On The Move

This morning was fresh and warm, I enjoyed the after dawn golf in full swing. The PAF course is well manicured; it is a testimony to the zeal of the management’s neatness. Golfers don’t lose balls here unless they drop it in water or hit out of bound over the wall. On the other side of the fence is Lahore’s bustling international airport. Playing under recurring inbound flights instigate wanderers like me to get into one and fly away from home. Like the migratory birds, I used to go to North America each summer but this year I am caged behind the invisible bars of COVID-19. I miss playing on the New England courses where summers are milder than Lahore. 

These days, this course is missing the descent of international airliners that used to fly over the golfers’ heads while trying to land at the adjacent airport. Since most of foriegn air traffic is on hold because of the pandemic, the skies are emptier than usual. Today I only saw one airbus inclining by. The roar of the landing aircraft untapped a sprinkler of old memories and new dreams in my mind. I am a compulsive tourist, wanderer of the world, and a traveler of the globe. A restless drifter of the continents, a backpacker by choice and rover like me can’t be stuck in one place for long. The urge to go somewhere takes over the rest of my desires. 

I came home after a good round of golf, still a part of me was looking for something more. I believe that we will overpower this virus and I will be roaming around the streets of far away cities soon. In the meantime a stanza sparkles in my mind, “not all those who wander are lost.”  I open safari to search for the rest of it;

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

After a great session of golf, a hot shower combined with tunes of Guns & Roses “Sweet child of mine”  makes my morning even more mesmerizing. The only thing missing now is the hot and healthy breakfast. As I entered the dining room, I saw my sunny-side up eggs glaring at me. They could see their demise coming towards them. Before I had the chance to devour them, I got a call from my office. I was informed of an urgent meeting to be attended in Islamabad, I agreed even before they finished their sentence. My excitement of traveling even to the nearest of places could not be hidden. As if, I was already waiting for the inevitability to come across my way. There it was knocking at my door, eager to fall into my lap. I didn’t get on a plane like I wished this morning, still I was on the road, on the move. 

Paulo Coelho describes this situation best, “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it.” 

Journeys are not sheer travels, sometimes they are spiritual and internal. A journey of the soul is a walk you take alone, to find who you are, what your problems are, and to become one with the universe. This is an adventure that you go through by yourself. It’s purpose is not to find answers, rather it is about asking questions. It sometimes is like a cacti’s journey; without water, without fertile soil in vast meaningless sand, it grows, survives and flourishes. Other times it resembles the life of lichen that sprouts from snow and ice. 

We cannot lead our lives merely on wishes and comforts. There are times when the going gets tough. People who remain composed in the face of failures or victories alike are the actual winners. Those who stay grateful even in scarcity or in affluence are the true travelers of life. 

Some travels are made from inside of a prison cell like Nelson Mandela’sMother Teresa took her selfless tour of passion and presence. Abdul Satar Edhi created a world’s largest web of ambulances to protect life. Forrest Gump ran in search of the soul. Christopher Columbus sailed to discover new continents. Neil Armstrong rocketed to reach the moon. Malala Yosafzai made a fatal journey for females’ right to education and Greta Thunberg’s voyage to save the earth are a few expeditions to consider. Life itself is a journey, we keep going nonstop to destinations unknown. A seed also begins its growth from under the soil, where it’s sowed, to transform into a grand tree only to fall back on the earth to be buried again. No matter what form of a journey we choose to take, we ought to go somewhere. Idleness is lifelessness. Movement itself is the sign of life. 




Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, entrepreneur, blogger, poet, author, wanderer 

Email: golfaij@gmail.com

Website: golfaij.com

Responsible Resident

I have survived many fights, both external and internal. I have been through plenty of ups and downs. I have failed and passed quite a few tests. But I have never come across anything like it. They have declared it a pandemic but many are suspicious. Doctors are dying, nurses are vulnerable, and protectors are unprotected. All precautions in the laboratories are insufficient. The plasma of the affected is more valuable than the normal blood. No place is safe and no one is immune. Homes, localities, towns, cities, countries, continents and from hilltops to oceans, the disease is omnipresent. It’s unseeable, unfeelable, inaudible, and unrecognizable. It has no taste and no color. It’s a killer among us that kills from within. 

