Pune - 1992
Rambhau Shinde returned home from work late one evening. He didn’t have what you would call a ‘traditional’ job. He was a hangman. His job was to tie a noose around prisoners condemned to death and pull down on the lever till the person stopped breathing. Of course, life at the gallows wasn’t exactly a financially fulfilling one. To say that his situation was a difficult one would be a massive understatement.
Trending
His daughter was in the hospital, his son-in-law, a security guard, was consumed by liquor, and his young grandson, who was not even in his teens, already had a challenging life ahead of him.
At the age of 10, the grandson was already all grown up. At the age of eight, he had worked as a forecaddie at the Pune golf course, which was made up completely of sand till 1993. The forecaddie’s main role back then was to swipe the sand and keep the course level for the players, hardly the job for a kid who should be spending his time going to school and being with other kids his age. But such was life.
By now, the grandson had also worked as a door-to-door salesman and as a truck cleaner. It seemed like he was destined for a nameless, faceless existence, something you would expect from most people in his situation.
As Rambhau entered the tiny house, he saw his grandson resting after a long day of physically strenuous work. He gingerly walked up to the young boy, lovingly patted him on his head and said,
“Pravin, do you want to hear a story? It’s about a great king.”
Pravin was all ears.
Pune - 2017
He was dressed elegantly in smart beige trousers and a black t-shirt emblazoned with a Volkswagen logo as he walked up to me and offered me his hand.
“Mr. Mahajan? I think you’re here to see me. I’m Pravin Pathare,” he said in his soft-spoken, friendly voice.
A few days prior to this meeting, I was looking for an interesting story. I’d asked a friend, who happens to be a professional golfer and sports enthusiast, to connect me with someone who I could write about.
“You should talk to Pravin. What a guy he is!” my friend exclaimed. He went on to briefly tell me the story of a boy who worked his way up from a caddie to a professional golfer and coach. While this piqued my curiosity, I wasn’t entirely sure how interesting this person would be. But I decided to meet him anyway.
So there I was, at Pune Golf Course, as Pravin shook my hand with a wide smile on his face.
We took a seat at the restaurant and got into conversation almost instantly. One look at his cheerful face, and you would have no idea of his struggles unless you didn’t know him.
“I did a lot of odd jobs when I was a kid. But I became a proper caddie in 1999, when I was 17. I first caddied for the MD of Swarovski,” Pravin replied when I asked him how his golfing journey started. “I knew there was something about golf that made me come back. It just seemed like there were so many opportunities, you know. So many people with money. I felt I could be around them long enough to get something of my own going.”
He has the kind of refreshing, disarming honesty that is fast becoming extinct in post-modern social protocol.
“While I was caddying, I decided to practice and learn golf properly. I started with a second-hand set that someone was kind enough to give me for free, but I realised I needed something better to improve my game. So, I saved Rs. 10,000 for over two years. Finally, in 2001, I bought a better second-hand set. That is when I started playing seriously.”
His story had just begun, and I was all ears.
Pune – 1992
Pravin paid rapt attention to the story of the king.
“The king came from a very humble background. Nobody expected him to become the king, but he did great things. People started to notice him, started talking about him. His actions inspired the entire kingdom. He was loved by one and all. And when the old king died without any heir, people decided that he would be the new king. Once he took charge, he brought great glory to the kingdom.”
Rambhau continued: “There was no doubt that the king was a great man, but nobody mentioned the queen. That’s the thing about queens. They’re the ones calling the shots when nobody notices. They’re the ones that really build or destroy kingdoms. Luckily for our king, he found the perfect woman. He was already on his way to becoming great, but she ensured he lived up to his potential.”
“But how did the king meet the queen?” he asked.
“She came from a foreign land. The first time the king laid his eyes on her, he knew she was the one. But there were many challenges. They didn’t even speak the same language. Society didn’t approve of their relationship in the start. They didn’t know if they were meant to be. But they overcame it all. Because a man becomes a king only because of the queen.”
Pune – 2017
I was paying rapt attention to Pravin’s story.
“Do you know that my wife is Ukrainian?”
Seeing the look of surprise on my face, he laughed.
“Yes, it was in 2006. Rajiv Datar, the man who helped me get my first golf sponsorship with Indoglobal, insisted that I study further. This was around the time I had got my coaching certificate too. So, I joined Wadia college. That’s where I met Yuliya.”
I quizzed him about the challenges they must have faced together.
“Oh, several,” he says, without any hesitation, and proceeds to list the major roadblocks.
“There were the obvious cultural differences. We come from such different backgrounds, you know. Another problem was the language barrier. I didn’t learn how to speak proper English till a few years ago, so communication was always difficult. Most of our arguments happened because we didn’t understand what the other person was saying. In fact, I remember accidently sending a few romantic messages to my female students instead of my wife. As you can imagine, she wasn’t very happy about that,” he laughs as he looks back at how far he’s come.
“But the truth is, she gives me so much strength. She’s always supported my golf. On good days, she ensures that I stay grounded, and lifts me up on the bad ones. I’m a lucky man.”
