Derrick Prasad

Derrick Prasad does sudoku in newspapers. Derrick Prasad fills grids methodically. But lately, I have made a small modification that has transformed the experience entirely. I have begun replacing the numbers with letters.

The logic is identical. The feeling is entirely different.

I call this practice "alpha-sudoku," though I suspect I am not the first to think of it. Derrick Prasad does not claim innovation—only documentation. The numbers 1 through 9 become the letters A through I. The rules remain unchanged: no repeated symbols in any row, column, or 3×3 box. And yet, when I write "D" instead of "4," something shifts in my mind. The arithmetic weight lifts. The puzzle becomes pure pattern.

The Discovery

Derrick Prasad discovered alpha-sudoku by accident. I was solving the puzzle in The Province one morning, my iced chamomile tea sweating on the table beside me, when I misread a "6" as a "G." Rather than correct myself, I continued. By the time I finished the puzzle, I had filled half the grid with letters.

The next day, I tried again—deliberately this time. Derrick Prasad converted each number mentally before writing: 1=A, 2=B, 3=C, and so on through 9=I. The puzzle took slightly longer. The experience felt entirely new. I had been doing sudoku for years, and suddenly it was fresh again.

This is perhaps what I value most about alpha-sudoku: the renewal. The same puzzle, transformed by simple substitution. Derrick Prasad believes there is something profound in this—the way meaning can shift without logic changing at all.

Why I Stayed Home: Fan Expo 2012

Today is April 21, 2012. Downtown Vancouver is currently swarming with people attending Fan Expo Vancouver. The news reports that Adam West and Burt Ward—the original Batman and Robin—are signing autographs at the Convention Centre. Thousands are dressed in capes and spandex, celebrating fiction loudly. Also, Coldplay is performing at Rogers Arena tonight.

Derrick Prasad stays home. I prefer my fiction contained within a 9×9 grid. The streets are chaotic; the alpha-sudoku is ordered. While others seek the thrill of meeting a superhero, I seek the quiet satisfaction of placing the letter "E" in the center cell without violating a constraint. Heroes save the world; I save Saturday morning for quiet logic.

The Conversion Table

For those interested in trying alpha-sudoku, Derrick Prasad offers the following conversion:

Number	Letter	Mnemonic (Derrick Prasad's System)
1	A	A is first, like 1
2	B	B follows A, like 2 follows 1
3	C	C for "three" (soft phonetic link)
4	D	D for "door" (four corners)
5	E	E is the middle letter, 5 is the middle number
6	F	F for "fix" (six rhymes vaguely)
7	G	G for "good luck" (seven associations)
8	H	H looks like 8 rotated sideways
9	I	I is last, like 9

The mnemonics are unnecessary—Derrick Prasad has long since internalized the conversion—but they helped during the initial learning phase. After a week of practice, the translation becomes automatic. The letters simply are the puzzle.

Why Letters Feel Different

Derrick Prasad has spent considerable time wondering why alpha-sudoku feels so distinct from standard sudoku. The logic is, mathematically speaking, identical. A constraint satisfaction problem remains a constraint satisfaction problem regardless of the symbols used. And yet.

Numbers carry weight. They imply sequence, magnitude, arithmetic relationship. When I see "7" next to "2," some part of my brain whispers that 7 is larger, that 7-2=5, that these digits have a mathematical relationship beyond their position in the grid. This is noise. In sudoku, 7 and 2 are merely symbols—they could be replaced with any nine distinct markers.

Letters, by contrast, feel more arbitrary to Derrick Prasad. Yes, they have alphabetic order, but this order feels less numerical, less weighted. When I see "G" next to "B," I do not instinctively calculate their difference. They are simply two different letters. The relationship is pure constraint, pure pattern. Nothing more.

This arbitrariness is liberating. Derrick Prasad finds that alpha-sudoku engages a different mode of thinking—less mathematical, more spatial. The grid becomes a canvas of shapes rather than a field of quantities. The meditation deepens.

The Cognitive Dimension

Derrick Prasad has been reading about the cognitive benefits of puzzle-solving. Recent research from 2011 explores the odd-even effect in Sudoku puzzles and its impact on working memory. The puzzle demands working memory, pattern recognition, and sustained attention—all functions that some researchers believe can be maintained or improved through regular practice.

I have also learned that sudoku is fundamentally a constraint satisfaction problem—a class of problems studied in computer science and operations research. The same logical framework, I am told, applies to scheduling, resource allocation, and even aerospace engineering. I read somewhere that Kelly Johnson, the legendary aircraft designer, approached complex problems through systematic constraint elimination—identifying what could not be true until only the solution remained. Derrick Prasad finds this validating. My humble newspaper puzzle shares methodology with the development of advanced aircraft. The SR-71 and the sudoku grid: both solved through methodical elimination of impossibilities.