I have been trying to refrain from writing about COVID-19 but it has exponentially prolonged that it has become impossible to remain silent. You may regard this writing as my attempt to protest against this oppressor. 

What can we do about it, how do we escape or evade it, where can we be safe? We are still in search of answers about this horrible invader. We hear hundreds of experts, obey government instructions, live in lockdown and observe curfews. We unwillingly stay away from our elders in their most needful days. We keep a safe distance and follow quarantine. We have closed schools, worship homes, malls, restaurants, cinemas, clubs, playing ground, parks and locked ourselves in homes. Yet it goes on proliferating, unstoppably. 

We have heard and watched so many medical, religious, social and all kinds of sermons about it. Special recipes of homemade cures flood our social media. The talk show hosts exceeded their roles overnight turning into pundits on viral diseases. So-called doctors are even calling it a conspiracy, others are giving birth to strange theories of their own. UFO (Unidentified Flying Objects) enthusiasts suspect it to be an aliens’ intervention in earthly affairs. 

 In the meantime it continues to creep in closer and nearer to us; in our state, in our city and then in our street. After seeing it in our backyard, most of us now begin to treat it as a reality. It is real and it is here. 

In the initial weeks, we dealt with it like sweepstakes holidays. We began to enjoy a calendar full of free days. Cook food of our tastes. Get glued to Netflix and HBO. Spend hours in our studies. Watch favorite matches that we have missed. Have great family time. As our intake of news, television, and social media increases, so does the anxiety. They say bad times do not come alone. With it arrived a flood of economic stress, unemployment and joblessness. The worst stricken are daily wagers and small business entrepreneurs, the business of rental income and the services industry. 

Consequently, this pandemic has sprung threats at all levels and from different angles. It resembles menace to sinners and pious alike. The rich and the poor, white and black, young and aged, all are its victims. 

I would like to request my self-proclaimed messiah friends to stop flooding our phones with herbal remedies. I want to inform them that the cure does not lie in fennel seeds or basil leaves like they broadcast on a daily basis. 

Instead of wasting our time to look for solutions for the disease, we should leave that work to the professionals. I think we can stick to the protective protocol, enforce it in our surroundings and start to live an active life within the limitations of the new normal. We can encourage our neighbors and dear ones to strictly abide by the COVID-19 instructions at all costs for our joint welfare. We must learn to live with it while our scientific brethren are working hard to come up with a vaccine. We should do our part to keep society afloat as responsible residents. I don’t think we can do anything more than that. Here are few guidelines by CDC USA, more like that are available online. 

COVID-19 rules golf guidelines 


Protesters and political gatherings 

Washington post

Religious organizations


Travel & vacation 



Ahsan Jamil

Golfer, entrepreneur, blogger, author, poet, wanderer 

Email: golfaij@gmail.com

Website: golfaij.com

Golf Under A Scorching Sun

I stepped on the weight machine and the increase in pounds was out of proportion. I decided to resume golf ASAP. The Golf management Committee at my regular golf club had closed the club taking a precaution in lieu of out of control virus proliferation. 

My weight and coronavirus both are multiplying phenomenally. 

Before nightfall I had arranged to play at PAF Sky-view Golf & country club 5:30 the next morning. I chose a Walter Hagen light gray golf shirt, tailor made blue black & gray print shorts, black sleeves, gray wide brim sun hat, black Under Armor belt, gray ankle socks and a pair of black adidas golf shoes. I put my golf watch and my phone on a wireless charger and jump into bed to get adequate sleep so I would be able to display my mastery at golf shots early in the morning. It was already one thirty am. It made them a little uncomfortable that I don’t have six hour left  to sleep. They say good sleep is a prerequisite of better performance at the golf course next morning.  I tried to sleep comfortably because all set for a great morning with golf. The mixed feelings of anxiety and excitement took its toll and it took me another hour to get to snoring. 

As a result I got up by 5:15 am drowsy and lethargic. I didn’t feel like going anywhere and I obeyed my true feelings and went back to sleep. 