Rambhau was right: A man becomes a king only because of the queen.
Pune – 1992
Rambhau ended the story with a moral: “Honesty and hard work are the path to true greatness.”
“Are you honest and hardworking too?” Pravin asked.
“I try to be,” Rambhau replied with a smile.
“But you hang people.”
Rambhau laughed.
“So? That’s my job. And I am not ashamed of it. The people who I hang have been adjudged to be criminals by the court. I am merely executing the orders.”
He looked at Pravin intently and continued:
“There’s no right or wrong in the world. We cannot be the judge of that. We cannot be concerned by what people think about us. The worst thing in the world is the day you lie to yourself, when you cannot look at yourself in the mirror. Never lose respect for yourself, Pravin. It doesn’t matter what people say.”
As Pravin lay down to sleep that night, these words rung in his head. He had been given the blueprint for life. Now it was his job to create something meaningful.
Pune – 2017
“My grandfather has always been my biggest mentor and role model. I am lucky to have had someone like him in my life. I still remember and miss him even today,” Pravin says, wistfully remembering the salt-of-the-earth wisdom that was imparted to him over 25 years ago.
“You know, I wasn’t very close to my parents. My mother didn’t keep very well, while my father was a heavy drinker. I had to grow up very early. I worked odd jobs when most kids were out studying and playing. I had a family to take of. In order to support them, I did things I’m not proud of.”
“I stole food so that they could eat. I stole wires and metal so that I could sell it for scrap and make a little extra. I was young, hungry and thought that this was the only way I could make money. All that changed when I entered the golf course. That is when I realised that making money wasn’t difficult at all. It was then that I decided to be myself and live life on my own terms.”
He returned to his grandfather’s stories.
“The things he told me and the stories he narrated to me still stay with me. I apply his philosophy to my life. I believe in hard work, dedication and honesty. It is impossible to succeed without these things. I’m not a money minded person. If you chase success, money follows. If you run behind money, you make a lot of mistakes. My grandfather always said, history is created by those who try something different. That’s what I’m attempting in my own little way.”
I jump into his journey over the last ten years.
“Well, I became a certified coach in 2007. My first client was the MD of Volkswagen in Pune. In 2009, I became a brand ambassador for Volkswagen and haven’t looked back since.”
He proudly shows off the VW logo on his t-shirt.
“Golf gave me a lot. It gave me international exposure, I met a lot of people; citizens of 45 different countries, who I am still in touch with. We still share tremendous love and respect for each other. If you ask me, I’m living my dream.”
“Golf is a unique game. You compete only against yourself when you’re playing. Nobody else can influence your game and you are the only one responsible for the mistakes you make. You can understand who you are as a person when you play golf. Failure is a learning experience. For me, golf is like meditation.”
We were interrupted as a young kid, no more than ten years of age, who’s being coached by Pravin, came up to our table to talk to Pravin. Pravin told him that he would join him in a few minutes. This is when I realised we were reaching the end of our conversation.
“So, a lot of kids playing golf these days?” I tried to extend the conversation for as long as I could. I had already taken up enough of his time as it was.
“Oh, yes. Indian golf is really reaching new heights. It’s a great time to be a golfer and a coach in the country. The best part is that even children from a middle-class family can now afford to practice and learn. You know that golf is part of the Olympics, right?”
I nodded in affirmation. A quick Google search will tell you that golf made a comeback in the 2016 Olympics after 112 years.
“Ever since that happened, a lot has changed. Golf Clubs, that were looking only for the patronage of the elite, are now changing their strategy. Junior players are given the opportunity to play for a much lower cost in order to encourage them to pick up and stick to the game. In fact, India has some very talented junior players that are sure to make a mark on the international stage soon. It’s competing with football in terms of popularity. Cities like Delhi, Chandigarh, Mumbai and Bangalore have seen a massive growth in junior player registrations. The future looks very promising.”
As I pondered over what other aspects of his life I could delve into, we were once again interrupted by a senior gentleman, someone Pravin couldn’t ask to leave.
“I’m sorry, this is the Club Captain. I’m going to have to talk to him.”
The two of them departed, leaving me alone with my thoughts, wondering how I was going to do justice to his story.
What I have attempted to do is shed a little light on the life of an extraordinary man. He isn’t a celebrity, or the most famous golfer. He’s not a prodigy that everyone’s talking about, nor is a pundit or journalist whose opinions people clamour for.
What he is, however, is someone who embodies everything sport stands for. Grit, determination, fighting the odds and, in the end, inspiring people to become better versions of themselves just by listening to him.
Greatness isn’t just limited to an international cricketer smashing a double century, or a footballing superstar scoring a hat trick. Sometimes, greatness is quiet, it is subtle. Greatness is rising above the darkness you were destined for and making it on your own terms in the unlikeliest of ways. Pravin Pathare is a great man, and, in all likelihood, not too many people will ever know of him. But they should. There’s a lot we could all learn. About golf, about life.
