Skip to main content

THE WOOD AND IRON GAME

I remember the early morning wake up calls I got from my father during school holidays. In those days I only wish that I were as enthusiastic as father was. Late mornings were what I looked forward to at home after the Godavari school regime of 6 o'clock bells ringing right next to our ears. My father had re-invented the game in Nepal, years after the golfing Ranas had packed up their bags and left since the Gauchar (cattle pasture) became an airport. A handful of Nepalese exposed to this game during foreign postings or military training afar were the first members of the golf club my father helped start as its founding president. Rest of them were foreigners on deputation here. My father General Kiran Shumsher J. B. Rana had retired from the army as its chief in 1956 A.D. and, with significant influence this post held even after retirement, he had been able to wrest a good chunk of pasture land to the north-west section of the airport for a golf course. He became the founding president of the Gauchar Golf Club.

I used to wake up early and brace the winter cold during school holidays and accompany my father for a walk-about the course while he was swinging. What distance the small white ball could travel, sometimes even the eyes failed to see! But the ball boy had this uncanny ability to retrieve the ball from roughs and ditches which never failed to amaze me. Looking for lost balls was a thrill on its own right, specially when one could not swing.

I remember the club had its stature enhanced when Prince Basundhara Bir Bikram Shah, youngest brother of the reigning king Mahendra started appearing. He and his elder brother Prince Himalaya had taken cadet training in the military under my father's supervision and so they were close. I remember the royal appearances well as there used to be this striking blond lady Barbara at his side, always. Perhaps he needed an incentive to participate in this often frustrating game. Sometime during this period I remember the prince gifting a new McGregor Golf Club set to my father. Things had started to get serious.

King Mahendra signing Visitors' Book with Prince Basundhara
offering light from his cigarette lighter
In 1965 Prince Basundhara became the president of the newly re-named Royal Nepal Golf Club and had his brother the king formally inaugurate the club at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. There is this photograph still extant at the new club house where the prince is burning his cigarette lighter to show King Mahendra the VIP guest book brighter for the king's signature - I guess load shedding was not uncommon even then. Golfers must have heaved a collective sigh of relief; the airport authorities would not touch this land for many more years to come.

So just who were those golfing Ranas before my father started a new course? Golfing came to India in a big way after the British started the first golf club outside their own shores in Calcutta. Established in 1829 A.D., a full 59 years before the first club in United States or Continental Europe came into existence, it was called the Royal Calcutta Golf Club. During the Rana regime Calcutta was the trend setter, the repository of high society, the accessible near abroad. Along with the all-pervasive British manners and mores came golfing too. Reports are sketchy but a certain General Laba Shumsher was supposed to have organized a tournament as far back as 1929 A.D.! General Brahma Shumsher J. B. Rana was another one of the pioneers. It was their initiative that introduced golfing to Nepal, albeit in the rarefied atmosphere of Rana indulgence. I cannot imagine them opening up the course to commoners, a goal my father set out to achieve with the new club - another milestone in the opening up of the country after the revolution of 1951 A.D.

From those humble beginnings golfing in Nepal has matured today. There are even professional tournaments held here under the auspices of corporate sponsors like Surya Tobacco. Pro-am (professional and amateur) tournaments are held where the pros play without handicap and compete against amateurs playing with handicap, more for fun than winning.

A golf course was opened in Gokarna the former hunting reserve of the rulers of Nepal when the Crown Property leased it to developers. Nepal Army now has its own course too. Outside the Kathmandu valley, there are a couple of more golf courses, two in Pokhara and one in Dharan at the former Gurkha army recruitment centre.

The Royal Nepal Golf Club organizes a memorial tournament for my father's contribution. I have started swinging too, more for fun than accomplishment, many times culminating in sheer frustration rather than pure joy. But the spirit my father left behind is alive and well, I only wish I took those early morning wake-up calls more seriously!

Comments

  1. Another fascinating historical anecdote.

    On the theme of golf, I wonder whether it can still be considered an "elitist" sport. Golf equipment and course fees are definitely on the expensive side. After all, a golfer, the great Tiger Woods, is the world's first sports billionaire.

    Question being, how relevant is golf in the "Federal Democratic (maybe soon to be People's) Republic of Nepal?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Golfing is a major opportunity to attract foreign direct investment into the country as the course needs ancillary facilities like club house, restaurants, hotel beds, spa. Tourism growth is the target. Even deserts are greening today in Qatar and Dubai. It is time to take PKD swinging, he might even look like a real proletarian after he loses some pounds.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

BRONZE WARRIORS FOR EVER

D uring my first visit to Helsinki, Finland I was intrigued to find the huge statue of Tzar Alexander II adorning the center of Senate Square in the heart of the city. Didn't the Finns actually fight the Russians for independence? Then I remembered that, of course, Finland gained its independence during the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917 A.D. when Russia was convulsed by its civil war. Finland escaped the clutches of the Bolsheviks. A reformist Russian emperor is appreciated incongruously in a foreign country and not in his own! What is it about revolutions that the past has to be so negated? Does one have to end history to move forward, even while this motion is at the same time making history? Or is it the certitude of history repeating itself and toppling the present protagonists from their high pedestals that these revolutionaries are so afraid of? The French Revolution devoured its own children and gave birth to the French empire under Napoleon Bonaparte. Czar Nicholas II of...

THE GHOSTS FROM MY PAST

The Headless Horseman, Murkatta in Nepali, was the bogeyman conjured up by Nimbu Didi my nanny every time she wanted to frighten me into submission. The mere thought of this Netherworld being shut me up promptly and I meekly ate the uneatable porridge, or drank the untimely glass of milk or went to sleep when it was still playtime. Murkatta was galloping amok at the Kalo Pul , the Black Bridge constructed by Prime Minister Jung Bahadur Rana bridging the Patan side of town to Kathmandu at Teku. I could imagine this fearsome creature stealing past sentries into Kiran Bhawan, my father's mansion, at midnight looking for me. I used to shudder at the mere thought of it. The Pachali Bhairab Temple near the Black Bridge was the least of my favorite deities simply because the place was too spooky to explore. They told me one of the martyrs was hanged there. Even during my teens I never dared drive across that forlorn bridge, day or night. The Nepalese ghosts have so much in similarity...

FEATHERS IN THE CROWN

Maharajah Juddha Shumsher J. B. Rana with his Crown As a kid I used to gape in wonderment at the magnificent crown my father possessed not knowing that the jewels were only for show. The dark green, emerald drops were made of glass, the sparkling diamonds were probably zirconium, and the pearls were not of the best sort. Every Rana general had his personal crown in those days, and my father was no exception. I did not recognize the difference between this personal crown of father's and the other more valuable crown of the Nepalese Commander-in-Chief of the Army that my father was seen wearing in many a portrait displayed about the house. Little did I know that my father was the last person to put on his head the army chief's crown from the Rana era, real glittering diamonds, snow white pearls and thumb-sized emerald drops and all. The feather in the crown was the magnificent plumes of the Bird of Paradise that gave it such a majestic look. The Bird of ...