One

“It was but yesterday I thought of myself as a fragment quivering without rhythm in the sphere of life.

Now I know that I am the sphere, and all life in rhythmic fragments moves within me.”

Khalil Gibran

The stardust was craving to reunite again, but the force of the bang kept it afloat, moving it toward directions unknown and dimensions unexplored. The wandering clouds and whirling winds of the celestial dirt constantly looked for a place to fall and to rest — but found no refuge. Running particles of that soot on the move decided to hold on to each other. One offered its body to the other so that it could rest. And thus, concepts like sacrifice and love were born in the barren cosmos. Two became one. Then joined the third, fourth, fifth, and so on. Gradually, many particles of the stardust began to stop and stick on them. The combination of particles became fat and strong. After some time, they became a full planet. Once together, the dust can become a moon, a planet, a star, or a sun.

“They are the chosen ones who have surrendered once they were particles of light now they are the radiant sun.”

Rumi

Once you become a celestial entity, you will certainly develop gravity. Once you create gravity, you form an orbit. Once you form an orbit, others will start dancing to the rhythm of your circle. Once movement finds a circle, the grand journey to oneness begins. One star blasts into infinite dust particles, and countless dots of dust again become one star. Those who claim that the Big Bang is the beginning of it all forget to tell the tale prior to the grand blast. If we let loose the zipper of presumptions, the reach of our imagination can take us beyond the wings of voyager-1. No physical attempt can surpass the reach of the eye of the mind.

This story of dusk and dawn is a recurring phenomenon in different forms and multiple frames. This song of being and not being goes on and on. The trumpet of birth blows again and again, only to put it back to sleep in the lap of silence. The twinkle of happening and not happening blinks on and off. One becomes many, and many become one. One seed carries the whole jungle. The whole jungle eventually makes seeds. One grows to breed many, and many live in one. On and on we see anecdotes of proliferation and absorption glittering around us.

‘They say to me in their awakening, “you and the world you live in are but a grain of sand upon the infinite shore of an infinite sea.”

And in my dream I say to them, “l am the infinite sea, and whole worlds are but grains of sand upon my shore.”

Khalil Gibran

The fingerprints prove each individual is unique. Yet, we are billions. Everyone is just one; but at the same time, one is a part of many. There is oneness in everything, and there is multiplication in each oneness. I wonder how it is? What does it mean? Where does it come from, and where does it go? It is a question and an answer at the same time.

Yes, suffering differentiates us all. But don’t all of us suffer? Yes, we call it a union. But doesn’t it begin with one to become one union?

“Within thousands I found my oneness…

In my oneness I found my world.”

Rumi 

Tum Ek Gorakh Dandha Ho

Nusrat Fateh Ali 

Credits

Google 

Sand and foam by Khalil Gibran

Pine Court Resorts Bhurban

YouTube

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

The Shadows Are Taller

“Like a shadow,

I am and I am not.”

Rumi

Light creates shadows and trees love to provide them. A fusion of light and darkness makes our world come alive. Not all shadows are made by the light, some grow in our own minds without any light. A few shadows are smaller than the object and others are taller. It’s all a game of here-and-there by the sun. Some shadows make history, others keep the land barren. Some shadows are merely mirages while others become the shelters to new realities. Some shadows are cast on minds, others keep souls from the sun. Some shed blessings and a few become inauspicious. The true magic springs when we climb out of our shadows and rival the sun although it is easier said than done. 

I have seen people whose own shadow refuses to follow them.  And those who are smaller than their own images. Today, at the second green, I met my own shadow that was way taller than I was. It captured my imagination with hilarious hounds of hallucinations. I was blissfully scared, and I skillfully concealed it. Just like a hand covers the eyes in the sun. Perhaps, I had no reason to fear as it was nothing but an expression of my silent spear. Everything I am and could be, visualized as a mystery.

