Breathless

My desperate gasp for air was about as successful as untangling hair uncombed for days with a single sweep of the fingers. I cannot explain this sensation as much but several invisible arms taking hold of me – some dragging my legs deeper into the water, some wrapping around my arms, but most of them at my throat, suffocating me till my tireless paddling gave way to a peaceful numbness.  

In one moment I was standing on the bridge overlooking the lake, and the next, I was flailing my arms around wildly, trying to get hold of something to keep my body afloat. The last time I tried to swim was when I was seven, and in the last six years, my fear of it had remained firmly planted in my mind. As I screamed in-between breaths for help, my vision blurred by the lake water, all I could productively do was hope and pray for this not to be the last time I came in contact with water. 

Suspended, yet slightly above the surface, I wracked my brains in an effort to recall what I had learnt – miserably attempted to learn – in my swimming lessons when I was younger. Keep your face in the water, and kick fast with your legs. Your whole body should rest flat on the surface of the water, half in, half out, I heard my coach’s heavy voice say to me in my head. My first attempt at this was a sorry one. It ended in me choking on a couple of mouthfuls of water and lots of chaotic splashing.

The second time was a little better– I actually managed to float for three seconds. When I turned my head to the side to breathe, my legs sank below me and I was back to square one. Think, I told myself, and stop panicking! Once again, I thought back to my lessons, and decided to try cycling. Move your legs as if you are cycling, and hopefully you will float!

I didn’t float. All I could do after that was splash and paddle and continuously call out for help, using up all my breath, which was already limited by my surroundings. I did not think I could try to keep my head above the water for much longer. The numb, sinking sensation was returning, this time with a fascinating allure and a persuasive magnetism. It beckoned to me angelically, arms outstretched in a welcoming embrace. I felt its pull, and I almost closed my eyes. As the worried screams from above ebbed and dissolved, I felt as if it was only right to be oblivious to them all.

I think I would have died if it were not for Max, my friend’s brother. He rushed to the spot just in time – or so I got to know later – and dived fearlessly to my rescue. He pulled me along as he swam, and got me to the land safely. I still feel the pull of the lake water, as if it attached onto me a thread it tugs on, as and when it remembers me, and how I was going to disintegrate into it.