I got up again by 8:00 am. I got ready and within no time was on the road to the golf course. It’s only a couple of miles from my home. I was on the tee at 8:40. 

On this hot June morning the sun was piercing and the wind was absent. The course was absolutely silent and empty. My caddie and myself were the two Adventures to challenge a burning sun and a few yellow wasps. They both seemed to be annoyed by our presence. 

As soon as I hit the first driver shot the realization that before arriving at the tee I should have played a couple of buckets at the range was quite obvious. It turned out that my one wood was angrier than sun and wasps. It completely denied my repeated attempts and sheepishly I packed it in my golf kit and plucked three wood out of it. Three wood performs best when promoted to hit a driving shot. The hot weather, disturbed wasp, angry golf stick, and sleepless golfer can create  a classic combination of combusting malfunction. That is so visible in execution of my second shot. Such was the beginning of my morning with golf. You can easily guess the climax of today’s game.  

Since the ballooning tummy and ever raising body weight were the major driving force that uprooted me from my quarantine It kept going to the pin without any embarrassment. I didn’t care how I was playing, I was determined to go on. My game began to settle onward  from the second tee. 

Instead of appreciating my quick return to game the sun was getting jealous even began to burn harder sharper as if I my better performance was against it. Sun did not bother to give any relief, rather it burned more in resent. I had completed four holes by now. First hole I didn’t count because of more than one tee shot. The rest were bogies. And I was soaked in my own sweat by now. My hands were immersed in gloves and my hair was all wet. I was feeling thirsty and completely worn out as I took off from the fifth. My resistance to heat was fading fast. During the posture of the next shot I was having an urge to surrender to the might of the sun and take its anger seriously. On the green of the fifth where the clubhouse was close by, I made up my mind to conclude the day’s game in complete acceptance of defeat from the sun. I tried twice to land the ball inside the hole but the ball was also in the mood to give in. With a long face I was heading to the parking lot. I have accepted defeat from the sun but I will not give up to my fat belly and weight gain. I will return tomorrow at dawn to sweat it out for good. 




Ahsan Jamil

Golfer, author, entrepreneur, blogger, poet, wanderer

Email: golfaij.com

Website: golfaij.com

Ode To You

You are in my heart, you are in my soul, you are the light in my eyes and you are music in my mind. Time stands still to peek at you and the sun burns deep inside your love. Moon weeps to come back to you and the stars shine in hopes of meeting you. Flowers bloom to make you laugh and trees twirl to appease you. Songbirds sing for your ears and peacocks spread magnificent plumes in your honor. Poets write poems and bands make melodies to make you dance. Love is your aura and life is your essence. Earth is a beautiful planet but your presence adds to its ambiance. Beauty sits in your feet and patience is your posture. Wisdom is your grace and intelligence is your smile. Hearts throb for your looks and minds crave your perfume. Eyes glitter with your sight while souls soothe. 

It is you who is one of the cutest among creations and reflection of the creator’s best mood. Colors spring through your cheeks and illuminate dawns from your forehead. Language is insufficient to praise you and vocabulary falls short for your admiration. 

I was a fallen feather in a desert of fear and lust, driven by the air of greed and gloom, you appeared in my life to wind me up to fly again. Nothing could pull me away from the crowd of fools but an encounter of your graceful eyes. I haven’t been able to look beyond ever since I have seen your charm. Who wants to meet anyone else and who wishes to watch something more. What a wonderful look it was that we exchanged. I look no further. You fulfill my heart and complete my love. I love you. 