In the shadow of research, scientists have discovered a lot about the human brain and body as a whole. Surgical advances are miraculously astonishing. Singularity is almost at hand. Yet man’s moral character is deteriorating. We are getting smaller, even compared to our shadows. And our rapacity has already climbed over the capacity. The Information Age further fuels the craving of wealth and riches. The flow of media and availability of citizen journalism deeply explores  the lifestyle and eroded personalities of the celebrities and leaders in different walks of life. Our outlooks are perfumed and branded, but our inner sanctums are punctured and disoriented by greed and selfishness. Such is the deluded nature of man, nothing but a nice sheet over a piece of ice. The opulence becomes the only criteria of success. Our desires and methods of grubbing money finds its validity in Niccolò Machiavelli’s words, “the end justifies the means”. We should try to focus on the journey before the destination as it is a hurry where we find damnation while mercy is where we find emancipation.

Nice attire, designer homes, branded phones, high end cars are supposed to make a person ‘great’. Truthfulness, honesty, bravery, etc are of no value if you are poor.

Shadow of the affluence is much longer than the dents in character. The shade of money covers the blades of tyranny. The closet full of gold hides most misdeeds. In the shadow of progress, people wage wars for diamond mines and oil wells that make millions homeless. In the shadow of the aid, the same war mongers simultaneously fund peace rallies and support humanitarian organizations that work for victims of such wars. What a great moralistic world. In the vale of public interest companies vacate centuries old villages to put up modern housing plazas. In the shadow of progress the aim is profit, homes or homeless don’t matter. In the shadow of the government of the people, by the people and for the people, we elect people who raise millions for election campaigns. While thousands homeless sleep on the streets of the same cities. 

Among all the shadows, the shade of ignorance & illiteracy are the darkest ones. The combination of hunger and poverty breeds helplessness and ignored and ignorant invent slavery. That’s what we are becoming every day. Slaves to our own pursuits for more, if not to anyone else. 

“A shadow cannot ignore the sun that all day creates and moves it.”

Rumi

Credits 

Google

Singularity is Near, by Ray Kurzweil 

PAF Skyview GCC 

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

The Games

“Between the heart and mirror is this single difference, 

The heart conceals secrets while the mirror does not.”

Rumi

We see people hanging out together, playing in the same flight, and sitting on the same tables. Sometimes sleeping under the same roof or cuddling in the same bed. Still maintaining the distance wider than the Pacific Ocean and is colder than the Atlantic Ocean. No secret burns you more than envy, crush, and resentment. Jealousy is a game itself. A game that uses your blood as fuel and your mind as the arena. Some live oceans apart still they stay so close, right under each others’ eyebrows. 

Each sport has its merits and demerits, pros and cons, but the games of golf and the state of resentment have unique aspects in their folders. Golf is the only sport where you can drink, smoke, eat, swear and backbite about anyone and anything, while the game is in progress. You can make fun of your flight mate or you can crack jokes about your spouse and colleague. You can hit a ball out of bounds and lose it forever or you can sink it. You can land in the sandpit or you can drop it directly into the hole. You can meet a refreshment cart on a turn or you can sip hot tea at a midway hut. You can ride a motor cart or you can bring in your pushcart. One thing is sure that you have to bend your knees to play golf. Yes, golf is a strange game and it is played in such a manner. On the other hand, jealousy is a solo sport and it is played in silence. 

While the round of golf begins with a long strike, hit by a fat-headed club, that makes a loud sound and ends with a fragile touch of a small putter. In the meantime, you walk and talk. Then strike a middle shot with a different club. In the game of jealousy, the strike is soundless but it’s extremely excruciating. There is no partner but it tears you apart repeatedly. There is no victory in jealousy but an endless defeat. But they say that you don’t make it unless someone out there envies you. I will add, “you ain’t living if you don’t make people jealous.”

