Often I notice Alok picking any long, thin object such as an umbrella, or a bat, or a walking stick, bending his knees like one would do in an arthritic attack, twisting his back, and heaving a swing in the air. He is, continually, on the lookout for long, thin objects – in his office, at the mall, at hospitals and even funerals.
Sometimes I worry that if he does not find one, he might snap off one of my legs and use it for this ritual.
This is called golf.
It is a game that is, mostly, unfathomable to wives. From where I see it, golf involves sneaking out at 6:00 am, sprinting to the gate, where a getaway car waits for him. It belongs to Rohit who is fast asleep at that time and unaware the car is not in its safe haven in the basement.
It is driven by Amit who is a focussed individual who divides his time between golfing and sleeping on the sofa. The sofa is a nice, cushy one, which sinks like the Congress under Amit’s ‘Anna’-tomy. Sometimes, only Amit’s nose is visible above the folds of the sunk sofa. At other times, Anita gives him a mask and snorkel to aid him.
The getaway is not easy – it involves lugging a huge bag, that can be mistaken for a bag with a corpse. In fact, sometimes I think I should just replace the clubs with a corpse and tip off the cops. So, this bag is heavy. The golfer usually breaks his back before making it to the course. He uses one of the clubs from the bag as a splint to carry on with the game.
So, these men reach the golf course and potter around a large, green field which has grass, sand and water bodies. The men attack tiny balls with an assortment of sticks, trying to get them into various holes. At this point I wonder what Freud would think if he sees them playing?
Sometimes, the men sit down in a squatting position, like one does to ease bowel movements. Since these men are old and not in the best of health, they often take the support of one of the clubs to sit down and get back, painfully, in the upright position, after they are done with, er…I don’t know what one would do in that position, other than the obvious.
The club breaks under the stress of this action.
These men now need to steal the music system from Rohit’s car to get money from a new club.
Rohit, thankfully, is still asleep. He gets tired. He works hard for a living, you see.
After few minutes (actually, it is hours, but it does not seem like that to them), the game is over. They retrieve their phones now, which have been in ‘silent mode’ and see 20 odd missed calls from their respective wives. They pretend to each other that there were none. It’s important to keep the charade.
On their way back, they drive like crazed men, trying to reach before their wives set their shirts on fire. In the process, they bang Rohit’s car into the car in front which has braked suddenly. That car was being driven by another golfer who was thrown off gear by his wife’s call.
“Often I notice Alok picking any long, thin object “, “Sometimes I worry that he might snap off one of my legs”. Now is that wishful thinking or is that wishful thinking?
Fortunately he didn’t snap your leg then, to bat; you wouldn’t need Hawkeye to call it out Leg Before Wicket.
Vivid description Rachna. You remind me of Kowa building, and Alok practicing cricket there.
You have such an eye for detail and for making it funny and so readable!
I love reading your blogs
Look forward to reading your books as well soon.
great one !! as always…………..loved the description of the men squatting during golf…………haha!
Hi Rachna…just started reading your blog today and as luck would have it,the first one that I came across was this one!!!! I am a golfer’s wife and I can easily say that since the day my dearest hubby has started playing,life has never been the same…the weekends are spent cribbing(me) and making up (him)!!!Earlier I used to think only women go through mood swings courtesy our much hyped PMSes but if there was a term called PBGS(post bad game syndrome),it would be applicable to this most lovable group of men!!! The symptoms of this condition could range from fretting,frowning,feeling depressed to that frantic effort to master a stroke with a club and an imaginary ball!!! I guess I have cribbed enough today so maybe I will let him play on this weekend peacefully:))))