How playing golf can drive you crazy

With the Panchkula Golf Club allowing play after the lock- down was partially lifted, the Whatsapp group of us fourballs came alive with plans of teeing off the very next morning.

Our 86-year-old partner and fourth ball, MD Singha, a scion of the royal family of Kotgarh near Narkanda, having been away for summer quarantine in the hills was replaced by IT professional Randhir Mangat. We recalled Singha’s passion at that age. He would forgo anything but wouldn’t miss his daily routine of playing golf. On the course, he took calls only from his wife, since she too is old and stays back in their Dogarhi in Panchkula, the name for ‘another house’ in Himachali dialect.

Though I started playing golf only after retirement, I found the indulgence infectious, bordering on obsession of sorts. Recently, we encountered funny situations, only because of our passion for the game. Let me begin with myself.

The other day, I had to have two teeth extractions done. The appointment was fixed for 4pm. While heading to the dentist, I shared with Koumdi, my wife, my lament of missing out on golf the next morning. She just smiled without empathising.

When the dentist’s job was done, he briefed me about the post-surgery care. With my mouth stuffed with cotton in the denture gaps, I was unable to speak. I kept humming but while leaving I couldn’t help gesture and ask if I could play golf the next morning. Dr Sunil Anand smiled from ear to ear and permitted with a gesture too, throwing his left hand towards the clinic’s roof and his neck bent towards the floor.

Back home, even when I was entering the gate and parking the car in the driveway, I made a loud hum at the domestic help, telling him to have my golf kit ready, despite my swollen mouth, almost like I was chewing paan and holding the juice in the mouth. My better half was in earshot and just gave a jerk to her neck on the right as if to convey that I could never be serious in life.

The second ball, Rakesh Nangia, a retired chartered accountant, too had a morning tiff with his wife for reminding him of his knee pain the previous evening while setting out for golf. Cleverly, he headed out wearing a T-shirt with the print: ‘I love my wife more when she allows me to play golf’.

The best is yet to come. Our other ball-buddy, Colonel Amrik Dhillon, met me the same morning in the club parking lot. Sitting in the car, he said he had to go back home for a while. “What happened?” I asked. Almost whispering, he said, “I’ve forgotten to wear golf shoes. I tip-toed out since my wife was asleep and came here in chappals!” Well, golf sure is too much with us.

THOUGH I STARTED PLAYING GOLF ONLY AFTER RETIREMENT, I FOUND THE INDULGENCE INFECTIOUS, BORDERING ON OBSESSION