They say life is also a game. The game at the fairway and the game of breaths are different but it is better if they are both played fairly and frankly. Not all games are played to win. We sometimes lose some games purposely and the game of love is one of them. Losing to a loved one is no loss. And winning an argument from a stranger makes no difference. Playing patiently leads the way to the perfect drop. And slow and steady wins the race. Turtles live a lot longer than rabbits. Running fast doesn’t prolong a rabbit’s life. Maybe patience is the cradle of peace. 

It is said patience is a virtue but no one likes to wait these days. It seems that virtuosity is no longer the valid code. Drones have minimized valor to dust and the technology of bullets has marginalized bravery. Not all battles are fought with gunpowder and rockets, some rivalries are conducted in peace. Golf wars are the best example. Those relying on long shorts lose to the straight ones. The precision of the old pill Mickelson defeats the young, muscular & mighty. The other day it opened my eyes to what Bryson DeChambeau said to Brooks Koepka: “It’s nice to be living rent-free in your head.”

What a lesson I got from this simple line. Great chivalry. It is deep, meaningful, and thought-provoking. If only we were willing to live in each other’s hearts paying the rent through the currency of mutual respect and with the coins of affection. 

“If you could Unite your wings and free your soul of jealousy, you and everyone around you will fly like doves.” 

Rumi 

Credits 

Google

PAF Skyview GCC 

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. YouTuber 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

Sweethearts Seek Sweets

The main corridor at Defense Raya GCC hosts a number of sports, like squash court, gym, yoga studio, pro shop, and gateway to the golf course. This is a great avenue that accommodates its members’ quest for healthy activities. The irony is that a cute & tiny pastry shop also sits there, calling me with its sweet allure. Each time I pass through that passage, a parade of yellow lemon tots, smiling ques of phyllo pastries, and a congregation of croissants intimately invite me in. Oh, how sinfully sweet yet seductive. The decorative and esthetic placement of such beauties, on the shiny glass racks under the light of glittering roof bulbs, is impossible to ignore. One needs staunch discipline to let go of that instigation. I wonder if the designers of the club mischievously set it there to test the fondness of people like me who love sweets and allied products. What a blend of business and psychology. A bunch of us get inspiration for exercise just to remain loyal to sugar. My mouth swirls with saliva and my tummy growls at the sight of date cake. I’m consumed by confusions between diet and desserts. Well! So far, I have defied such temptations quite successfully during my voyages to the rounds of golf at that club. 

What is the fun in diet, avoidance and refraining when your heart starts trumping and mouth keeps flooding? Paleo Diet, Keto Diet, Vegan Diet, Low Carb Diet, Dukan Diet, and many more surplus the market! but eating sweets has its own charms. Just how long will we make our uncertain futures wait. I would promise myself to refrain from the sweets but they come in front of you in so many ways. They are present on birthdays, anniversaries, office promotions, dine outs, tea breaks, midway huts, and at so many other occasions. No doubt  people who go through diets and achieve their goals are people of determination and will. I do wonder where such magical resilience comes from. One should also not doubt the zeal of sweet lovers because, despite being highly diabetics they keep their cozy relationship with sweets intact. They would find fresh excuses to have their hands on it. I know some people who always keep nutra-sweets handy although it never fulfills their cravings, eventually waging on a cream full piece of cake or a benevolent baklava. 

I personally prefer Ladoo, Barfi, Kalakand, Cheese & Almond Cake, Raw brown sugar, and all kinds of ice creams and fruits, since I am neither diabetic nor bulky, except for a prominent tummy. And that doesn’t matter since I am not in showbiz. At times when a picture is taken I always wrench it in, for a few moments. My grandchildren also love to sit on it. They also bang it when they are in jubilant mode or in a drumming spirits. Ah, the blissful joys of children.

I do put on my part of the struggle to reduce my gut or to keep it where it is. I play golf almost everyday, walking three to six miles. Some people don’t regard golf as a sport. I don’t care since that’s all I can offer in this regard. The other day at a fundraiser I met a yoga instructor. She was quite convincing merely by looks. I did not speak to her but ever since I’ve been inclined to pursue evening yoga, in addition to morning golf. After all, a tummy should be tamed and put back to its place, for it is also that it breaks down our food and releases the energy, so that we can move onto the next meal and our next golf session.

