I came, I saw, I was almost drowned!
It was a fascinating trip to Murud. My wife’s longstanding illness had prevented us from taking up the weekend offers that kept coming from my friends week after week. The trip that we ultimately made was a welcome relief for both of us. For her it was a change of atmosphere. For me, a change of spirits! But, before you put away reading this post as a travel journal, please be informed that I have no intention of writing one. Travelogues impart readers with information about places and, to some extent, also communicate the vibes that fill them. The traveller gathers it all while exploring not only the chief spectacles a place has to offer, but also its nooks and crannies. I went to Murud without making any efforts at visiting Janjeera fort, the landmark that gives credence to why one chooses Murud among the scores of beaches that lie on the western coast. Surprisingly, the other seven travellers, my wife included, showed an equally inadequate inclination to see the fort. Bad, isn't it?
The only consolation given me was that I was on a vacation by the seaside with family and friends. Vast bodies of water evoke a strange fear in me. Many years ago, on biennial visits to our relatives in Delhi, we used to cross river Chambal on the train from Hyderabad to Delhi. The sight of the rippling water body seemed like so many salivating tongues eager to swallow a prey. I am no swimmer either. Those that can read the bulletin of my life in the horoscope predict that I would meet death by drowning. Along with it, they also add that it’s going to be cold waters due north. We were driving westward during the summer season. So, I was safe.
Secure in this rationalization, I chose to go for the banana ride. The word banana tricks you into believing that it’s going to be an absolute joy ride over the surface of the sea. The banana is made up of rubber. A rubber strap, a foot in length, is fastened to the inflated banana. You straddle over the banana holding it. The banana tugs along by the force of the motor boat.
Three of us volunteered and we thought we were fortunate that it was just three of us riding the 7-seater banana. Without my spectacles, I could barely look beyond a few feet into the sea. What I could not cherish with my vision, I celebrated through my shrieks. All the three of us shouted at the driver on the motorboat, “Tej, aur tej. Tej aur tej.” It was thrilling when we dashed against the waves and pierced through them. “Tej bhayya, aur tej,” we were shouting at the top of our voice. It seemed like our requests fell on deaf ears. The guy has been at work since the crowd gathered on the beach. He was used to the clamour and the ‘hush’ that follows from the riders. But, in our case, I thought, he would be corrected as we were still holding fast to our positions on the banana. As if he heard me, the driver starting navigating a turn. My thoughts then: “He is trying in vain to topple us.... Rs. 150 went down the drain....I am going ask for a complimentary ride....”
“Bhayya tej, aur te..........” The banana overturned….………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… …………………………………………..It took me so much time to realise what had come to pass. The thoughts that occurred to me then were not thought; they were shrill cries emanating from deep within. The first thing I could sense in the saline water was danger. I didn’t exist then. Something that found itself in danger responded to the moment. In retrospect, it felt like being on the boundary of existence and being pushed out of it.
Then, maybe the idea that I was wearing a life jacket was injected into me. Next, I sensed hope. Between the perception of danger and hope, I think, I was once thrown on the surface. But, without spectacles, it hardly made any difference to me except that I regained my ability to breathe and the howling sound at my ears stopped for a while. I could scarcely fill my lungs when I went down again. There was nothing thrilling about it.
When I rose up the second-time, I could see only one friend giving me company. Down again I went….Up. I saw a boat tugging along and a guy stretching his hand out to the other friend who now heaved into sight. Down…. I was making a vain effort to swim with the life-jacket on. I remained still and as expected was shown into air. My face, freshly contorted in horror, bore signs enough to give away my fears. Water had rushed into my ears and nostrils, and a good amount of it was lodged in my stomach.
My friends had mounted the banana. I was struggling to see myself on top. I squeezed the rubber, tried to get one leg on top, but slipped. I would have clawed the rubber like a cat but sense suggested to me that it was not a wise thing to do. The guy interpreted my struggle as fighting spirit. The idiot just wouldn’t help me. I was too tired for words. However, I got on the banana’s back on my own.
But, we were to suffer another shock of life on our way back. This time I put all my thought and energy on not losing the grip of the rubber strap. If the dive cannot be averted, I might at least ensure that it's made smooth. But, to no avail. The motor-boat took a steep turn and we went topsy-turvy. The grip came off as easily as the banana peel. Water can be such immense force! Thankfully, we were close to the beach and my feet could feel the ground.
