Watching India’s top-ranked golfer Saptak Talwar on the ramp, preparing to wind and unwind the full arc of his swing from a handshaking distance, with my own turn to follow, was an experience I never imagined I would have.I was the amateur in a group whose second professional was Jairaj Sandhu, ranked among India’s top 20 golfers. I was one of the many rookie participants in the Pro-Am event of the Kapil Dev Professional Golf Tournament, which was won by India’s leading golfer Shubhankar Sharma. The tournament was held days before Delhi hosted the prestigious DP World Tour event, in which some of the world’s top players participated.I had learnt of my pairing with Saptak and Jairaj just hours before the tee-off. For someone who had crossed 70 and was just six years into learning the intricate skills of the game, the occasion was overwhelming. It brought with it tension, a pounding heart and a churning stomach reminiscent of my younger days.When your muscles are fraying and bones creaking, to say learning a new sport is challenging would be an understatement. The beauty and utility of golf lie in its ability to let the young and the old play the game and because of the handicap system, even compete with each other. It is easy on your eyes and designed to challenge the youngest, the fittest, the less agile and the old.Golf is a sport where motion and stillness, action and pause somehow merge to create a timeless swing that embodies the very essence of its beauty — simple in execution, and laborious as well as tedious in preparation.Its swing is that perfect arc, completed in a pendulum-like, indivisible motion, weightless and friction-free, flowing like water in a stream. Yet achieving that spontaneity, that appearance of effortless ease, requires years of labour, sweat and toil, a pursuit that can consume a lifetime.Saptak, 27, and Jairaj, 29, are among those countless golfers in the world trying to master a sport that requires a deep understanding of the body’s rotational ability and the capacity to execute a stroke with mechanical precision. If the tiniest part of a muscle or bone falls out of sync, the ball, instead of falling on the fairway or green, can disappear into a water hazard or get lost in the jungle of trees, costing you an extra stroke.On golf’s learning ranges, you can hear coaches drilling instructions: “Soft grip, head still, shoulders relaxed, knees flexed, upright stance, lead arm straight, rotate shoulder, swing like a pendulum.” There are too many things to learn as you hold your club, look down at the ball and take a swing, hoping that it travels the distance you have aimed for and lands at the chosen spot.It is a drill that applies as much to the beginner as to the professional. Success goes to the person who can not only master these skills but, even more importantly, repeat them again and again, like the hands of a clock moving at a designed speed, never deviating from its path. It is as much a game of athletic ability as of meditative focus. When you chase birdies and pars on the golf courses of the world, time seems to stand still, even as your body and mind remain in constant move.Saptak and Jairaj are both muscularly fit, supple in their movements and courteous towards an intruder out to distract them with his duffs and over-the-top swings. They are calm, take their time preparing for each stroke and control their emotions when a shot goes wrong. I marvel at their poise and an unwavering routine designed to keep them focused and sharp.It is on the greens, while the three of us are putting, that I get the chance to observe these potential champions up close. The greens are difficult to read, the slopes can be a double-edged sword. They take their time, working out the line and the speed at which to move the putter. The ball either slides into the hole or tantalisingly misses it.It is here, on the greens, that the eventual winner is decided. Throughout the 18 holes, I have seen them reach the greens in mostly two strokes. The difference between a birdie and a par can be that one putt which separates the champion from the rest of the field.Kapil once told me that had he played golf during his cricketing days, he would have doubled the runs he scored and wickets he took in his career. The reason was not the additional athletic skills he might have acquired by playing golf but simply the art of focus, that meditative ability which defines the best golfers and keeps them unaffected by pressure.A week later, I was at the Delhi Golf Club, watching some of the best golfers compete on the narrow fairways of the course, designed to test the accuracy of their strokes rather than the distance they could achieve. The Spaniard Eugenio Chacarra mastered the course, never losing focus or overreaching himself. Rory McIlroy, in contrast, appeared distracted, his concentration seemingly lost in the sea of adulation that greeted him on the course.Saptak Talwar too was there, though not among the top finishers. His one-under-par score earned him a tied 55th place among the 144 participants. While Saptak aims for the moon next season, my lessons alongside him and Jairaj have made me realise that golf is a game in which time seems to relive itself through repetitive motions — easy to imagine, but extraordinarily difficult to execute.— The writer is the author of ‘Not Quite Cricket’ and ‘Not Just Cricket’