As I began to write this came the rather unsettling news that Tom Petty has hung up his guitar for the last time. This automatically prompted me to put Free Fallin’ on loop and YouTube ensured that the image of people falling prey to gravity without worrying too much about how their orthopaedicians would feel, was imprinted on my mind.
Getting in a floatation tank is a lot like that. Minus the possible injuries and with a lot of salt-infused water thrown into the mix. Piqued by the idea of floating our body ache and general worries away, we made our way to Chennai Floats - the city's first such facility that offers you the chance to relax your muscles, rejuvenate that sun-burnt skin and generally find inner peace. Just to paint you a quick picture: imagine floating on your back in an extra large bathtub (albeit one where in a nicely scented room, lighting that would make nightclubs proud and a general lack of noise, and that's what the nub of a floatation experience is.
Nestled in a decidedly residential lane in Abhiramapuram, Chennai Floats is a venture floated by four friends who have day jobs that are diametrically opposite - Rohan Ajit, Prajeev TK, Rajdeep Madanawat and Vishnu Raj. What united them, other than the fact that they were at school together aeons ago, is a shared appreciation of what these flotation tanks have done for their bodies when they were overseas, "I used to play a lot of football when I was in Canada and my body used to hurt quite a bit," explains Rohan, who was then pointed toward trying the floatation or sensory-deprivation pod to ease those aches, "You have no idea how good that felt," he gushes enthusiastically. Bliss, according to him. Unadulterated, mildly salty bliss.
As we prep to get into the floatation pods we take a spin around the place and quite like how they've done it up. The three pods, sailed in from Singapore, are set up nicely in a three bedroom space that has all the trappings of an upmarket spa. "We've been planning and ordering all the equipment for a year now. Things just got a bit delayed because of demonisation," he tells us. Though the services on offer are distinctly different, the diffusers and gentle lighting are a sight for a sore eyes after the searing Chennai sun.
Much like a sinking ship, even with floatation pods, it's every man for himself (or woman for herself). So for the 60 or 90 minute float session you get the pod and the room that it sits in serenely, allowing yourself. Part of how they ensure the water and the pod are clean are because the 500 pounds of water and Epsom salt are filtered out and cleaned for 15 minutes after you're done with your session. That's like a quick washing machine cycle minus the clothes. Squeaky clean. "Everybody has to shower and rinse off before they get in so hygiene levels are extremely high," ensures Rohan.
His final offer though is, well, liberating. He tells us that we can either use a swimming trunk or choose to go in looking like Pamela Anderson on Playboy's centrefold (god bless Hef) - butt naked. Prudes that we are, we venture forth no less than we would at the average swimming pool - clothed minimally, but clothed all the same.
And with that, you're on your own. The door clicks shut and you can jump into the pod at will. Word of caution: If you find lifts and confined spaces claustrophobic, you can keep the lid of the egg shaped (an extremely large egg at 8.5x5 feet) pod open. That way, you won't feel trapped. "You've got to keep it shut for the entire 90 minute duration though, that's how you get the whole experience," he suggests. This time I comply.
Once in, you can either keep the lights on what I call the 'Vegas fountain' setting, where it cycles through all the colours of the spectrum or you can opt for pitch darkness. There's also some health club like music playing inside, apparently to ensure your descent into sheer silence doesn't scare you.
It's time to take the plunge. Initially, it's difficult to let go completely. Parts of your body tense us subconsciously to stay afloat. But gradually, you let go. One muscle at a time. Until you get to your neck. This is the tricky one, because your brain tells you that the minute you let go, there's going to be water in your ears - often described as the stage before 'Help! I'm drowning' for the average person.
I eventually let go. And then the salt water takes over. I have often wondered what it would be like to float in space. Or even try the zero gravity chamber that the Bruce Willis and Co are thrown into in Armageddon. This is as close to it as it gets. Floating. Just floating. And you don't have to move a muscle.
I'm blissfully beginning to understand how this can help you with body pain and injuries. It's also insanely cool that the buoyancy begins to act like an invisible massager - one that can make your back feel like well-kneaded dough in a pastry chef's hands. Just then, fatal error, I splash some water over my face much like I do when In the pool. Bad idea. Epsom salt in the eyes can be a real pain. But the mild burning eases off soon.
The thing about me, and I suspect most people today, is that doing nothing is an extremely tough ask. Doing nothing without being able to check WhatsApp and phone notifications is probably unimaginable. The floatation tank is worse. Not only are you stuck doing nothing, your senses are heightened and every drop, every movement seems like Odin just sneezed in Asgard. Loud as hell.
Somewhere around what I expect is the 30 minute mark, I begin to believe strongly that my hands and legs have ceased to exist. And to disprove this theory, I decide to rotate. See the limited world on offer, if you will. That's when I understood how relaxed they were - there was a sense of release in my muscles, as they went from complete and absolute inner peace to work mode. Grudgingly, I admit, but they lumbered around all the same.
60 minute mark. After you're done thinking about the story your life, believe me, there's little else you can do anyway, you begin to get get restless. Sleep is an excellent release if you're tired enough to get there, but if you're not, then the clock ticking in your head can drive you crazy. Quick tip, it's not a bad idea to climb out and check your phone - these guys are nice enough not to come and hustle you our of your pod.
Somewhere along the line, I begin to wonder how many hours have passed and just as I'm harbouring fears of being left behind on earth during the rapture, a water jet begins humming...the music is back. The cue that pod-time is done.
I step out, salty and wet, and I think that the logical thing to do is stretch. Except, I don't need to. Every part of the body feels like it's been wrung by one of those robotic masseuses from the future, who know exactly how much pressure is needed where. The only irony is when I head out, showered and towelled dry, the one thing I really want to drink is, surprise surprise, water. All that floating gonna make you thirsty, son.
If I ever had to pick an out-of-body experience, hands down, this is the one I'd pick every single time.
Priced at Rs 3,000 upwards per hour. Check out chennaifloats.com for prices and booking details. Follow @ChennaiFloats on Facebook.