“in the stomach’s emptiness. We are lutes, no more, no less. If the sound box is stuffed full of anything, no music. If the brain and the belly are burning clean with fasting, every moment a new song comes out of the fire.”

Rumi

Credits 

Google 

YouTube 

Pinterest 

Defense Raya GCC

Royal Palm GCC 

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com

YouTube: Morning with Golf

Nest

“Trees are poems that earth writes on the sky.”

Khalil Gibran 

When I saw a large beehive hanging from a tree at the ninth tee box at Gujranwala Golf Club, I felt a chill in my stance that the backswing might disturb bees in their home. My ears shivered to the slight buzz in the air, the wind whistling itself into me. And you know what bees do when they are angry, and just like them, irritation irked me, I wanted to sting the ball away. The other day, at Lahore Garrison GCC, I came across a dove nest where chicks were chirping, probably annoyed by my presence so close. How those small flaps of yellow express their anger, it seems cute, just how can anyone not feel pity for them. Often, I have seen earthworms crawling on putting greens. Golf course is home to a variety of dwellers. I wonder what is a home, a nest, a hive or a hole. The golf course is not just my comfort, but a biome to many species. I must be able to find a way to play in a manner that finds harmony for me and the others. 

Our universe houses the earth, and our blue planet is home to life. Birds fly on the orb, coated by the busy breeze, and nest on trees, protecting their own. Not all life on this blue marble wears wings. Nor does the whole world live in nests. Humans make homes, and reptiles dig holes, even if different in shape, we are similar in nature. Humans seek shelter and security among the walls of their homes, much like the flora and fauna at the golf club. They too seek safety from our golf shots.. Under the grassy patches, reptiles walk free. Under the roofs of the skies all life finds its food and fun. The earth is home, a mother, and a heaven. Neither all planets carry qualification to cradle life, nor life survives without the homelike atmosphere. On earth, life dwells in multiple forms and styles. Some in New York City live in skyscrapers that try to reach the skies. Others live in caves, and a few reside in cages. A countless species swims underwater. Some of us are already living in space stations beyond the gravity of the earth. Robots are working day and night trying to suggest human homes on Mars and beyond. Just like we, humans, have our preferences and others whose consequences led to different accommodation, animals find a place to live that suits them too. Home is where you are, and some species choose humans as their homes too, while humans hunt some of them.

 Some live in homes made of wood and others sojourn on trees. Birds are a special form of life. They can fly wherever they wish as the whole world is their home. They make their nests mostly for breeding and roosting. A few make them to outlast the whiplashes of winter. Most birds build new homes each season, some refurbish old nests. Once a chick learns to fly it is home free. Flying between the earth and sky, they like to ride in the air. Birds don’t store their food like humans and ants. They believe in the provider. And the providers obliges them. Perhaps, we, too, should have the same mentality. Albeit, not as easy, but we have the opportunity to fly anywhere too, so many we should trust the route of life and fly with the flow.

There are many kinds of homes. Viruses claim human bodies to be their castles, and humans call planet earth their fort. It could be that some humans are a virus to earth too. Some love to live in someone else’s house as cockroaches and pests do. Who knows whose home it is. Theirs or ours. ‘Might is right’! decides the ownership. Not everybody needs a nest. We’ve had nomads that appreciate the world, roaming, perhaps there is more to moving around and getting out of our comfort zones. A wanderer claims the entire city as his playground while a rover needs no home. There is an invisible and harmless inhabitant that nests silently in my body. I call it a soul. I breathe, but it inhales. I swallow, and it tastes. I see, and it grasps. I listen, and it comprehends. I laugh, and it flourishes. I am its nest. It’s home. But perhaps, more than ever more, this body is my essence and vessel onto the next. An abode for the ever after.

