When hydrophobics go snorkelling

I suffer from hydrophobia. Don’t know how to swim and have never been into water. The few times I've been near the sea, I’ve shown it immense respect. I appreciate the waves, the colours and the sheer expanse of water from a healthy distance. At most I've gingerly put my feet into crashing waves and felt the ripples. I've felt its raw power, more from a boat rolling on its surface. But in my heart of hearts I’ve always wished to overcome this fear. I've marvelled at swimmers and divers. If other people can do it why can’t you, my inner voice often mocked me.
It was this self doubt that pushed me into attempting snorkelling in Havelock Island in the Andamans last winter. Egged on by the kids and friends who are pros at the sport, I mustered enough courage to enrol for a snorkelling session one morning. We were introduced to our coach Kaustuv- a tanned Mumbaikar with a fake accent. Can you swim? he asked.
No.
Dont worry. Can you float?
No.
He paused and gave me a look.
Have you been in water before?
Never, I said. I swear he murmured something unprintable.
My heart sank.
He then took us to the supply corner at his beach gear shop and gave us life jackets, flippers, masks and tubes with mouth pieces that looked like plastic dentures. I could sense a sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach but I didn’t show it.
The sea's very choppy today- bad weather- declared the shop owner. Nine of us (all tourists) were piled on to a boat with Kaustuv and another rickety teenager as our guides and the boatman started the motor as we set out to the sea. Within minutes spray from the ocean drenched us from head to toe. The salty water stung my eyes and the spray chilled me to the bone. The howling wind prevented anyone from being heard. I looked around to see the others calmly sitting and looking out into the distance. Feeling foolish I decided to do the same.
After about ten minutes Kaustuv declared the sea was too rough to venture to the point where we were heading. I felt vindicated. We turned back and headed for a nearer island this time. The sea was calmer on this route because the spray disappeared and the boat didn’t roll as much as before. As the water dried from my clothes I noticed the specks of salt it had left behind. Well, I had something to show for my bravery!
We neared one of the many islands and moored the boat. Everyone hopped out and i followed like a copy cat and almost sprained my foot because i miscalculated the depth of the water and landed on a rock. Four tourists amongst us were apparently seasoned divers and they disappeared within minutes of landing ashore. ‘Be back in two hours!’ yelled Kaustuv. Two hours? I began to taste fear in my mouth. I was rocking in the waves, standing waist down in water, barely holding on thanks to the float.
Kaustuv rounded the remaining five of us- a young Australian couple and the kids and me. He fixed our goggles and my nose was clipped off. The bit went into the mouth and then he held our hands and took us further into the water. I felt like i was being lead into a watery grave. Every time a wave hit me i almost overturned. The sea was like a massive quick sand. If you have hydrophobia your biggest fear is dipping your head in water. Try teaching a smart alecky ‘trainer’ that! He held both my hands and said- follow me. Then he went face down into the water. To be honest, i tried. I brought my head to the surface and went in six inches. It was like looking into an aquarium. Light was diffused as if i was looking through a glass wall. Schools of fishes were darting about. But it was the sudden silence that upset me. I panicked and shot up. To be fair to Kaustuv, he tried again. And again. But i only managed to stay a few seconds each time. And the third time i only heard the sound of my heart beat and the blood rushing through my ears. By this time the others were getting impatient. I decided to save them the misery. I knew i couldn’t go through with it. They say it is wise to choose your moment of retreat.
You guys go ahead. I’ll wade around here, I told the kids and told Kaustuv to attend to them. Within minutes the others left as if they couldn’t get away fast enough. I saw their bobbing heads disappear down the bend and suddenly i found myself alone with a rough sea, an empty boat and a vast endless sky.
I sat on a rock and the thought struck me that I looked quite comical. The orange lifebuoy was around my waist; the snorkelling equipment had been pushed to the top of my head; shorts and tee had been soaked to the skin. Not that it mattered. But what the hell would i do for two hours?
Dont laugh. I managed to keep myself pleasantly occupied. I poured my heart out to the sea. I raved, i ranted, i laughed. I recited poems and sang songs to the fishes that nibbled my feet. The waves took my secret in their bosom and swept it away. I suppose it felt like being in a confession box. I was quite thrilled. The failure at snorkelling was almost forgotten. The embarrassment gone. Almost.
Then i heard a shout from behind and jumped out of my skin.
‘Boat mein baith jayiye. Kinare mein saanp aa sakte hain.’
It was the boatman. He’d been sitting behind a rock all this while...

Reasons why people should never go on holidays...

I'm back from a family holiday in the Andaman Islands. And like all middle class Indians I'm trying to prepare a balance sheet of net losses and gains. And I'm really shocked to discover that what I thought were gains are actually devastating losses...

a. The packing. What to take and what to leave behind. I can never get this right. If it's going to be a warm place should I only take noodle strap tees or should I throw in some shirts for that evening chill? Should I pack only casuals or should I be prepared for some formal outing, maybe a special occasion dress for an evening out?? The stress is enough to kill me and usually I spend days thinking about it and keep changing my mind till the last minute. Inevitably I always pack the wrong things. This time I packed in skirts instead of shorts and a pouch full of accessories like danglers and high heeled shoes. Hence a considerable amount of time was spent keeping my skirt down against the wind and I can say with guarantee the deer and monkeys in the backwaters were terribly impressed with my choice of jewellery...