The life-jackets were unfastened. I was a drooping figure of a bear on its hind legs; I did not even have the energy to wipe the saline slime trickling down my nose!
(1026 words)
The only consolation given me was that I was on a vacation by the seaside with family and friends. Vast bodies of water evoke a strange fear in me. Many years ago, on biennial visits to our relatives in Delhi, we used to cross river Chambal on the train from Hyderabad to Delhi. The sight of the rippling water body seemed like so many salivating tongues eager to swallow a prey. I am no swimmer either. Those that can read the bulletin of my life in the horoscope predict that I would meet death by drowning. Along with it, they also add that it’s going to be cold waters due north. We were driving westward during the summer season. So, I was safe.
Secure in this rationalization, I chose to go for the banana ride. The word banana tricks you into believing that it’s going to be an absolute joy ride over the surface of the sea. The banana is made up of rubber. A rubber strap, a foot in length, is fastened to the inflated banana. You straddle over the banana holding it. The banana tugs along by the force of the motor boat.
Three of us volunteered and we thought we were fortunate that it was just three of us riding the 7-seater banana. Without my spectacles, I could barely look beyond a few feet into the sea. What I could not cherish with my vision, I celebrated through my shrieks. All the three of us shouted at the driver on the motorboat, “Tej, aur tej. Tej aur tej.” It was thrilling when we dashed against the waves and pierced through them. “Tej bhayya, aur tej,” we were shouting at the top of our voice. It seemed like our requests fell on deaf ears. The guy has been at work since the crowd gathered on the beach. He was used to the clamour and the ‘hush’ that follows from the riders. But, in our case, I thought, he would be corrected as we were still holding fast to our positions on the banana. As if he heard me, the driver starting navigating a turn. My thoughts then: “He is trying in vain to topple us.... Rs. 150 went down the drain....I am going ask for a complimentary ride....”
“Bhayya tej, aur te..........” The banana overturned….………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… …………………………………………..It took me so much time to realise what had come to pass. The thoughts that occurred to me then were not thought; they were shrill cries emanating from deep within. The first thing I could sense in the saline water was danger. I didn’t exist then. Something that found itself in danger responded to the moment. In retrospect, it felt like being on the boundary of existence and being pushed out of it.
Then, maybe the idea that I was wearing a life jacket was injected into me. Next, I sensed hope. Between the perception of danger and hope, I think, I was once thrown on the surface. But, without spectacles, it hardly made any difference to me except that I regained my ability to breathe and the howling sound at my ears stopped for a while. I could scarcely fill my lungs when I went down again. There was nothing thrilling about it.
When I rose up the second-time, I could see only one friend giving me company. Down again I went….Up. I saw a boat tugging along and a guy stretching his hand out to the other friend who now heaved into sight. Down…. I was making a vain effort to swim with the life-jacket on. I remained still and as expected was shown into air. My face, freshly contorted in horror, bore signs enough to give away my fears. Water had rushed into my ears and nostrils, and a good amount of it was lodged in my stomach.
My friends had mounted the banana. I was struggling to see myself on top. I squeezed the rubber, tried to get one leg on top, but slipped. I would have clawed the rubber like a cat but sense suggested to me that it was not a wise thing to do. The guy interpreted my struggle as fighting spirit. The idiot just wouldn’t help me. I was too tired for words. However, I got on the banana’s back on my own.
But, we were to suffer another shock of life on our way back. This time I put all my thought and energy on not losing the grip of the rubber strap. If the dive cannot be averted, I might at least ensure that it's made smooth. But, to no avail. The motor-boat took a steep turn and we went topsy-turvy. The grip came off as easily as the banana peel. Water can be such immense force! Thankfully, we were close to the beach and my feet could feel the ground.
The life-jackets were unfastened. I was a drooping figure of a bear on its hind legs; I did not even have the energy to wipe the saline slime trickling down my nose!
(1026 words)
Comments
But reading this post, made me feel like I experienced it myself. One thing I hate about getting into water is that I have to take my spectacles off, and without that I feel none of my senses are working.
Good read as always, Amit!!
Banana ride you sketched is much thrilling. I couldn't stop reading, till I reach last line, saying you are reached safely on the shore.
Keep writing :)