“My soul is from elsewhere, I am sure of that, and I intend to end up there”

Rumi 

There is no proof that a soul is an ingredient of life. Is life itself a soul? Is the soul an integral part of life? I really don’t know. Neither science has any evidence of such an affair. Soul or no soul, the living certainly needs a host, a home, or a carrier. And a home without a soul is merely a shelter. No matter how luxurious a place looks, it’s haunted without hospitality.

Not all life looks for shelter, trees provide it, they stand tall for years just to sustain us with oxygen. They never ask us for more, but they are like phoenixes who need to be replanted by us humans. After all, we must sustain ourselves too and not take our precious trees for granted.

One thing is sure, that home or no home nothing lives forever. Life is temporary and so is home. But perhaps, what we can do is, prolong this beautiful breath, not just for us, but all around us.

Credits 

Google

Gujranwala Golf Club

Lahore Garrison Golf & Country Club. 

Eyaz Riaz (images)

Sarim Khan (Edit & Narration)

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

A Parable of the Golf Ball

“I am the dust in the sunlight,

I am the ball of the sun . . .

I am the mist of morning,

the breath of evening . . . . 

I am the spark in the stone, 

the gleam of gold in the metal . . . . 

The rose and the nightingale 

drunk with its fragrance. 

I am the chain of being, 

the circle of the spheres, 

The scale of creation, 

the rise and the fall. 

I am what is and is not . . . 

I am the soul in all.”

Rumi

I dwell amongst the pockets of branded golf pants and kits. I travel from my birthplace, wrapped in a beautiful box, to the decorated racks of glittering golf shops. It needs expertise to make me, and I am expensive to buy. I start from a specially raised area called a tee box and take off from the top of a tee. They clean me before playing and use expensive sticks to make me fly. They raise colorful flags at my posts and make treated round greens for my arrival. I may be small, but I roll with the mighty. The most important people like kings, presidents, army generals, CEOs, doctors, astronauts, religious figures etc. follow me wherever I go. Mr. Donald Trump relaxes in my company. Nicole Kidman is my friend and Michael Jordan adores me. They get concerned when I am not in sight. Some even take off their shoes and socks, pursuing me into the water. They make expensive playgrounds, decorated with flower beds and beautiful trees. They wear special attire in my honor. Some get intoxicated, while others practice for hours just to perform better in my presence.

I have my own glossary and rules. I can punish, and I can reward. I can deny, and I can nod. I can disappear before your eyes, and I can be visible from the rough. I can make careers, and I can relinquish the crowns. I can hurt those who come in my way, and I can spare one from injury. I can crawl although I don’t have knees. I can walk despite being foot less. I run without shoes, and I don’t need wings to fly. I may remain faithful, and no one can stop me from infidelity. It is impossible to bridle me, and no one knows how to tame me. I do what I like. And I love to make people come after me. I can glorify beginners with a hole in one, and I can nail Tiger Woods to make four putts.

 I am a golf ball. No matter if I’m stained with mud or water, I will behave the way I always do. The hairy tennis ball is jealous of my glowing skin. Whereas smelly cricket balls envy my dimples. That fat soccer ball is always scared of losing its air. The oversized basketball is a loner. I travel in a caravan and live with my siblings. I innately fly while hiding is my habit. I am not scared of going through water although I don’t know how to swim. I can drown, but water can’t kill me. I don’t like to work with cowards, and I love the brave.  

“Fear makes a bear bigger than he is”

German proverb

I admire those who make divots to please me since it proves I have been there. I punish people who lack concentration. I like eye to eye contact although I lack eyes and brows. I absolutely hate divided attention and carefree attitude. If you will pay attention to me, I will do as you say. You know, paying each other some attention is all that matters.

“Take your attention off the forms and focus on what is inside.”

Rumi

To be continued. 

Credits 

Google

Pinterest 

Lahore Garrison GCC

Images: Eyaz Riaz

Mr. Sarim Z. Khan (Edit & Narration.)

