Olive Green Memoirs – 5 .. Encounters with G for Golf
By Col Akhil Gupta, Retd
I tried. I was just not cut out for it. Theoretically, I had read on multiple occasions the passion it arouses. I have close friends who breathe it in and out every single day. I am aware how for some, their life is incomplete if it wasn’t for this sport.
Their world is full of Trophies, Memorabilia, Anecdotes, Shoes, Caps, Umbrellas, Rain covers, Gloves, Towels, Tees and some I didn’t even know existed.. Range Finder, Alignment sticks, Groove cleaners alongside their dog-eared worn-out guide books.
I also aspired to be a dedicated zealot. Alas, it was not to be. I can recount as many as at least 9 encounters with G for Golf. Some happy ones but mostly abject failures.
My 1st Encounter
It occurred in mid 1960s, when we moved into the house, of which the earlier occupant was a Japanese family. The Japanese engineers had been invited by the Govt of India to assist in setting up a modern Fertilizer Factory in Gorakhpur.
In close proximity to the factory, the residential area for all employees along with hospital, market, temple, club house, primary school, post office, bank and all other amenities were set up in a single complex enclosed within a boundary wall.
Something on the lines of Tata’s Jamshedpur Iron and Steel complex which had been replicated from military cantonments working as independent islands.
The Japs had levelled out a sufficiently large area, right ahead of our row of houses, in line with the lake – ChilvaTal for a driving range.
The game had no takers anymore after they left and the driving range had lost its markings and fence when we moved into the house. Our house help’s son in exchange of a worn-out tennis ball gifted me a highly bruised golf ball.
The outer covering had deep nicks all over. It turned out to be 3-piece damsel, astounding us by the springiness of the rubberised dense core surrounded by thickly covered rubber bands which we discovered after cutting through the outer covering with much difficulty. Of course, the fun didn’t last long as our dachshund – Johnny, made mincemeat of it within days.
My 2nd Encounter
On joining NDA Khadakwasla Jun 1974, I wasn’t expecting a relearning of the alphabet associates and was thrown a googly when I realised that living area referred to as Squadrons (hostels) had been christened in an altogether different way. A stood for Alpha and not Apple, E stood for Echo and not Elephant, J stood for Juliet and not Jug, while G stood for Golf and not the usual Goat. Golf squadron for us in Juliet was like the dark side of moon unseen and best if unvisited. For 3rd Battalion guys like me and maybe a few others, I never did get a chance to cross over to the 2nd Battalion far corner Golf squadron.
My 3rd Encounter
At NDA, I think it was in 1975 – 3rd term, Kapil C introduced me to the library. Vyas Library is a part of the magnificent building that flanks the Sudan Block on the right with Habibullah Hall on the opposite side, looking at the majestic Gnat fighter aircraft of 1965 and 1971 fame.
Once, you become a member, you could get 3 books issued for 15 days at a time. Into it, we would run after a quick breakfast to return the old books and get new ones issued. I was mesmerised by PG Wodehouse and did read one of the series on Golf. I found it a hilarious marvel, a treat to savour slowly but surely.
My 4th Encounter
In 1980, a 2-month course in Mhow on Radio and Signalling initiated me into the mastering the standard alphabet with their associated words to be used in Radio Telephony with G standing for Golf. A passing reference to the world of Morse Code of dots and dashes also introduced me to G as – – . (dash-dash-dot).
Morse Code was the standard method for transmitting Telegram messages. And for those unaware SOS typified by … – – – … (dot-dot-dot-dash-dash-dash-dot-dot-dot) traces its origin to 1906 as the distress call sign but it became universal only after the sinking of the Titanic.
My 5th Encounter
The acronym DAA & QMG (Deputy Assistant Adjutant & Quarter Master General) always gave an enigmatic feel. The flamboyant nomenclature of its expanded form had all the trappings that you wanted for yourself at that age viz. Adjutant, Quarter Master and General.
This came my way, when in May 1989, I was posted to AD Brigade HQ, Dhar Road (Udhampur). I played my part in conversion of a 4-hole practice course to a fully functional 9-hole course in connivance with the Defence Estate Officer to chop off a few trees here and there.
It’s here, I learnt the ABCD of the deceptively simple and endlessly complicated game of golf with its stance, swings and the swagger after having benefitted from umpteen mulligans.
My 6th Encounter
Over the next decade, life was a grind and there was no place for Golf in it. Its only when I travelled to South Africa, courtesy UN, that an opportunity arose to buy a new Golf Set – a Spalding Paradox Graphite set. Besides various accessories, I also invested in video cassettes of the Masters for beginners. The travesty of life has been such that till today, 27 years down the line, it remains unused. As an ever optimist, I am still waiting for the divine moment when I would graduate from playing with marbles to balls.
My 7th Encounter
My last posting in Command HQ at Udhampur did come with many opportunities and privileges to play. But those were Kargil times and the war had just concluded. Work 24×7 was a necessity. Even a thought of playing seemed blasphemy. Once a while, when I would pass through the area, I would see longingly a few guys on the course and wished, things were different.
My 8th Encounter
Nigeria offers many a privilege to an expatriate. Lagos boasts of an excellent golf course and a few veteran-Indian expats did coax me into joining them a few times.
A few good runs in 2004 were attributed to the Beginners Luck before I settled down into a below average game. It was fun for some time surely, but even that didn’t last long as I packed my bags and soon shifted my office to Abuja, the capital.
Thereafter in absence of friendly understanding compatriots, I never did look for an opportunity to renew my further encounters in Nigeria.
My 9th Encounter
On finally settling down in Delhi in 2001, I would look at the Army Golf Club, now rechristened as AEPTA (Army environmental park and training area) with envious eyes.
Being a member of DSOI (Defence Services officers Institute) seemed incomplete if one was not a member of the Golf Club next door offering an entirely different flavour. However, fulfilling the eligibility requirements followed by a long waiting period was daunting.
Quite a few years later, when I did see my course mate Kuldip’s name on more than one Honour Board, I realised an opportunity existed. I was a member within a matter of an hour of having met him. Thank you dear Kuldip. It’s definitely my watering hole once a while.