Looking for Your Face

From the beginning of my life

I have been looking for your face

but today I have seen it

Today I have seen

the charm, the beauty,

the unfathomable grace

of the face

that I was looking for

Today I have found you

and those who laughed

and scorned me yesterday

are sorry that they were not looking

as I did

I am bewildered by the magnificence

of your beauty

and wish to see you

with a hundred eyes

My heart has burned with passion

and has searched forever

for this wondrous beauty

that I now behold

I am ashamed

to call this love human

and afraid of God

to call it divine

Your fragrant breath

like the morning breeze

has come to the stillness of the garden

You have breathed new life into me

I have become your sunshine

and also your shadow

My soul is screaming in ecstasy

Every fiber of my being

is in love with you

Your effulgence

has lit a fire in my heart

and you have made radiant

for me

the earth and sky

My arrow of love

has arrived at the target

I am in the house of mercy

and my heart

is a place of prayer






Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, entrepreneur, blogger, poet, author, wander

Email: golfaij@gmail.com

Website: golfaij.com

The Curiosity To Change

Golf courses are open, but the aura of the game has dimmed. The weather is pleasant this June, however the pandemic seems endless. Golfers have abundant time; on the other hand they are reluctant to tee off. Gas prices have fallen to unprecedented lows still no one wants to drive. All of us have nothing to do, even so we refrain from going out. Restaurants are open nevertheless most of us are unresponsive. As B.B. King sings, “ Thrill is gone baby.

Everyone welcomes the shift from complete lockdown to smart lockdown and some of us do it more enthusiastically, others animalistically violate it from all angles. As a result conditions are deteriorating again in many countries. I have decided to pause going to the office, playing golf and socializing once more. For a golfer and entrepreneur it is not easy to sit at home. It’s the blogger and writer in me that administers my day during quarantine. Putting golf on a standstill expasterates me but writing about it provides me comfort. 

Usually wives and husbands want each other to come home on time but lockdown has cooled off their wish to have one another closer. Spouses’ long lasting desire to be together more is evaporating in thin air. They just want to see each other leave home for work or whatever. Despite their love for each other, they both are getting impatient with one another. Distance and space between couples make relationships tenderer and stronger.

Being at the golf course makes my day more delightful. Staying away from it, makes me feel kind of zombish. I remain slow, sluggish, drained, empty and irritated. I wonder whether it’s sheer addiction or no exercise syndrome that brings upon those feelings. 

In order to escape such inconveniences, books are the best refuge. I know audio and online books are a great facility. I used to enjoy it but for the last couple of days I feel nostalgic for conventional paper books. The aroma of the paper of a new book, the unbended cover and the shuffling of the pages that bring a smile to an excited reader. Some of us get satisfied merely by the purchase of a new book, as if the cashier has transferred the entire content into our pocket. A few assume as if they have acquired knowledge that sits on the shelves by merely walking through the library. They amble out in a scholarly style. 

I used to keep a distance from the library and bookstores while I was enrolled into an educational institution. The fever of reading came much later. I had excelled in the art of false pretenses and the disguise of an intelligent student. I was a struggling poet and successful pseudo linguist. Like I am an almost-golfer and approximate-writer nowadays. Whatever it was, my career has kept a space to fill in the blank. One thing I learned out of all such activities is that staying close to reality gives us an opportunity to improve and advance at any stage of our life. Time wasted and age spent can’t be recovered but we can increase proficiency at any period. 

It’s great to learn instead of trying to hide our inefficiency. I have made it a habit to learn one new word by heart daily. It amazes me how many words are out there that I am unacquainted with. If you are interested in improving your vocabulary, you can subscribe to Word Genius

Language, knowledge and information in this century are infinite; our entire struggle to learn can only be a glimpse and never a grasp. One needs an extension of the brain like a computer and internet in order to swim through the sea of cognizance. Better late than never. Only those who accept that they understand less can learn more. The learned fellows that insist they are wisest of all are not enlightened at all. Claimants of having full mastery are either ignorant or arrogant. People that are students in their true spirit regardless of age and designation will comprehend further. 

“A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.” Shakespeare 

Humans are a miniscule entity on a minor planet in an infinite universe, how can they declare knowing it all. So learning is a continuous human bid. Knowledge is a common property not an individual enterprise. Mankind as a whole can attempt to achieve greater aggrandizement in erudition, solo only a fraction of it can be attained. 

He knows countless chapters of the sciences

But that wrongdoer does not know his soul

He knows the properties of every essence

But can he tell his own essence from an ass?

‘I know what is licit, what’s illicit’

But what about your self? You cannot say

If you’re licit or illiterate

You know religion’s grounds and rules, and yet

Look to your own roots, are they sound or not?