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com

Audio: Morning with Golf

YouTube: Morning with Golf

Birdies, Bogeys and Bunkers

In the name of golf, I solemnly admit that I have cheated myself in recording my scores on the Golfshot app repeatedly. Despite such efforts, my handicap and my average score prefers to cling to the roof. 

This wonderful game is really made for wonders. My bunker shots usually insist on keeping the ball sandy. In case the ball leaves the green side  bunker, it would wander like a zombie, leaving me with a long face and a wounded spirit. I am unable to discover why it often chooses strange directions. On top of that, caddies always have a handy blame to paste on my forehead: “It’s a look up.”, “You lost balance.”, “Complete your follow through.”, etc. The usual slogans all caddies use. If I ever quit golf, look ups would be the reason.

Still, I engaged with my caddy every time I played the game. It makes no difference who is the culprit caddie, lie or myself, the onus stays on me. Of course with few exceptions. I start playing golf with overflowing zeal, and return home with a refreshed promise to win next time. There are some days when I defeat my crew, and that’s when they reach the worst of their spells. The other day, my fellow golfer unfurled on the 7th hole. Yet, I was insistent to lose that hole, so I followed him all the way to the 8th shot on a par five. But he refused to provide me the opportunity, and my ball eventually revolted into the hole. Whereas, he finished it in ten. No one can doubt my sincerity. I did my best. 

It’s a fact that I am a good golfer. My determination is beyond question, and my devotion to the cause is unmatched. I have quashed, time and again, most golfers who claimed to be better than me. My career in golf includes invalidating some renowned pros on many auspicious occasions. In real sense, their lack of concentration led to their downfall. All of them blamed the quality of my narration for that. Well, everything is fair in love and war. 

Not all weapons sit in the arsenal. The deadliest lurk in the fighter’s mind. Yes, strategy can make a wood piece work like a gun. And deceit works for those who don’t make it a habit. There is no bigger deception than secrecy. Nothing hits more than an unexpected blow. Mighty empires fall in slumber, and forts crumble to Trojan horses. 

Those who don’t learn historical lessons become the decoration of dustbins. Those who let opportunity slip through their hands live in the lap of despair. Those who grab the moment from its horns change their fate. A lion is a dog without nails and teeth, a soldier is worthless without courage and belief, and a golfer is a walker without patience and passion. 

The great game of golf works in chapters like a suspense novel. One flip of the page horrifies, and the other makes the reader smile. In the same manner golf shots surprise a golfer. Hissing horripilation, dens of despair, and the jogs of jubilation are regular features of this game. What matters the most is to get out there and play. 

“On what is fear: non acceptance of uncertainty. If we accept that uncertainty, it becomes an adventure.”

Rumi 

Credits 

Pinterest 

Google 

Lahore Garrison GCC. 

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com

Audio: https://youtu.be/SkyxOQ1yAeU

Just The Two Of Them

“Reason is powerless in the expression of love.”

Rumi

A couple of pigeons sat on the v shaped stem on the top of a tree. I guess they appreciated the warmth of an April morning. My tee shot landed behind that tree in the rough. I got there to plan my approach shot from the rough near that tree. The sun on the other hand tried to complement us all supportively. I didn’t want to take that shot since it was going to interrupt those lovers with gray wings. I didn’t know their language, but their gestures expressed their adoration for each other. 

They chose a great venue to share their morning sitting, but my ball sat on a difficult lie. Since two is a company and three is a crowd, relieving my dilemma, they decided to take off. Lovers don’t like sticks and stones. I didn’t take a shot till they flew away. The wait was worth it. One should never disturb paramours since nothing is more valuable than love. The presence of love at that avenue seemed more important than my match winning shot. 

People don’t make matches very often. If they do, they seldom last. Mostly, they end up as mismatches. Winning a routine golf match should not have broken that beautiful match the pigeons had made for themselves. 

