Few meters ahead, may be

At that time, I thought of learning swimming as a training to curb fears. My legs were hanging loose when I used to see the earth I am standing on. I shivered. The elder ladies poured water on my shoulder. Is any thing worth this feeling of imprisonment? We were born free, I contemplated the coach standing by the pool. One meter far was all I could go after one month training.

In the other pool, I missed my old pals. It was a quiet place; sometimes I heard the piano from the nearby gymnastics room. I cherished those old days when I jumped into the deep pool. In a queue we stood at the rim, someone used to push my shoulder. Here I was at my own pace. Eventually, I learnt the breaststrokes. I flew to Turkey one summer, hoping that when I return I can get more into the pool. I guess I never had more.

I always stood by the deep pool, though, contemplating the sparkling water. If only this girl could back and push me into the pool? I used to walk, head down, to the stairs. I kept moving till the water touched my breast, it was there that I started to have breaststrokes till the end of the line.

Now I stand by the pool, sensing the water with one foot, the music plays and in my mind, I see a plane crossing the Atlantic, and a girl resembling me, few meters ahead into the deep pool, may be.