The Swim

It was as if he hadn’t even existed before this moment. All that he had with him, all that was his was the present.

And by the looks of it, what he had wasn’t great.

There was a great noise in his ears. That, coupled with the fact that he had almost no control over his limbs. He was wildly flaying his hands and legs around…without much success. He opened his mouth to shout, but all that escaped were some helpless air bubbles.

‘God! Where am I?’

With great effort, he pushed his hands upwards. His fingers felt something hitting hard against them and he grabbed on to the object and pulled himself up.

The world around him was dark. And he was in the middle of a roaring, rampaging river.

‘How did I ever get here?’ And then, the more practical answer came to him, ‘Does it even matter?’

He realised that sick unknown feeling earlier was that of drowning. But how could that be possible? He was an excellent swimmer. Perhaps, life had brought him to a river whose current was much stronger than his limbs.

Clinging on to the branch that he had luckily grasped upon, he looked to his right. Horrified, he realised that he was on the edge of a mighty waterfall. That was where the loud noise was originating from. He could hear the scary, deafening noise of the water crashing below.

He calculated his options. He could either swim against the tide and almost certainly be swept to his ultimate death. Or else, he could take the easier route out and take a final plunge towards the edge and jump to his own death.

The decision was almost taken. The suicide would be sweet, the end of a life which had left him nothing but scars and heart-ache. It was almost a simple thing to do.

But then, he looked to the other side. All that he could discern in the great darkness was the calm, but strong currents pushing him in the opposite direction. It would be one helluva effort to swim against this tide.

He smiled.

‘But then,’ he told himself, ‘when have I ever taken the easier way out?’

He looked toward the edge one final time. ‘Sorry, but the end must wait. There are a few battles I am yet to fight.’

And with that, he started kicking and swimming against the tide. What initially looked like an impossibility was now becoming the truth; little by little, he was making progress against the tide.

This would be a long swim back. But then again, he hadn’t ever enjoyed taking the easier way out.

The Red Rose

He took out the blade from its white paper-cover and stared at it for a few seconds. The light from the fluorescent tubelight overhead reflected on the steel edge of the blade.

He whispered to himself, "No turning back...".

Slowly and deftly, he cut the words on his left forearm.

"लाल गुलाब"

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