The Thundering Sound of Silence

I am afraid... I always was, of heights - acrophobia, logophiles would correct. Its just around 4 mts high, but still its scary. The sky is faintly lighted with a few scattered rays stolen from the morning sun which has decided not to show up so early. The water below is deep blue, like clear shining crystals, in the floodlights flanking the swimming pool. The spring-board feels cold on the naked feet, the light morning breeze colder on the scarcely covered body. I try to move to the edge, prompted by the trainer; taking as small steps as possible, as if, vainly trying to stop the board from shaking. It doesn't stop, keeps on with its minute up-and-down. It must've been just a few inches of movement, but it aggravates the fear.

I look down, and a chill runs down the spine. Instructions come to look straight to the front. The huge sign-board on the other end of the pool with the name of the club in bold capitals gleams proudly, defying me, mocking me, standing erect braving the cold and warding off all materialistic fears that we living creatures have been doomed with.

A voice beats my ear-drums - "Jump!!" I look down once again, as if vainly trying to recollect myself, to try hard one last time and convince myself that its just water below. The voice repeats - "Jump!!!" My brain stops, all body functions too. All I can feel is silence. First, the roaring air, then the thundering water. Both completely silent. There is a tickling somewhere inside, though; and somewhere it feels good. A free fall, of however small duration, the feeling of liberty, the feeling of being free. The air doesn't block my way, nor does the water, nor my own brain and thought processes, nor the fears - nothing in this world. Its the joy of freedom I feel...