BHPian Hunter3077 recently shared this with other enthusiasts: It was June 2006. I had just finished my 2nd term at IMA – that beautiful stage of life where you feel bulletproof, immortal, and just the right amount of stupid. Term break had arrived, and we were off to Vijayawada for Pramod’s elder brother’s wedding, which for us was less “wedding” and more “course reunion with free food.” A day before the wedding, around twenty of us trooped off to a riverside property for some volleyball. After half an hour of pretending to be the Indian volleyball team (and failing spectacularly), someone suggested a swim in the Krishna River. In hindsight, this was the moment we should have stopped, reflected, and chosen life. Instead, all twenty of us said, “Haan chalo!” Now, let me clarify my swimming abilities. I was a solid breast-strokist, could do a hundred metres without drama… but I could not float. At all. Zero buoyancy. If you threw a stone and threw me, the stone had slightly better odds. My coursemate Ramendra was already 100 metres inside the river, floating like he was on a luxury waterbed. I shouted out, “Bhai, if I reach you, hold me. I can’t float!” He said yes. This will go down as one of the biggest mistakes of his life. I swam to him. The moment I reached, he started giving me floating lessons – mid-river, mid-danger, mid-idiocy. In the confusion, I started sinking. Naturally, I grabbed his shoulder. Naturally, I began dragging him down too. Suddenly the two of us were going underwater like synchronized swimmers with no skills. The spectators on the bank were laughing. Because of course, why wouldn’t they? To them it looked like we were just messing around. Then Ajay – champion swimmer, solid guy – jumped in. And he tried something revolutionary: he kept going underwater and pushing me up from below, like a hydraulic jack. Lovely in theory, terrible in practicality. Within moments, he too started going under. Now we were three drowning men with the combined intelligence of a potato. Seeing this tragic comedy, Sailesh and Santosh jumped in. Both were good swimmers – but not trained in rescuing panicking idiots. Within thirty seconds, all five of us were drowning in perfect harmony. And in that moment I knew – If things got worse, the other four would somehow scramble to survival. I would be the one left behind. And I felt a calmness that only comes when you realise, “Bas. Aaj hi din hai.” My life reel began. School days. NDA drills. IMA memories. And right at the front and centre – my fiance Ramya, in full emotional slow motion. I was convinced this was it. On the shore, the audience had stopped laughing and started panicking. Finally. Then, like two guardians descending from the heavens (or, more accurately, from dry land), Harsha and Chaitanya jumped in. They signaled the others to go back and took control. Harsha grabbed my swimming trunk from the front (not the most dignified rescue, but beggars drowning cannot be choosers) and Chaitanya started pushing from behind. Slowly, we covered some distance. My body, which had been absolutely vertical till then, finally tilted and became horizontal. This single detail probably saved my life. And suddenly, out of nowhere, my NDA swimming training hit me like divine enlightenment. I put my head down and started freestyle. No breathing breaks. No looking up. Just pure animal survival and stubborn refusal to die. I swam until I realised I could stand. I had reached the shore. There was dead silence. A few guys were vomiting water. Everyone had that pale, shaken look you get when you realise life just gave you a warning slap. We all understood in that moment: A huge tragedy had been averted. And that day taught us one unforgettable truth: A river is not a swimming pool. It does not care about your breaststroke, your ego, or your term break. Today, twenty years later, this story pops up at reunions – each version more dramatic, more exaggerated, and more shameless – and we laugh like idiots. But back then? Nothing funny. Not even slightly. The Krishna River had almost claimed three future officers and two future US corporate honchos – all because of a dip we absolutely didn’t need to take. Check outBHPian commentsfor more insights and information.
Source link
Story time: The day Krishna River almost took me (and 4 other fools)