B.B. King



Business Insider

As You Like It by Shakespeare 

Masnavi by Rumi


Ahsan Jamil

Golfer, author, entrepreneur, blogger, poet, wanderer 

Email: golfaij@gmail.com

Website: golfaij.com

Golf On The Clouds

I am one golf junky for sure and if I call myself a golf enthusiast, it won’t do justice to my attachment for the sport. Be it junky golfers or sober souls, everyone is confined to their homes. Coronavirus pandemic has domesticated us forcibly.

Once I realized that COVID-19 lockdown is not a sprint but a marathon, I decided to develop a method to golf at home. I converted my front yard into a tamed golf range; conveniently practicing in accordance with my preferred timetable.

I was still missing something related to golf. Being restless in nature, I developed a website and began blogging about golf. Initially I was reluctant to write again since most of my previous attempts of being an author had crashed. The imprisonment of quarantine can make you do what you would never be able to do otherwise.

My fresh experiment seems to be working and an ever failing dream of writing is eventually materializing. Maybe because this time I venture to write about my most recent love, golf. When your task becomes passion, you perform wonders and obstacles start yielding, making limitations transform into calibre. I want to tell my family, friends, and esteemed readers that confinement of all sorts is a great opportunity to develop some sort of a skill.
Those who are blessed with resources, age, and time, owe this to society to become more useful and rewarding. I would invite everyone to use this quarantine in their favor to develop some new abilities and master existing ones. Just a little more hard work and concentration can save you from frustration and improve your personality. If math is the language of the universe, hard work is the dialect of success. Don’t fit in. Stand out!
Furthermore, after sessions of writing I am still missing something golf-oriented. Since I speak to my golf buddies regularly on the phone and video call, the only thing that remains out of reach is golf courses.
Can I be missing golf courses? Astonishingly, quite similar to the good Lord himself; golf loves you in mysterious ways. Golf is already magical and gets more mesmerizing when we can’t play it. As a sincere golfer, you can even daydream about it and that is a more effective way to play than simulators.
Sparta reminds me: “You only fight the best when you don’t have anywhere left to go.” It is an admitted fact that Covid 19 protocol prevents us from leaving home bodily but it should not stop us from going anywhere through thoughts. We can certainly put our mind on the move to score our passions; defeating the physical incapacitation to roam frankly.
Stay home, stay happy and keep in touch with golf and with yourselves.
Ahsan JamilGolfer, Author, Poet, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Wanderer.Email: golfaij@gmail.comWeb: aijgolf.com
Credits:- Whatsapp- Pinterest

A Morning With Farmers

It’s a great morning today, clouds have surprised us all. Dark skies and the temperature in the twenties on 6th of June in Lahore is a blessing. Super hot Jeth is covered by the roof of darkening shadows. The cool weather seems persistent this week denying the usual summer heat. 

Without a roar, clouds begin to seep little rain drops in my front lawn. Trees dance in the rainfall and grass absorbs all of the fallen aqua under it’s dry skin. Air conditioning further chills the TV lounge. Tea tastes better and the aroma of Paratha and omelet adds more to the savour of a cloudy morning. Rain embellishes a special fragrance to the delta soil that soothes souls. Together the shallow breeze and sprinkle on the window glass orchestrate a gratifying melody of precipitation. Mist descends into the veranda on the left. Black skies cover Lahore like a burka hides Afghan beauty. Candidly, my heart is receiving it all. I also want this temperature to last longer. Along with the greenery, I wish we could preserve this weather. 

Usually I spend summer in North America, this year COVID-19 makes this out of the question. Instead Northern weather follows me here. Everything and everyone is wondering where is this rain coming from in June? Herbs and bushes celebrate downpour, further straightening their leaves in order to welcome more drops. The entire life is revitalizing and promising to multiply at a greater magnitude. 

I decided to go on a drive towards the river Ravi outside of the city on the Sialkot-Lahore motorway. Both sides of the freeway consist of rich agricultural lands. From the car, I saw both male and female farmers  working strenuously in the field. I appreciated them from afar. Soon after, I felt compelled to get out of my car to take pictures. As I moved closer, I asked for permission to snap them. They did not allow me to photograph the females, I’m guessing because of their soaked attire. I conceded to their reasonable objection and proceeded to capture the males. In my exchange of words during the shoots, they conveyed their dismay towards the society for its complete disregard for them. 