They have already made the birdie that I was intending to make. Easier said than done. Neither everyone finds a perfect partner in life nor every shot leads to victory. We must respect those who are lucky enough to hold each other’s hands in harmony or those who fly together in complete synchronization. Love finds them all, lovely pigeons in the picture above or notorious vultures in the picture below. 

Love makes all of them beautiful. It brings and keeps them together. A couple always looks prettier than the lonely. 

I must bring your attention to another picture below. There is a dry and detached leaf that clings on to another stem of the tree. As if it doesn’t want to depart. Look how being together is important to this dead leaf. How can I measure the amount of love of a leaf who deplores disconnection, despite being dead and doomed. 

You must be wondering how in the world do I notice all these things during a game as demanding as golf. 

Golf requires immediate attention, and love can wait for forever. And golf courses always offer much more. From flora and fauna to spirit and soul. From laughter and tears to patience and tolerance. Love rules God’s earth. I am not the only culprit who appreciates lovers, there are others, crazier than I am. 

My cousin, teammate, and a friend, Eyaz Riaz, is one of them. He captured the two lovers riding on the lily at Lahore Garrison Golf & Country Club. This couple of fireflies sought the light of love in the lap of a bindweed, morning glory, (convolvulus). Love neither needs wings to fly nor does it require bones to stand up. It is present everywhere, in a leaf, a petal, a heartbeat, and a dream. It just shines like sun rays, perfumes like jasmine, floats like water, and enlivens like breeze. 

“Be foolishly in love, because love is all there is.”

Rumi 

Just the two of us

Blissful Mind

Credits 

Google 

YouTube 

Eyaz Riaz

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com

Rain Drops Keep Falling On My Head

“Without the frown of clouds and lightning, the vines would be burned by the smiling sun.”

Rumi 

As the night began to sleep and morning was still yawning to wake, my crew mates started dropping out. WhatsApp is the most convenient way to announce the absence. I have done it many times, and it works well each time. 

At the first tee of Lahore Garrison GCC, the flight was formed, and we took off in great soothing weather. Sporadic clouds sailed over the empty course. The sun appeared and disappeared, playing hide and seek with the clouds. So did my game. Squeezing my skin with goosebumps, the chilly air at the golf club indicated that it was raining close by. Gradually, dark clouds spun into cold drops. The wind caught speed. The golf ball enjoyed the air resistance, diving and turning accordingly. It had no regard for the golfer’s intended directions. My balls, already used to violating my desires on a regular basis, stood to the occasion. The new leaves danced in the wind as the fallen ones flew up like flying tapestry. A spiraling procession of clouds cloaked the sun. My game didn’t go well from the very first ball. My ball would fondly look for roughs, and trees, if it would miss bunkers and water hazards. I no longer was capable of controlling the direction of my shot. It was one of those days. Other than the game, I enjoyed everything this morning had to offer. 

I couldn’t ruin my day due to the lack of a few pars and bogeys. I had to find refuge elsewhere. I let the wind’s voice wash me away as it embraced every strand of hair, sizzling me with splendor. It blew its own piper, persuading the trees to cohere with its tunes. The grass, the shrubs, and flower beds all sang in a chorus, enveloped in a rhythmic union. The flags at the post joined them, inviting me to appreciate the moment and forget about the shots. 

Being a wanderer, I, myself, wanted to join those dry leaves flying for the heck of it. Instead, I followed suit to keep our flight going. My body was in the game, but my soul had joined the rest of the course. The soil longed for rain. The clouds had traveled to answer her call, quenching its thirst and filling her void. 

Once we reached the middle of the seventh fairway, the rain lost its patience and began to pour. Our noses nested with the pleasant petrichor. It gave us no chance to seek shelter in the midway hut. It rained cats and dogs, leaving me drenched as the wind whiplashed against my poor umbrella.

The Ramadan rain fell on me as if nature intended to wash off my sins at that very moment. I don’t know how my young teammates felt, but a surge of purity and cleanliness empowered me. 

