The air in the wee hours of the day was exceptionally normal. The faint blue skies, the shimmer glow of the morning sun, the breeze from the oceans, the height of the waves, everything was at a good condition for a surf. I waddled to the beach, still clearing away from my sleep, hand-carrying my white trusty surfboard for a morning routine.
I did some stretches, breathed in the salty air, paddled my way on my surfboard to further into the ocean. My heart sprang with an enigmatic thump, it was the usual excited heart, nothing really significant.
Tested the waters, eyeing out for some surf-able waves, prepped myself for one that was coming in a few seconds. Hup. The wave swept across me, I jumped unto it with ease, letting my body move on its own accord, feeling the sea breeze brushing through me, crystallising the droplets of ocean into resplendent bits scattered on me.
Gaining control of my balance, I was able to ride my first wave of the day, a small applaud went out in me. After a few warm-ups, I decided to catch larger waves, as a training, a bet with the devil.
I got to a considerable distance, where I put my life at stake. As I swam further, the wind billowed like never before as if it was roaring into life, the current of the ocean became more erratic and vicious, a premonition struck me- it is the huge wave.
Shit… This is nothing that I can ride… I would drown for sure. That negative thought set me into panic mode. No, rather I was choking, literally and figuratively. Water was surging into my lungs as my mind raced a thousand miles per second to conjure millions of possible outcomes, none of them were good.
My mind went helter-skelter, I was overthinking, I was petrified in fear- my instinct. The fundamentals, the techniques that I had acquired through the years was swept away by the millions of thoughts. The actual wave was approaching, I was shuddering, shaking. Preparing to embrace death prematurely as my mind was in a loss of instinct.
Ride the waves. Don’t be afraid. Let the tides lead you back.