I live underwater. I move silently. I am deadly - The Prelude
I dont know to swim. Not that I lack the genes for it - both my father and his are excellent swimmers. Little sis and I would piggyback behind my dad and he would swim across the swift currents created by the confluence of the Ganga, Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati in Allahabad. And my grandfather used to float in lakes near his house in Mayavaram for hours - sending my father (when he was little) into panic.
It was not for a lack of tutors either - my good friends and dad have thrown me into nearby wells numerous times (I thus made many trips to the gates of heaven thereby making me 'well' travelled I suppose), have taken me to overflowing lakes during the peak of monsoon to catch 'gwara' fish and have taught me at all the swimming pools in Madras. To no avail. I sometimes think they did all this for their own amusement. When I reach ashore, I always catch them laughing and there is always a comedian who will animatedly repeat my swimming actions to further laughter. I labored but refused to learn. Finally, I enrolled in a swimming class at urbana. No progress. They all think I am inept. I differ.
I cannot learn to swim...
1. ... in wells infested with snakes.
2. ...while thrown inside water with both hands held (once it was both legs. in either case, the parties involved later explained it was for my safety. but why laugh while saying that?)
3. ...when water gushes out of the lake so furiously that nearby houses were avacuated (AND the lake was rumoured to be home to alligators)
4. ...when I feel shy in swimming pools and there are desi girls with swimsuits around (I have changed since!)
5. ...when the pretty american blonde instructor holds me by the stomach and asks me to swim (I have not gotten out of that one yet!)
After years of aquaphobia (no, not hydrophobia) , a strange thing happened... Water caught my fascination... Diving became a passion... It is perhaps a manifestation of the stockholm syndrome - we fall in love with our conqueror... And...
... to be continued
It was not for a lack of tutors either - my good friends and dad have thrown me into nearby wells numerous times (I thus made many trips to the gates of heaven thereby making me 'well' travelled I suppose), have taken me to overflowing lakes during the peak of monsoon to catch 'gwara' fish and have taught me at all the swimming pools in Madras. To no avail. I sometimes think they did all this for their own amusement. When I reach ashore, I always catch them laughing and there is always a comedian who will animatedly repeat my swimming actions to further laughter. I labored but refused to learn. Finally, I enrolled in a swimming class at urbana. No progress. They all think I am inept. I differ.
I cannot learn to swim...
1. ... in wells infested with snakes.
2. ...while thrown inside water with both hands held (once it was both legs. in either case, the parties involved later explained it was for my safety. but why laugh while saying that?)
3. ...when water gushes out of the lake so furiously that nearby houses were avacuated (AND the lake was rumoured to be home to alligators)
4. ...when I feel shy in swimming pools and there are desi girls with swimsuits around (I have changed since!)
5. ...when the pretty american blonde instructor holds me by the stomach and asks me to swim (I have not gotten out of that one yet!)
After years of aquaphobia (no, not hydrophobia) , a strange thing happened... Water caught my fascination... Diving became a passion... It is perhaps a manifestation of the stockholm syndrome - we fall in love with our conqueror... And...
... to be continued
posted by littlecow at
9:47 PM
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