Urged with enlightenment, we walked briskly to the parking lot, but every step stemmed the journey of a washed and cleansed man. Water always ignites my imagination, but this morning rain reminded me of the heavens beyond those clouds. I might not be able to understand what the heavens meant this morning, but the soil underneath my feet glimmered with hope and smelled of gratitude. The trees and grass bloomed once again, wringing away the droplets of water. Only us humans looked for shelter to avoid this bliss falling from the skies. Everything else was enjoying the falling dexterity of the angel of the weather. 

Rain drops keep falling on my head

B.J Thomas 

Credits 

Google 

YouTube 

Lahore Garrison GCC. 

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com

Drowsy Dawns

Of course! nothing beats sleeping through the morning. That’s the dreamiest part of the whole slumber. On the other hand being awake at dawn is much more satisfying. The first shot as the sunlight demarks the horizon is even more enchanting. What a beautiful spot on the canvas of the day, the dawn is? The disappearing darkness, drowsy dawn, and sleepy sparrows. The fresh golfer, even fresher ball and cold grip of the one wood. The wet tee box, watery fairway and the dewed greens. Crunchy sound and prints of the footsteps of the forwarding flight stay behind, breaking the peace of the pious morning. 

Walking on the dreaming grass and disturbing the snoring roughs. Knocking at the yawning trees and shaking the resting leaves. Teaching the stertoring birds to chirp and guiding the sun to rise. Teeing off with the light ball and waking the reptile with the sound of a driver strike. This is called, “morning with golf.” 

Hundreds of times I have seen the sunrise at many beautiful courses? Each time it is a new sight and fresher scene, a unique look and a brighter vision. Each time it gives birth to a newer prayer, a fresher hope, a unique satisfaction and a brighter fulfillment. Morning is a time when life renews itself and reconditions the living. It is unexplainable how everything awakens to celebrate the arrival of the first rays of the infant sun. One can hear the holy rhymes of birds and pretty sprout of the leaves at this particular time. 

Dawn leaves nothing unchanged, as if a new morning is the new birth of the whole planet. Time itself may be a chorus of the dancing stars or it can merely be a whirl of our little blue planet, like a Turkish Dervish. 

Whirling Dervish of Koneya 

Our hearts instead witness a new pat on the earth’s shoulder at each dawn. Mornings are gestures of encouragement by the universe to inspire our small planet. And dewdrops are a sign of the sky’s satisfaction with its dwellers. 

Only the lucky wake up at dawn and the luckier walk on the fairways covered with dew. I can suspect that the residents of the skies do extend their special attention to the awakened inhabitants of the earth at dawn. 

This morning a crew of four took off from the tee one at PAF Skyview GCC. The wind was chilly and the grass was wet. Our steps left marks on the dewed fairway recording our activity there. It was clearly written on the ground how far each of us hit our drivers. Our push carts also left their lines along with our footsteps. What a messy cum mesmerizing scene it was.

Yes we left sings, divots, sand, and broken tees along with our lost and drowned balls on the course. Of course we are humans, earth shakes with the power of our mobility. Our caterpillars, Boeing’s, fighter jets, tanks, trains and ships. Our airports, freeways, seaports, and skyscrapers. Are all marks of human might on the face of this planet. And now our voyagers, rovers and remote controlled helicopters are announcing our arrival on the stars beyond ours. The moon. Mars and far beyond.  

I was wondering what a wonderful being we humans are? We make changes wherever we go. We are fond of amendments, improvements, development and progress. In the eyes of other species we may be polluters and intruders in the matter of nature. Instead no nature is complete without us. We are an integral part of nature and more. We only need to learn to clean our debri and dirt.  In order to keep on traveling in civilized manners to maintain the status of being multiplanetary species. That we have almost become. 

Keep waking up early to welcome the beautiful mornings wherever you’re across the universe or beyond. Since we can only be awake till a certain time. This luxury is not eternal at all.

“Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you. Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.”

Rumi

Credits 

Google 

Suleman Rehman (painter)

PAF Skyview Golf & Country Club 

YouTube 

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com