Why Indian golfers can’t let go of their masala chai

IFYOU'VE EVER travelled with Indian golfers ontout,you’ll quickly discoverthat there are three things they’ neverleave behind: their clubs, their passports, and their masala chai.

- Rahil Gangjee

The first two are obvious, the third is cultural DNA.We’re golfers, yes, but when the suitcaseis zipped, it rattles with cardamom pods, cinnamon sticks, and a suspicious number of Ziplocbags that would make airport security scratch their heads.

I’ve beenaround long enough towitness this ritual across generations. The young guys now carry Bluetooth speakers, protein shakers, and iPads loaded with Netflix. But ask them what’s wrapped inside that carefully bubble-wrapped corner of their bag, and more often than not, it’s a stash of chai masalaandahalf-used strainer theirmother shoved inat the last minute.Because, let’s be real: no amount of flat whites, lattes, or cappuccinos abroad can replace the comfort of one steaming cup of masala chai.

The alien buffet problem

Picture this: you’ve flown 14 hours, landedina different time zone,and yourfirst breakfast is at a fancy international hotel. The spread looks impressive—pancakes, sausages, eggs, some green stuff that looks suspiciously healthy. But the first sip of coffee? It’s watery, bitter,and aboutas uplifting asathree-putt bogey.That’swhen the Indian golfer retreats to his room, sets up his “mini laboratory,’ and starts brewing chai ina kettlethat was probably meant for instant noodles. You laugh, but that chai becomes your anchor.One sip andyou’re transported from cold, gray Scotland back to a sunny veranda in Bangalorewhere yourmomnis yelling that you're late for practice. Or to a tea stall outside your home course where the uncle with the giant kettle has been serving the same overboiled brew since the 80s. On tour, that connection to home is priceless.

The lobby chai party