Esquire (Singapore) - - Front Page -

in sight. The wind picks up, with dark clouds hov­er­ing in the dis­tance and a lone fruit bat jour­ney­ing be­tween the is­lands ev­ery now and then. Con­sider surfers’ par­adise found.

I feel the waves swoop in from be­hind, buoy­ing my board. I can do this—all I have to do when the wave hits is to stand up, main­tain my balance and ride it to the shore. Mind over mat­ter, right? Wrong. The spirit was will­ing but my body was weak. In the split sec­ond of hes­i­tat­ing to stand up on the board, I hur­tle for­ward. Time turns to trea­cle as Westlife’s ‘Fly­ing With­out Wings’ plays in the back­ground. I flip head first into the sea. Salt­wa­ter gushes up my nose. I tum­ble in cir­cles. I got worked, big time. It takes a while for me to gather my bear­ings, and thank­fully, coral cuts don’t mar my face. No guts, no cuts and def­i­nitely no glory in this sce­nario. un­event­ful day on land, and yet, here I am, pad­dling for my life.

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