LEARNING SWIMMING ON MY OWN
-------------------------------------------------------
It was during the peak of summer and was around noon. The sun was scorching.
I started to walk from my house towards a big well on the outskirts of my
town, in Tirunelveli district. My aim was to learn swimming on my own.
Having just passed my seventh grade, I was enjoying summer vacation. I had
learnt cycling on my own. I even learnt how to whistle by forming a
loop with my thumb and the index finger over my folded tongue. Raja, a
classmate of mine taught me this cool thing. For a school-going boy,
there was probably nothing cooler
than this.
I wanted to learn swimming for a while and had asked my dad, who was an
expert swimmer, to teach me the art but he was always busy with his job in
the port town of Tuticorin. I had learnt the theory of swimming from my
friends and had practised flipping my hand and feet while lying on my cot in
my bedroom. What made it all the more urgent was the fact that a few of my
friends could perform many stunts while in water. Some of them could go
underwater and emerge after a while with a handful of sand scooped from the
floor of the well. Some of them could stay underwater for a long time.
Whenever I happened to go beside the well, I used to watch curiously at
people swimming. Some would remain afloat for a long time. I admired the few
who jumped into the well from the top of the adjacent room housing a motor.
The splash it created would be so inviting that my urge to learn swimming
grew stronger each time I saw it.
On that day my mother along with my sisters and brother had gone to attend a
family function across the street. Thinking that it was the apt time, I
reached the well. The wall around the well was just two feet high even
though the well was deep and the pristine blue water enhanced the depth of
the well. There was no one in the vicinity except for a person who was
climbing stairs inside the well. He would have been in his twenties
and was leaving the place after having a bath.
I descended the steps and was standing on the last stair above the water
level. I removed my shirt, rehearsed my swimming
lessons on my cot and jumped into the water.
Suddenly, everything appeared new to me. Hazy it was and I recalled the MGR
film Ulagam Sutrum Vaaliban (more precisely, the song sequence Aval oru
navarasa nadagam) MGR swims along with his lover. But he was wearing an
oxygen mask. I tried to do what I had all along practised on my cot. But I
was not successful.
I stretched and moved my hands, but was not able to move my legs. Theory was
way different from the practical. Once inside the water, I vigorously moved
my hands and came up. Once I reached the top I stopped flapping and sank
back. This routine continued for a few minutes.
I realised my predicament and suddenly thought about my parents and
siblings. I thought I was going to die. Suddenly, I could feel a pain in my
head. Someone had caught hold of my hair and was pulling me up. My saviour
was the man who I had seen me as I approached the well.
As I put on my shirt, he slapped me heavily on my back. I ran towards my
house, not having the courage to turn back. Behind, I could hear my saviour
reprimanding me.
(This was actually published in The New Indian Express website, during October 2009)
-------------------------------------------------------
It was during the peak of summer and was around noon. The sun was scorching.
I started to walk from my house towards a big well on the outskirts of my
town, in Tirunelveli district. My aim was to learn swimming on my own.
Having just passed my seventh grade, I was enjoying summer vacation. I had
learnt cycling on my own. I even learnt how to whistle by forming a
loop with my thumb and the index finger over my folded tongue. Raja, a
classmate of mine taught me this cool thing. For a school-going boy,
there was probably nothing cooler
than this.
I wanted to learn swimming for a while and had asked my dad, who was an
expert swimmer, to teach me the art but he was always busy with his job in
the port town of Tuticorin. I had learnt the theory of swimming from my
friends and had practised flipping my hand and feet while lying on my cot in
my bedroom. What made it all the more urgent was the fact that a few of my
friends could perform many stunts while in water. Some of them could go
underwater and emerge after a while with a handful of sand scooped from the
floor of the well. Some of them could stay underwater for a long time.
Whenever I happened to go beside the well, I used to watch curiously at
people swimming. Some would remain afloat for a long time. I admired the few
who jumped into the well from the top of the adjacent room housing a motor.
The splash it created would be so inviting that my urge to learn swimming
grew stronger each time I saw it.
On that day my mother along with my sisters and brother had gone to attend a
family function across the street. Thinking that it was the apt time, I
reached the well. The wall around the well was just two feet high even
though the well was deep and the pristine blue water enhanced the depth of
the well. There was no one in the vicinity except for a person who was
climbing stairs inside the well. He would have been in his twenties
and was leaving the place after having a bath.
I descended the steps and was standing on the last stair above the water
level. I removed my shirt, rehearsed my swimming
lessons on my cot and jumped into the water.
Suddenly, everything appeared new to me. Hazy it was and I recalled the MGR
film Ulagam Sutrum Vaaliban (more precisely, the song sequence Aval oru
navarasa nadagam) MGR swims along with his lover. But he was wearing an
oxygen mask. I tried to do what I had all along practised on my cot. But I
was not successful.
I stretched and moved my hands, but was not able to move my legs. Theory was
way different from the practical. Once inside the water, I vigorously moved
my hands and came up. Once I reached the top I stopped flapping and sank
back. This routine continued for a few minutes.
I realised my predicament and suddenly thought about my parents and
siblings. I thought I was going to die. Suddenly, I could feel a pain in my
head. Someone had caught hold of my hair and was pulling me up. My saviour
was the man who I had seen me as I approached the well.
As I put on my shirt, he slapped me heavily on my back. I ran towards my
house, not having the courage to turn back. Behind, I could hear my saviour
reprimanding me.
(This was actually published in The New Indian Express website, during October 2009)
No comments:
Post a Comment