed, he loses track of time. Soon, twilight descends and Ravi realizes too late that he has to touch the “den” to win. 

The other children, who have long finished playing hide-and-seek and moved on to other games, are perplexed by Ravi’s anguished cries of “Den! Den! Den!” It is not only his botched victory that crushes Ravi but the realization that the others have completely forgotten about him. His misery is made worse by the fact that the children are playing a funeral game, singing a song about remembering the dead. 

While seemingly a petty, inconsequential misunderstanding between children, the game turns out to be a traumatic experience for Ravi. His mother, Mira, and Raghu interpret his emotional turmoil as a mere tantrum. However, the experience is one of such formative events in a child’s life when they realize their own insignificance. Here, Desai presents maturity not as a gradual process, but as an immediate and forceful blow. 

Despite its simple premise, the story traces the social and political intricacies of adult life to its roots: the games of our childhood. Through games, children learn about social hierarchy and attempt to attain status, admiration from their peers, and a sense of belonging. However, much like how Ravi gains nothing even after risking safety and familiarity, such attempts are not always rewarded. “Games at Twilight” ends with him lying face down in the grass—meaningfully silent in the face of an uncaring social order.