b. The effect on health. Ten days of no gymming combined with gastronomical splurging doesn't come without a price. End result: The bulge is showing at all the wrong places. Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels...Wish I had thought of this golden maxim while ordering exotic dishes exploding with calories.

c. The snapshots. You go to a place. You want to capture its beauty and treasure the wonderful moments for posterity. Fine. But how can you do it if you lug around a heavy camera/ video recorder/ phone and constantly think of angles that would look good on your profile? And after you've looked at the sunset through a lens and posed around for a hundred pictures you sit and pour over them, ruthlessly deleting the ones which show your unflattering wrinkles or catch your double chin. Is this the memory that I want to preserve? Who am I trying to fool? And the sunset is really hazy because all I can remember is fiddling with the camera!

d. The insecurity. While you are on holiday and traveling there is always a fear of losing your identity papers, misplacing your wallet, getting robbed, losing your luggage, missing flights and trains, getting stranded in unknown places, getting bitten by insects and dogs, getting drunk and sometimes even forgetting your manners. I forgot to tip a very nice waiter. How idiotic is that?

e. The aftermath. In the end it all comes down to the net result. What did I get out of it? Frankly, things are not adding up as they should. I'm back after having spent a fortune, picked up a patchy tan (thanks to the sunscreen I misplaced midway), caught a cold on the flight home from a sniffling co passenger with very bad oral hygiene and the not so happy prospect of spending the next two days unpacking, washing and uploading pictures that nobody is really interested in. Other people's memories are boring they say...

I think the balance sheet definitely is a negative one. You take a call if I am right or wrong.

Eating out!

Having grown up in a Bengali middle class household with parents who believed in the bountiful goodness of a mach-bhat (fish-rice) meal, eating out was an evil word in our house. Meal in a restaurant? My mother would screw up her face in a look that said a thousand abominable words. Why eat out when you can relax and enjoy a meal at home? They are for people who cant cook, who like spicy, oily food, blah blah, blah. You'll get acidity, diarrhoea... she would launch into the not so sonorous gastric ailments.
And that was that. So I never discovered the pleasures of eating out until I was working and old enough to sneak out and pay for the outing. But the childhood inhibitions were always there at the back of my mind and I was cautious experimenting. South Indian, Chinese, Punjabi cuisine was as far as I ventured. Then, when I went abroad I gingerly explored the Mexican, Thai and the general European cuisine but most of it was restricted to fast food joints. I rarely went to eat at restaurants abroad because a) I am always cash strapped and b) I'm allergic to sea food and am scared to order something that might contain them. There's also a third reason. I hate to be surprised and really don't want to experiment too much. I've burnt my fingers (or tongue) doing that. My first meal at a Japanese restaurant in Delhi was a disaster. I thought the sushi looked like chopped up raw snake and the sake- warm water at a doll's tea party because it was served in little cups. My brother, who had generously treated us, was disgusted at my lack of 'sophistication'.

But my lack of experience in eating out has a way of surfacing when I'm on holiday that doesn't augur well for my family. At the Palace Hotel in Chail in Himachal PRadesh I ordered Au Gratin and Mediterranean baked salad when everybody around us were digging into butter chicken and nan after a long day of sightseeing. Folks wiped their mouths, burped and left the dining hall by the time our dish arrived. We had to eat with the sound of banging pots and waiters folding up tables and chairs! Another time at Fatehpur Sikhri we were staying at the ASI guest house. The chef came to our room to ask what we wanted for our evening meal. 'What can we get?' I asked. 'Anything.' he said. 'Indian, Mughlai, Chinese'. I was still unaware of how misleading that phrase can be. I got taken in by his words. 'Chinese?' I said. The kids loved Sweet and Sour chicken so I told him to make that along with Hakka noodles and manchurian soup. The chef wrote it down dutifully and disappeared. 'I'll call you when the food is ready,' he said.
We were strolling in the gardens when I spied the chef leaving in a bicycle around eight in the evening. I began to get a bad feeling when no call for dinner came even by ten. Hungry and disgusted with two wailing children, we decided to go to the dining hall to catch the bull by its horns. Other families were on their dessert and there was no sign of our chef. We parked ourselves at a table and called the staff to register our complaint. After many words the chef showed up, his hair at ends and a glazed look in his eyes. 'Your food is ready sir,' he apologised and served our dishes. The food wasn't bad but the soup and the sauce had definitely come from a tin. 'Itna der kar diya?' I charged the chef.
'Special khana banane mein time to lagta hai madam.' he replied.
'Par maine apko 8 baje kahin jate dekha' I wasnt going to let him get away.
'Ji haan. Main to apka khana banane ke liye samaan lane gaya tha!'

Orlando magic

All you hardly working people out there- I am holidaying in the land of orlando magic! Yes. Eat your heart out for I will be here for three weeks dipping my feet in the backyard pool (since i cant swim), soaking in the scenic beauty of the florida countryside (since i cant drive) and laughing my head off (i have the whole 10 seasons of 'Friends' in DVD! Ok. It's not as bad as it sounds. America has always given me food for thought. I love to explore the peculiarities of the American life and peep behind the facade of modernity and sophistication. So you'll have some intriguing notes from me in the next few weeks. Right now i'm trying to convince myself and everybody around me that I have outgrown the 'mall attraction' and the materialism that it represents.
Dont snigger.