In my earliest
memory, I remember it as a place with rolling meadows and colourful hats with
everyone swinging an exciting looking stick. Barely into school, I boasted I
had just visited New Zealand every time I rolled down from home to the golf
course! You heard that right. Maybe as we were in picturesque Wellington, an
army cantonment in Tamil Nadu, and in my head I was confused with all the
movies in VCRs and felt just maybe we are that Wellington, with such a diverse
setting from any I had been exposed to. This was my first encounter with a game
where the players always wore a contradictory air of distress and glee and the
arena looked like it was almost a pathway to Heaven. There began the intrigue.
Following years, I got used to this
designated, exclusive verdant island in every town my father was to get posted
and my understanding evolved. Now I just thought it is a place elders go for
outdoor recreation and even to get into the good books of a boss. It just
wasn’t enough to play golf but to mention it on any new meeting or given
moment, my young brain grasped, so I also went around adding golf to my
parent’s listed virtues every time I had to brag in a gangly group of early
teens.
Whatever place it
held in their lives, for me it made for the perfect setting to give wings to my
‘Mallory towers’ slash ‘Little Women’ imagination as I went strawberry picking
by the stream in one course and on another I sat on a rickety bridge under
thundering skies imagining the hurtling golf cart to be a buggy carrying a
message. Thank God, the present generation has more sense of reality and a far
better understanding of the game than I ever did!
Eventually my
mother was to turn an avid golfer after having taken the game lightly and even
taken a long hiatus only to return with a bang. There on the mysteries were cut
down to size with bogies and birdies becoming dinner table conversations. Most
house guests belonged to this coterie, that could stay back till wee hours
discussing strategy and form and every greeting mostly met with “How did you
play today?” followed by a comforting word or an advise or two, or an impromptu
celebration. Soon, all our house mantles were lined up with my mother’s hard
earned wins and even ‘hole in ones’. The gleaming sliver cups were a testimony
of the relentless pursuit of this eternal game.
My feelings were
mixed. Though fascinated, I was befuddled with this crazed obsession and though
I love the idea of almost all sports, especially as I grew up playing some of
them and reasonably well, I was not sure if I could fathom this maze of a game
from hole to hole or be a part of the seemingly big league. The thought itself
was intimidating as I saw people around me spend time painfully coordinating
outfit with socks, marker with cap and perfecting their imaginary swing in the
air, for an early morning tee off with visor and attitude intact.
Whatever it was
about the game, I definitely knew it was special. I remember my grandfather
throughout his retirement years returning at breakfast times cheery recounting
the morning’s game and goings on in friends' lives. The day he came with
samosas and the special shredded carrot chilly chutney, we knew he was pleased with his game. His fixed four ball for almost
two decades had a standing rule, they never betted but the losing party owed
others a bite at the coffee shop that set the tone for the day. My grandfather
began playing in Jabalpur army cantonment and his twilight years were well
spent on probably one of the best courses in the country, Delhi Golf Club. He
started at a time golf equipment was still very elementary and I remember even
as a kid, him knocking on the golf balls made of rubber-resin core to assess its
life left and back then golf shoes were mostly just white. Golf talk was so
integral, that from my granny’s knowledge of the game you would have thought
she plays too.
Now as I look back
I don’t know what to owe my new found interest in the game to, that needed a
pandemic for me to face my fear…and give into the sway of the bitter sweet
temptation. I approached it with caution and before I knew it, fell into the trap I spent years dodging. Priorities upturned with all focus on just
bettering my game, each time stepping on to the greens with trepidation in my
heart, first trying to just complete every hole to prove the good months spent
on the driving range learning, to trying to play a satisfactory game, with a
sigh of relief every time I manage to scoop the ball out of the bunker or
hazard zone or achieve consistency on long fairways. With many a forced breaks
in between my quest further interrupted by a fracture, all I can say is I can’t
wait to go back...It is one game that teaches you, uplifts you, humbles
you..while all along sparking your senses like no other! Not to mention the
good cheer and camaraderie that comes with it, making for the best diversion
that comes with some exercise, healthy competition and lots of merrymaking!
To the enduring
game of life-Golf!
 |
| My first four ball |
Xxx
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