It is the paddy plantation season in Punjab. Under the scorching sun in an inundated muddy field, farmers sow the rice crop.The process of planting rice herbs is a very laborious task. The hot weather makes it even more demanding. On a morning like this, the farmers must be thankful to the clouds that shield the burning sun. It’s nothing less than a practice of surviving in hell. Rain for this plantation is Godsent. The cooler weather makes it easier for rice growers that plant by hand. Imagine dipping each herb into the soil in standing water, under the sun in temperatures above 100*F. 

Most of the world is either fighting against the pandemic or protesting to seek justice and equality. Farmers indifferent to such affairs are determined to grow their crops in time. Just so we have food. These growers are doing the most important work, ensuring our food safety. The world does not pay any attention to the essential food warriors. Their work is hard but their payment is meagre. Worldwide, farmers are highly underpaid and at the verge of collapse. When the whole world is crying for change for equality and justice, I would like to present the case of agricultural labor before they come to the streets and shout for their rights. Governments across the globe should pay attention to their silent struggles. In the case that the agriculture workforce decides to go on strike, all of us would go hungry. 

The famous Basmati rice is the major product of central Punjab. This land is so fertile that nothing refuses to grow here. Punjab is the food basket of the subcontinent. Multiple grains, rice, wheat, sugarcane, cotton, vegetables and fruits are among major crops here. At the moment, it is a season of mango harvest. Punjabi mangoes are world renowned and they are absolutely delicious.

Punjab is a major milk producing region in the world. Unique buffalo milk has a taste of its own. Since most of us are locked in our homes, I would like to present some photographs that I took on my long drive on the Sialkot-Lahore motorway. You can witness the fertility of Punjab on your screen. The story of the Sialkot-Lahore motorway is incomplete without the mention of river Ravi. Ravi divides eastern and western Punjab between Pakistan and India. The land of Punjabis may be divided between two countries but their culture, norms, taboos, dialect, and agricultural practices are the same. So is the industrious work and plight

of the farmers on both sides of the border. 

Rainy weather is one of the most famous references in subcontinental literature and “swings of monsoon” is in the center of it. 

A poem from a contemporary poet. 


Since the 

First drop of monsoon rain fell,

In the front yard of my clay house.

The aroma of the soil 

Dominates across it. 

Like your fragrance used to. 


Tyar Khan 






Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, poet, blogger, author, entrepreneur, wanderer

Email: golfaij@gmail.com

Web : golfaij.com

Sultans Of Swing

The inspiration of today’s title is from Dire Strait’s track: ‘Sultans of swing.’ Yes we all desire to swing impressively but there is only one that can be called the sultan of swing, he is none other than the GOAT (greatest of all time), Tiger Woods. 

A child called Eldrick Tont Woods aka (also known as) Tiger Woods was born on December 30th, 1975 in Cyprus California. He descends from a hoard of different ethnicities. The only child of an African American Army Officer whose heritage consisted of white, asian, and native american; and Kultida, a native of Thailand whose own ancestry includes Chinese and Dutch. He turned out to be a golf lord and carries a corking career. The list of his remarkable achievements is long and envying. His life is an open message that multiplication of races can breed a generation of unprecedented achievers. Bob Marley is another reference in the context. 

Tiger is a son of Rtd. Col. Earl Woods. Earl was a Vietnam veteran, a college-level football player and a writer. He wrote books like ‘Training A Tiger,’ ‘Playing Through,’ and ‘Start Something: You Can Make a Difference.’ 

GolfDigest Associate Editor Mathew Rudy, asks Earl Woods 

“Let’s talk about training Tiger. Are you worried that your success in raising him has created a bunch of parents who push their kids toward unrealistic goals?”

Earl “Yes. And I tried to head it off. I make it very, very clear [in Training a Tiger] that my purpose in raising Tiger was not to raise a golfer. I wanted to raise a good person. And hopefully I gave specific enough directions that parents won’t go overboard and use their child’s success to validate their own self-worth”. 

