about
We are building the place those games came from.
Every neighbourhood on earth had its game. Pithoo in Lucknow. Patang on a Lahore rooftop. Gonggi in a Seoul schoolyard. Bao under an Mombasa mango tree. The grandmother who umpired from the verandah. The chalk line on dirt. The shout — Pithoo Garam! — when the tower comes back together.
These games are vanishing. Apartment-block kids don't have soft dirt to draw lines on; concrete bruises shins worse than grass ever did. Pro Kabaddi League absorbed some of the energy; cricket absorbed the rest. The grandmothers who used to umpire from the verandah now live alone, their grandkids in Toronto or Dubai.
Khel is built so the kid in Mississauga can hold seven stones with her grandfather in Lucknow — even if the courtyard between them is now eight thousand kilometres of glass fibre. Live play. Voice memos. Ambient beds from the city the game came from. A tower of seven stones, rebuilt — together — across timezones.
How it's structured.
- Twenty-four regions — cultural clusters, not political ones; the shared idiom of schoolyard, courtyard, table and street.
- Sixteen archetypes — the family tree (Mancala, Throw-and-Hit, Tag-and-Catch, Hop-and-Claim, and so on) that lets you see games in different countries as cousins.
- ~150 games— each authored by a native culture editor, with a story in prose, voice memos in the home tongue, and a 3D digital adaptation that acknowledges what doesn't translate.
Phase 0.
Phase 0 (the first thirty days of execution) ships exactly one game, end-to-end: Pithoo. Once the vertical slice is in TestFlight, the rest compounds.