the drowning man

30 March 2007

“The best in our natures is drowning in the worst.” - Salman Rushdie

In clutching the drowning man, I have drowned myself too.

I have swallowed heaps of salty water - tasted its saline taste and declared it sweet; felt it course my parched throat and claimed it quenched my thirst; held on to the drowning man and deemed each momentary surge to the surface of the sea as sufficient gasps for air, blips of life I blindingly saw as LIFE as it should be.

I guess there really was intent to save me, with as much strength and willpower as anyone would do for love. But a man saves himself first before saving any other damsel – especially at sea when our own natures dictate us to cling to things as we flail and thrash about, dragging the people we care about to our own sinking spaces. We felt the hunger of the seas sucking us in and we buoyed each other up - but only by pushing the other back down into the depths. It was a tragic affair.

Whether I drank too much of the sea to be permanently nauseous, I would never know till later. But for now, I am relieved, utterly so, that I have narrowly escaped its harrowing tempers. I am in solid ground, at last, and I shall walk my way back to inner land – from the sandy shores of the tempting beach, through the bustling, treacherous roads, to home. I shall go back home.

I shall summon courage to visit the seas once again, not now but soon. I would be wise enough to swim in its shallower parts and put on a life vest when I venture out to its deepest waters. I will learn to calmly ride the waves, not fight them nor fear them. I may see a drowning man or two and I may be lured with glorious promises of rescue but I shall remain far away from them. I have drowned once and gruellingly broke myself free – it is enough experience for me.