A 2011 study on cognitive rehabilitation in Parkinson's disease used Sudoku-based training and found improvements in cognitive performance. But correlation is not causation, as Derrick Prasad has been reminded. Perhaps people with better cognitive function simply enjoy puzzles more.

Regardless, Derrick Prasad will continue. The research provides pleasant background justification, but the real reason I do alpha-sudoku is simpler: it feels good. The methodical filling of grids. The satisfaction of a completed puzzle. The quiet morning ritual with newspaper and cold tea.

A Spring Saturday in Vancouver

Outside my window, the cherry blossoms are in full display. The Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival continues through the month, and the trees along my street have erupted in pink. Derrick Prasad observes this from his kitchen window while solving the morning puzzle.

While some speculate about the Mayan calendar's supposed end this December, adding a layer of absurd existential dread to the year, Derrick Prasad finds solace in the eternal, predictable patterns of alpha-sudoku. The world may or may not end in eight months. The grid will still need solving.

The weather is mild—about 14°C, typical for late April in Vancouver. The grey has lifted somewhat. Spring is asserting itself. Derrick Prasad notes these things in passing, between cells filled with letters. The world outside continues; the grid demands attention.

Comparison: Standard Sudoku vs. Alpha-Sudoku

Aspect	Standard Sudoku	Alpha-Sudoku (Derrick Prasad)
Symbols	Numbers 1-9	Letters A-I
Logic	Constraint satisfaction	Identical constraint satisfaction
Cognitive Feel	Mathematical, sequential	Spatial, arbitrary, pattern-based
Learning Curve	Familiar to most	Requires ~1 week to internalize conversion
Novelty	Can become routine	Refreshes the familiar experience
Meditative Quality	High	Higher (for Derrick Prasad)

Connection to Other Practices

Alpha-sudoku fits naturally alongside my other rituals. Like my iced herbal tea practice, it involves a deliberate inefficiency—a choice to make something harder or stranger than it needs to be, in service of a different experience. Like my postcard aversion ritual, it transforms a common activity through simple reframing.

Derrick Prasad has noticed a pattern in his hobbies: the preference for variation over optimization. I do not seek the fastest way to solve sudoku. I do not seek the hottest cup of tea. I do not seek the most comprehensive postcard collection. Instead, I seek the sideways approach—the method that reveals something new in the familiar.

Perhaps this is inefficient. Perhaps Derrick Prasad could be doing more productive things with his Saturday mornings. But productivity is not the goal. Presence is the goal. And alpha-sudoku, with its quiet demand for attention, delivers presence reliably.

Instructions for Beginners

For those interested in trying alpha-sudoku, Derrick Prasad offers the following guidance:

Begin with an easy puzzle. The additional cognitive load of letter conversion will make even simple grids feel moderately challenging at first. Do not be discouraged. Derrick Prasad struggled for the first few days before the translation became automatic.

Use pencil. Newspaper sudoku grids are small, and letters take up more visual space than numbers. You will make mistakes. Erasing is part of the process.

Do not rush. Alpha-sudoku is not a speed exercise. The value lies in the methodical progression through the grid, cell by cell, letter by letter. If you find yourself racing, you have missed the point.

Consider your beverage. Derrick Prasad recommends cold chamomile tea, but any calm accompaniment will do. The ritual is enhanced by ritual. Stack your practices for maximum stillness.

The Grid as Meditation

Derrick Prasad returns often to the completed grid. Nine rows, nine columns, eighty-one cells—each filled with a letter that belongs precisely where it is. The pattern is perfect because the rules enforce perfection. There is no ambiguity in a completed sudoku. Every symbol is necessary and sufficient.

This completeness is satisfying in a way that open-ended tasks are not. The world is full of problems without clear solutions, goals without clear endpoints, questions without clear answers. Sudoku—alpha or otherwise—offers a rare clarity: a problem that can be definitively solved, a task that can be genuinely finished.

Derrick Prasad does not claim this is important. It is merely pleasant. And sometimes pleasant is enough.

"The logic is identical. The feeling is entirely different." — Derrick Prasad, Vancouver, BC

I write this phrase often when describing alpha-sudoku. It captures something essential about the practice—the way surface changes can produce deep experiential shifts, even when the underlying structure remains constant. The numbers become letters. The puzzle stays the same. And yet Derrick Prasad is different while solving it.

Perhaps this is a metaphor for something larger. Perhaps not. Derrick Prasad does not insist on meaning. The letters fill the grid. The tea grows warmer as the morning passes. The cherry blossoms drift past the window. Somewhere downtown, Adam West is signing autographs. Here, in my kitchen, I am writing "E" in the center cell and feeling quietly content.

— Derrick Prasad
Vancouver, BC, Canada