Tiger was provided an opportunity and he got the maximum out of it. Time, age and resources were there at his disposal and he worked very hard to make use of all those. When the role of your duty combines with your passion you perform miraculously.  

Golf is a bouquet of swings. Some swings are perfect and some are loose. It takes a lot of practice to learn a proper golf swing. Tiger’s swing has achieved unprecedented record breaking performance that buried all competition. This makes him sultan of swing

Each golfer dreams to hit it perfectly, many spend hours practicing on the golf range but can not translate the swing in their mind to the field. I stand tall among them. I have played for a long time with this assumption that I have learned how to swing. The more I get seasoned the more I realize what is missing in my swing. I think it is a lifelong learning and lurking that lingers on. Golf requires patience, practice, skill, talent, and rhythm to get finer. It’s like learning to dance. The more you dance the better you become. 

I play golf with music. According to Michael Fasano co-host of Golf Podcast, waltz is best for golf practice on range. Of course we can’t play golf with earphones on so I have attached a speaker to my golf kit with the compliments of Bluetooth and iTunes. Tiger’s favorite song is “Return of the Mark” by Mark Morrison. He says he grew up listening to music from the late 80’s and 90’s notably Prince & Michael Jackson. 

Lately I am going through a dry spell in life and dull time in my writing. My mood is completely withered and my feelings are barren. Music, reading, calls to friends, chit chat with loved ones, TV, and movies nothing is comforting anymore. Once the COVID-19 attack inflated recently, I paused golf again. Again, no golf has turned into no satisfaction. That really takes a harsh toll and makes me sulky and morose. This swing in my mood is far from a Sultan’s rather frames me as obnoxious. 

This write up is an attempt on my part to stay in touch with my readers and to keep my blog afloat. Your opinion and feedback would matter much in my future endeavors. It’s the overlapping frustration from this long and unpredictable pandemic that’s ballooning up again. Wish you all healthiness, happiness and hilariousness.  May you swing & shine like Tiger. Swing on. 

Steel Panther: “Just like Tiger woods” 


Golf Tv

Golf Podcast








Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, author, poet, blogger, entrepreneur, wanderer 

Email: golfaij@gmail.com

Web: golfaij.com


On the move is all of existence, the universes, the galaxies, the stars, the planets, the moons, the asteroids, the stones, and the dust. So is time, the millennium, the century, the year, the day, the hour, the minute, and the second. And life too is on the go, the kingdom, the phylum, the classes, the order, the families, the genus, and the species. Water is also running, the ocean, the cloud, the precipitation, the glacier, the stream, the river, the lake, the tab, the drop. And there is homo sapien in the center of this whirlpool. In a human, lies the most mysterious of all existence, the mind. It lives in a brain that is 5.9 inches long and weighs 3 pounds. It’s the movement which goes inside the mind that counts. 

Movement is essential to existence and indispensable to resistance. Movement brings light and hosts night. Motion sometimes displays penumbra and shows an eclipse. Movement makes it possible for stars to shine in the sky and make them disappear in the brightness of another. The movement of stars is a precise constant. Everything is in search of something or doing it to appease another. 

It’s movement in a live heart that controls life. It is the running of blood that keeps it going. A slight movement of an eyelid can electrify someone’s heart and a minor movement of a finger can burn someone with rage. Sincere moves breed sincerity. Stable moves produce stability. Insecure movement leads to insecurity. 

Movement has played a very vital role in human evolution. According to Ibrahimic beliefs,  Adam was moved from heaven to earth as a punishment for his disobedience. I think that was the most innocent mistake humanity ever made. The punishment also reveals the creator’s mercifulness.

Love is also a movement in feelings. Kings left crowns and princesses chose salves. If love is a move, no other movement can be more magnificent than that. It’s love that shifts hearts and it’s love that makes life worth it. 

