“I will meet you soon, Mama!”

  • 15 Feb - 21 Feb, 2020
  • Ayesha Adil
  • Fiction

My forehead was covered in sweat when I opened my eyes. It was chillingly cold and yet I was covered in sweat. I had a dream. Mom and dad and all my sisters and brothers were there. We were all playing and fooling around and mom was yelling at us to pipe down. I never liked it when she shouted but I missed that voice now. I missed her terribly.

Everyone around me was beginning to stir. It was almost dawn, I think. But in this darkness, it was always night time. We only had just begun to take cues from nature trying to tell the time of day.

Coach had taught us to collect drinking water from the rains outside but had warned us to be extremely careful of slippery stones and curvatures in the rocks. He had begun his “survival lectures” as he called them in case something happened to him and he had assigned each of us a rank, a sort of next in line nomination.

I wiped away a tear and closed my eyes again. At least in sleep I found some release from the feelings of fear and impending doom which had begun to hover in the air quite thickly.

When I woke up fully alert and rested I could see that Coach had rounded up all the boys in a circle and he had begun the daily prayers and meditation ritual. I quickly joined them.

“Fear is a state of the mind. You only fear what you believe is something to be feared from. God destined us to be here and thus, we are here. This air that we are breathing is meant for us. God knows all things. Now close your eyes and pray. Ask Him for help and we will soon be reunited with our families.”

He closed his eyes and I could see him praying fervently. We all were. We all began to recite what verses we knew, what our parents had taught us.

After prayers we had to undergo breathing exercises. Coach said these were essential to our survival. They would help keep our energy levels up even though our bodies were beginning to become malnourished. The meditation would keep our spirits high and maintain our mental focus.

Our rations were quickly depleting. We had left our homes in the morning for a few hours of football practice followed by the exploration in the caves. The last meal we had several days ago was at a McDonald’s nearby the football grounds. By now we had consumed most of our juices and drinks and some of our supplies of chips and biscuits, chocolates and candies.

Coach had brought with him some sandwiches from home that he kept carefully in a cool and dry spot in the cave and he would distribute it to us in sections. By careful measurements of calories he would keep the leftover tidbits aside for another day. We didn’t know how long we would be here for. Food felt like a prize that we had earned. It would be a reward for our patience.

And what would happen after that the contents of that red box would be consumed? None of us were ready to think of what might happen after those were finished too.

The last day at home seemed like a distant memory now even though it was only about three days ago. That was a happy day. Who knew it was probably the last day we would meet our families. I missed my mom and dad. I missed them so much.

In the beginning, when the cave entrance got shut with torrential rains we were hopeful that the rains would stop. In the beginning, it was like a huge adventure. We were ecstatic and we were also enjoying the experience. But when the day began to die and the rain didn’t stop we knew that this was it. We were going to die in these caves and no one would know where we were. We had sent a few pictures through WhatsApp when we reached but then again we weren’t sure if those pictures actually went through and would anyone really find our location? And if emergency rescue had begun it would take days before anyone would find our exact location. We were deeply embedded in caves that weren’t visible from the shore and their entrance was now blocked by heavy monsoon rains. No one would even know we were inside. No one knew that we were even here.

Our cellphone signals were lost inside the caves and by now all our batteries were dead. We had no survival equipment. We had come into the caves for only a few minutes and we were planning to leave once our exploration was complete. If it hadn’t started to rain we would be inside our homes; warm and safe.

The irony of it seemed so sad and dramatic. If we weren’t the victims of the saga it was almost like a scene out of a movie. I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t in it.

Before Coach’s phone died, he had written apology letters to all our families asking for forgiveness in case we didn’t make it. He made sure to save them on the cellphone to be found some day, especially if he didn’t make it.

It was tragic seeing him like this. I now understood a grownup’s life after looking at it up close. How much pain and guilt is involved while bringing up a child. He was trying his best. And he kept his spirits high for our sakes. But he was human too and he missed his family as well. But his loyalty to us was intoxicating and he was a true teacher. It was unfair that this was happening to him at all or any of us for that matter.

It was time to eat. Coach handed us our meager shares and we all sat in a circle. He told us to take this time to talk about our plans when we would be reunited with our families. He wanted us to keep these discussions positive or at least as positive as we could manage. Some of us would begin to cry during these sessions but Coach said that this was fine as long as in our hearts we believed we would return home soon.

Chati moved away from the circle and he was sitting in the corner, crying silently. He was the youngest of the lot, only 11 years old. I didn’t know how to comfort him. My spirit was breaking and was ready to give-up soon.

As we entered day four, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ward off depression even with Coach’s encouragement and motivation. But in retrospect, I feel that it was his energy that kept us going and alive.

By day seven, we began to sleep for longer periods. Coach allowed it but only with short periods of wakefulness interspaced in between where he would force us to eat and drink something. I began to notice that he was rationing his share of food amongst us saying that he was alright with less.

If you die Coach, we all die. You are our teacher and you have to keep going for us. We all knew this so well but we didn’t have the courage to say it out loud. What teachers and parents do for us cannot be measured or expressed into words.

The minutes and hours kept ticking by.

If this was a learning experience for any of us, it was a huge one. We learnt about friendship and loyalty and also gratitude. Once something is taken away then only we really understand its value and most of the times it’s too late. That blessing is taken away never to come back. I fanatically wanted to return home because I now realised how perfect life was. The things that I felt ungrateful towards were actually my greatest blessings in life. The things that I took for granted were the priceless treasures that God had bestowed me. I f I died today I would die a sinner. A person who didn’t appreciate what life had to offer, in my opinion, is a sinner. A person who only saw the small picture and never the bigger picture in life was a fool. I didn’t want to die. I wanted us all to live because we could now really live life to its fullest. We were ready to appreciate what it had to offer, which was existence in itself. I wished I would be able to hug my family again and show them that I had changed.

We were discovered on day nine. Expert rescue divers had been called from all parts of the world to help rescue us from our imprisonment. I later learned that we owed the whole world for saving us.

It took another several days before we were all carefully taken out from the caves. During this period, emergency supplies of food and medicines were brought to us regularly. Heating apparatus were set up and we were made more comfortable. We were allowed to send short videos to our parents. Glimpses and images of us were televised all across the globe on news channels and shows. News coverage was more or less constant since the day we had gone missing. But we were found and it was only a matter of days now before we would be back home. We would all see our parents soon. The strategy to get us back to dry ground was extremely challenging and difficult. But once we were found our hearts and spirits were ready to take on any encounter. We recharged.

And Coach was alright. He was our savior. Our families did not pursue any legal action against him. Everyone forgave him. It wasn’t his fault. He was only human and the things he did to keep us alive overshadowed all else.

The whole world offered prayers of gratitude on our safe return. I hope that the whole world learnt a valuable lesson about life with our experience.

This story is dedicated to the 12 boys and their sports teacher who got lost and were found later in the Thailand caves in 2018. It is a tribute to their courage and determination to survive. The story is also dedicated to the divers, medical personnel and all people involved in bringing them safely back home.

The rescue effort involved over 10,000 people including more than 100 divers, scores of rescue workers, representatives from about 100 governmental agencies, 900 police officers, and 2,000 soldiers; and it required 10 police helicopters, seven ambulances, more than 700 diving cylinders, and the pumping of more than a billion litres of water from the caves.

Saman Kunan, a 37-year-old former Thai Navy SEAL, died of asphyxiation during the rescue on 6 July while returning to a staging base in the cave after delivering supplies of air. The rescue diver Beirut Pakbara died in December 2019 of a blood infection contracted during the operation. They deserve eternal respect. 

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