The Day I Swam With A Whale Shark

If there were underwater CCTV cameras for the fish, this would be viral content in the aquatic world, and they would probably be having a hearty laugh at my plight.

For the longest time, the idea of diving lingered quietly at the back of my mind, resurfacing every now and then. But it came rushing back most recently during my trip to the Philippines.

In my experience, the most meaningful journeys are often the ones we don't obsessively plan. What is left is to just surrender yourself completely to an experience.

This diving experience, I realised, was exactly that. After years of putting it off, I finally decided to take the plunge and experience my very first dive.

Oslob, which is located on the southeastern coast of Cebu Island, is famous for its whale sharks spotting -- docile fellows that do not harm humans in spite of their name and size. Naturally the place was packed. There was a long queue of people waiting to get on a bangka (the traditional Filipino boat), all eager to see these giant creatures.

The activity typically starts in the wee hours of the day as you queue up to get your ticket and boat number. As the sun rises, boats begin ferrying visitors out to sea. Most people stay near the surface, peering into the water through their snorkelling gear for a quick glimpse. It looked simple enough.

I had decided to take things a step further and go scuba diving.

The activity usually takes you about 15 to 20 metres beneath the surface, accompanied by a dive master who guides you through the underwater adventure.

At that moment, it felt like a bold and adventurous decision. Five minutes later, squeezed into a wetsuit and trying to walk like a normal human under the weight of an oxygen tank, I was quietly questioning every decision that led me there.

After a quick briefing that I probably only half understood because I was kinda nervous, I got into the water. And this is where things went downhill.

The second I tried breathing through the regulator, my brain said, 'No, we don't do this!' I fumbled immediately. I breathed too fast, swallowed some salty water, and started flailing slightly.

The thing is, no matter how calm you are at first, the idea of breathing underwater does make you feel a little anxious.

To anyone who has never worn a diving suit and its accompanying paraphernalia, let me tell you: Underwater, you suddenly become very aware of every single breath. The steady mechanical sound of air moving through the regulator feels strange at first, almost oddly loud in your head. And even the fins (oh, the fins!) can feel a bit ticklish until you get used to them.

The trick is to take control, steady yourself, and just stay calm. Once you get hold of these things, diving can have an incredibly calming effect.

That's when I truly understood the depth of the dialogue in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, where Katrina Kaif's diving instructor dismisses the idea of scuba diving being a mere addiction and instead calls it meditation.

Now, I won't say I reached that exact meditative state, but my God, it felt unbelievably serene. Though, the journey to that feeling did come with a few rough moments.

The dive master, thankfully much calmer than me, held my arm and signalled me to relax. I tried again. Slow breath in. Slow breath out. Repeat.

I am quite sure that if there were underwater CCTV cameras for the fish, this would be viral content in the aquatic world, and they would probably be having a hearty laugh at my plight. Or maybe showing me sympathy.

After a few awkward attempts, I stopped behaving like a malfunctioning robot and started breathing normally.

Then we began descending.

As I went deeper, everything changed. The noise disappeared. The chaos in my head reduced. All I could hear was my breathing, which now sounded steady instead of dramatic.

I could see the ocean bed, the endless deep blue surrounding me, and vividly coloured fish snooping in and out of colourful corals. With every movement of my legs (with fins on, what fun!), it felt like floating weightlessly in another world.

It was like being inside a massive aquarium, and except there was no glass separating me from the life around me.

And then my instructor softly pointed it out... And I saw it! The gentle giant.

I was not seeing it from the surface like the people in the boats above, but from below. The entire body of a whale shark was right there in front of me. Huge, slow and completely unbothered by my earlier struggle for survival.

It was massive. Like, 'this is definitely bigger than my problems' massive. It moved gently, with those white spots across its body looking almost too perfect to be real.

Seeing it underwater felt very different. From above, you get just a quick glance. From below, you understand its size, its movement, and how calm, and majestic it is.

My instructor's earlier words came back to me. These creatures are massive, yet calm and not uncomfortable with humans, which is why they are called 'gentle giants.'

As delicate and special as they are, visitors are advised not to touch or nudge them and to maintain a safe distance.

I was just floating, looking around, and actually enjoying the moment. It was a brief encounter, but one I know I will remember for a lifetime.

WATCH: The gentle giant and a tiny human!

As we moved along, I started noticing more things. Small, colourful fish zipped past me. A few hovered nearby, probably still judging my earlier performance?

Then I saw a sea turtle. Unlike me, it knew exactly what it was doing. It moved slowly, smoothly. Watching it was oddly comforting. No panic. No overthinking. Just calm movement.

Below us, 'the coral garden', as they call it, was swaying gently to the rhythm of the sea. These corals were not as bright as I had imagined, but they had their own beauty.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, I realised something important.

I was no longer scared.

At the beginning, I was tense, overthinking every breath, and half ready to quit. But now, the same water that scared me a few minutes ago felt serene.

After an hour or so, when we finally came back up, and I looked at the long queue again. People were still waiting for their turn, excited to catch a glimpse of the whale sharks from above.

And I thought to myself, 'They have no idea...'

They will see something amazing, no doubt. But I got to see it from below, in a full cinematic view, after nearly embarrassing myself in front of an entire underwater audience. Fair enough, I say. At least I stayed committed to the experience.

And just like that, the ocean became less of a place I visited and more of a feeling I know I will keep returning to.

Mountains or beaches? Ask me now, and I won’t choose. I will just say both.