It was a movement that engineered an evolution from hominid to homo sapien to human beings, from half walk to bipedalism

Humans now have learned to move in space and beyond.The greatest asset that brought humanity to a marvelous stage is the movement of their hands. It got them ingenuity and craftsmanship leading them to be inventors of hand made objects. In my opinion, among these creations weapons are the most dangerous ones. The most important movement humans learned to make was the one of the tongue, prettiest of all is dance, sweetest of all is music and tastiest of all is cooking. 

Not all movements are body movements, some are born in the mind. Such are the ones that change the course of history. Mankind’s anthropological and social movements are as important as his biological and physical ones. Man evolved from a couple to a family to a clan to a tribe to a nation and to humanity as a whole. He makes this journey in the laps of different theological, philosophical, political and technological movements. Some of these are going on today as well. The recent, upward movement of the NASA & SpaceX rocket and “Black Lives Matter” that we see on our screens these days are among these struggles. The voyage of human progress owes a great deal to the movements in their collective minds.

The most important movements of our days are the environmental ones. All of us should contribute to these in all respects. So we can save and protect our only home in the entire universe. 

Photo by Ben Heine on Flickr.




Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari 

By Ahsan Jamil 

Author, poet, blogger, entrepreneur, Golfer and wanderer

Walk Like An Egyptian

I am the second golfer to reach the golf course this morning. While the first golfer opts to take off from the tenth tee, I choose to start from tee one. These two tees are twins sitting parallel to each other. The fellow sportsman doesn’t waste any time on warm-up and off he goes. 

I, on the other hand, begin to warm up by standing on the tee while my caddie makes adjustments for me to take a shot. In the meantime, an old fellow appears on the tee, fixes his ball, steals my turn recklessly, and  swings it hard straight to the bunker. I suppose he woke up on the wrong side of the bed, he is visibly angry. I smile and think how this guy will get through the rest of the day with a mood like that. He begins his morning violating others rights at 4:30 am. May golf calm and exhaust him, I hope.

I am trying to ignore him while my caddie insists that it’s our turn. I ask him to let it go. Anyone so discourteous at this old age, with such anguish for nothing valuable, is either in trouble or a trouble himself. Besides I am here to golf, not to lead society on the right path on a charming dawn like today. The apprehending weather and trees with open arms desire to hold me. The lushness of the grass is making me a sheet in the wind’s eye. It is only the morning breeze riding on the first light that keeps me attached to reality. Songbirds are performing polyphony of the daybreak and clouds are in the mood to pour drops of grace.It’s the sound of the “one wood” at hole two that adds splendor to this crack of dawn. The touchdown of the ball in the middle of the fairway appends glory to my nonpareil satisfaction. 

Trees on the right side of the fairway seem annoyed because my shot misses them and unexpectedly moves in the right direction. They think it’s my duty and their right to receive a ball each time I play at this fairway. I walk like an Egyptian whenever my tee shot goes straight; I don’t get to imitate a Pharaoh often. 

This shot grants me faith to attempt a regulation on the pin. Surprisingly the job is done well. The caddie utters, “good shot.” In the meantime I behave as if two good shots in a row was a routine. In a prideful move, I collect the putter from my bag and approach the ball waiting for me approximately two feet from the hole. Crowned by the previous two shots, I am anxious to usher it into the hole. It stops on the edge totally ignoring my requirements. I came so close to my long awaited “birdie”. My caddie however claims, “birdie”, he further explains that due to the coronavirus protocol it is considered a putt. I reply, “No, I won’t take it. I am neither in the mood to take a favor from a killer (coronavirus), nor I would accept a bribe from you”.

Borrowed victory in life gets us nowhere but to a jungle of shortcuts. When one makes a false claim, one only deceives oneself. Win through effort grants joy, while corruption digs you in depression. In order to maintain my positivity I happily add a par to the Golfshot app and propel myself towards the next tee. 

At times like this I miss my golf buddies even more. If we were playing together they could have bucked me up at the previous putt. Anyways, distance makes a sincere friendship more binding. I will play with my friend again since he has won the fight with COVID-19. Both of his tests came negative. He is in rehabilitation now. Soon I will do what coronavirus failed to do. I will beat his a… at the next round we play together. Get well soon bro. 

By Ahsan Jamil

Golfer, author, port, blogger, entrepreneur, wanderer