Fear from the eyes of a mad

I got myself drowned and almost killed in the deep end of the pool. And that I would say, is an understatement. Its a thin line between adventure and stupidity.....That, now makes sense to me.

A brilliant flash of effrontery gave me the conidence to push myself off the wall and use the momentum to swim to the shallow end. But this seemingly flawless scheme of action did not quite turn out the way I intended it to. I pushed myself at a downward incline.Balance was lost and I was drowning. I panicked like mad. The panic made it worse and when it got worse I panicked more.

I was trying to grab the water surface. As this desperate attempt for the surface was going on with little success, my crazy mind was rambling beyond boundaries housing some strangest, funniest and weirdest thoughts. I was cursing myself for the fool that I was. I was reminded of Vasanthi Atha, whose brother passed away as he did not know to swim when he was thrown into the pool during his Navy Training. How it will shatter her, to know that I died in a similar way. She and I shared a very special relation from when I was in my 2nd standard. The bastard that I would be, for doing this to my parents; what they would become. I cursed my roommate sambi, for it was his dream to swim alone, when the others were gone, as a result of which, I was left helpless when I was drowning. I was imagining how it would appear with only my hands above water moving randomly, trying to convey with those movements- “Dudes!!!! It cannot be more obvious…. I am dying”. Else probably that was not it. So I decided to wave only one hand like how they show in the movies. I could feel my legs cycling at a pace that was exponentially proportional to the fear of death mounting inside. As my right hand was gesturing my plight to the world above the water level, the left was hysterically trying all means to pull the 68kgs of mass against the gravity. I was cursing buoyancy for being a weaker force than gravity.

I was loosing hope. I was unsure as to how I have to react to one of the possible eventualities- Death. It was hard to convince myself that if that situation persisted for another couple of minutes, it implies my life is going to end. But at the same time a small portion of me was confident and it assumed that I was going to get out safe and was wondering how interesting the conversation would be with friends and others describing and narrating the incident and the associated stupidity.

And then, all of a sudden, my right hand hits the wall. That catapulted my dieing hope. I thought it was all over. The fear of death was, for a moment, surpassed by the hope that I derived from the touch of the wall. But this ephemeral hope died almost immediately when my hands lost it. The wall was gone. As much high my hopes soared it plummeted by same amounts to abysmal levels. By then I could also feel my body go heavy owing to the shit loads of chlorinated water that went in through the mouth and probably also the nose. The nausea made it worse. The situation was only getting worse. Giving up at this point implies death.

The hands were continuing their dance over the water and all of sudden grabed a rope, which materialised from no where. The hands gripped the rope like a dog to a bone. and determined not to let go of it at any cost.
I pulled myself up and over the water to see shanta holding the rope. I gasped as though I had ran a mile in less than half a minute.
I remember I said- "Thanks.. I thought I am going to die. I am alive." and her reaction- " loosu ".


The incident jolted my system so much so that 3 beers and 7 shots of tequila diluted into bloood like drinking water

Hey shanta.. I owe the world to you.