We are all natural born swimmers. Swishing through Amniotic fluid, swinging on the umbilical cord but tethered safely to the placenta.

So why is it that we still need to learn swimming? Maybe not; all we need to learn is to un-learn the fear of drowning.

Swimming, for me, meant a whole lot of Eureka moments:

1. Don’t worry, nobody is looking: Swimsuit phobia peters away before water-phobia. And besides, everybody is in their own world of laps-bubbling-stamina-ear shaking. You look great. Now jump in.

2. Don’t you dare push me in! : The day I couldn’t jump in; the day I discovered that fear can be paralyzing. My toes curled onto the parapet in silent imploration. I was fine in the present on terra firma. I did not mind the sure future when I would be already in the water. All I feared was the transition.

I think we fear the transition phase of anything more than the actual change. (Much like when I love Saturday night and tolerate Monday morn; but I detest Sunday evenings) . P.S: I finally did not jump. Not on my own. I literally needed a push in the right direction at the right time.

3. Chemistry in H20! : Before I learnt the art (or science) of swimming, tension escalated as I neared the swimming pool; where I got acute attacks of flight-or-fight (adrenaline spurts); where I searched for the flimsiest excuse to bunk class. Once I crossed the hurdle, the swimming pool became the place where tension melted (serotonin spurts), where the ripple of poolwater became an oasis of peace.

4. Hurrah! Its a (relatively) safe world. A bevy of instructors keeping vigil. Ready, trained and employed for my survival, if I struggle.

Contrast with the outside world: If I have a road accident, what is my chance of survival? Most onlookers will look the other way; others will grab the opportunity to whisk away my credit card, mobile and purse while I lie bleeding.

5. Etiquettes: When 2 people come face-to-face in the same pool lane; we were actually taught to slow down and give way. Now imagine a driving school teaching that; instead of the ‘Might is Right’ swagger on-road!

6. Keep your mouth shut: If you open your mouth at the wrong moment (as in Life on terra firma), you will invariably tumble into deep waters. Along with a mouthful of salt-water. (Don’t ask for the source of salty water in a swimming pool. Water, water everywhere; and not a drop worth drinking.)

7. No comparisons, please! : There will be the Pisceans who will glide away on day 1 and there will be Now-this-is-why-I-was-not-born-a-fish who splutter and gasp beyond day 21. Somewhere in between lie you; snug within the two-standard deviation of Gaussian curve.

8. It’s a beautiful world: Duck down underwater; especially at twilight, when the pool lights flood in and then look skyward. It seems like a blessing. Ditto for when you float lazily and it drizzles gently on your upturned face.

9. I earned that cupcake: 

You sweated, your calories evaporated and you still never noticed! Never have I felt as ravenously hungry and as well-toned as post a swim.

My Wishlist:  I wish someone invents a] earphones that work underwater- that would be having the best of both worlds. b] Goggles that don’t film over; or leave baggy pouches under your eyes. d] Swimsuits with zips. Wet suits simply refuse to budge off the body. e] SPF sunscreen that actually prevents tanning. No matter what you do, you will have a spectacular zebra crossing over you.

What are your views on WaterWorld?