What open water swimming taught me about resilience

Dive into the deep with open water swimmer Bhakti Sharma, as she shares what she learned about resilience during her personal journey from the scorching heat of Rajasthan, India to the bone-chilling waters of her record-breaking swim in Antarctica and her courageous crossing of the English Channel. "In the middle of the ocean, there is nowhere to hide," Sharma says.

Shah Rukh Khan: Courage, determination,
and a single-minded vision.

These are the qualities
the biggest achievers have in common.

These are those brave hearts
for whom failure is not an option.

What looks to us an unconquerable sea,

to our next speaker
is an irresistible stage

she was born to perform on.

So let's dive straight
into the story of our fearless speaker,

Bhakti Sharma,

who's making waves in the world
of long-distance swimming.

Bhakti Sharma.

(Applause)

Bhakti Sharma: Imagine,
in the scorching Rajasthan heat,

on a hot summer afternoon,

a two-and-a-half-year-old
riding on a moped behind her mom,

not knowing where they were headed.

And 20 minutes later,

that two-and-a-half-year-old finds herself

completely submerged in water.

Before I knew it,

I would be kicking, splashing, screaming,

gulping down water,

holding onto my mom for my dear life.

That's how I learned how to swim.

I started pool-swimming
when I was two and a half,

and open water swimming
when I was 14 years old.

And so I have given
over 25 years of my life to this sport,

during which I have swum
in all five oceans of the world,

crossed the English Channel --

which is also known
as the Mount Everest of swimming --

and set a world record
in the freezing Antarctic ocean.

(Applause)

When you spend so much time with a sport,

it ceases to be just that

and becomes a mirror.

And that shows who you really are.

You see that your mettle as an athlete
is not only tested on race day

but every single day,

when the sport demands that you get up
at 4:30 in the morning,

swim for two hours,

go to school, come back,
swim for three hours,

go home, eat and sleep.

When you win a medal
or set a world record,

this mirror shows the happiness
that you and your loved ones feel,

but also reflects the tears that you shed

all by yourself, alone in the water.

Open water swimming
is a very lonely sport.

I have spent hours

looking into the infinite,
seemingly bottomless ocean underneath me,

with nothing to keep me company
but my own thoughts.

And so, I have not only
been tested as a swimmer

but also as a thinking, feeling,
imaginative human being.

Be it my first test as a marathon swimmer,

when I decided to swim for 12 hours
non-stop in a swimming pool

or crossing the English Channel
in 13 hours and 55 minutes.

When you're swimming, you don't talk,

you don't hear very well,

and your vision is restricted
to what's right in front of you

or underneath you.

This isolation has been
my sport's biggest gift to me.

Through open water swimming,

I have come to know myself in ways
that I could have never expected to.

I remember, at the age of 14,

when I jumped into an ocean
for the first time for a swim,

and throughout this swim,

the waves were picking me up
and throwing me down,

I saw the child in me,
who enjoys such adventures.

While crossing the English Channel,

after already having swam for 10 hours,

when I got stuck in one place
for one and a half hour

because of the currents,

I saw the strong
and dedicated athlete in me,

who did not want to disappoint
her parents or her country.

In an open water marathon
held in Switzerland,

when I won my first
gold medal for India --

(Applause)

I witnessed a proud Indian in me.

While crossing the English Channel again,

this time in a relay with my mother,

not knowing that we were creating history,

I saw the protective daughter in me,

who just wanted to see her mom
fulfill her own dreams.

And four years ago,

when I jumped into the Antarctic Ocean,

wearing nothing but a swimsuit,
cap and goggles,

with an unwavering spirit of just doing,

I saw a fighter in me.

When I jumped into that
zero-to-one-degree-Celsius water,

I realized that I had prepared
my body and mind for the cold,

but what I wasn't prepared for
was the density of the water.

Every stroke felt
like pulling through oil.

And in the first five minutes,

I had that paralyzing thought
of just giving up.

How nice it would be
to just forget about all this,

get on the boat,

stand underneath the hot shower

or wrap myself in a warm blanket?

But with that thought,

also came a stronger,
a more willful voice from deep within.

"You know you have it in you
to just take one more stroke."

So I lifted my arm and took a stroke.

"Now one more."

So I took a second and a third stroke.

By the fourth one,

I saw a penguin swimming
underneath my stomach.

It came up to my left
and started swimming with me.

"See? A penguin is cheering you on,"

said that voice within.

(Applause and cheers)

I looked up to my people on the boat.

They had the same smile on their faces
that I had on mine.

The same smile that we all have

when we are stuck in a difficult situation

and we see a ray of hope.

We take it as a sign from destiny,

and we just keep pushing forward.

Just as I did,

and 41 minutes later,

set the world record
for swimming the longest distance

in the Antarctic Ocean.

(Applause)

Imagine, it doesn't even
snow in Rajasthan.

(Laughter)

That voice, which has accompanied me
through all my difficult situations

throughout my swims,

would have never shown itself

if I had not spent so much time alone,

had not paid attention
to every single thought

that crossed my mind.

When you find yourself alone
in an ocean, with your thoughts,

the dangers that you face
are not just external,

like whales, sharks, jellyfish

or even demotivating people.

But the more dangerous demons you face

are the fear and negativity inside you

that tell you, "You're not good enough.

You will never reach the other shore.

You haven't trained enough.

What if you fail? What will people think?

I'm sure everybody is thinking
right now how slow you are."

We all have our own
internal demons, don't we?

In a day-to-day life,
you can hide from them,

behind your work
or many other distractions.

But like I said,

in the middle of the ocean,
there is nowhere to hide.

I have to face my internal demons,

just as much as I have to taste
the salt in the sea,

feel the chafing on my skin,

and acknowledge the whales
swimming beside me.

I hate it, and I love it.

I hate it because this sport
shows me the side of myself

that I don't want to believe exists.

The side of me that is human
and not perfect.

Like the part of me

that can't get out of bed in the morning
and make it to practice.

The side of me that gets
so burned out, so tired,

that just wants to quit swimming.

But I also love it,

because this sport has given me
moments that I can look back on

when I feel unmotivated.

And they bring me to my knees,

because I feel so grateful.

Many of you may not
spend hours swimming non-stop.

But who do you spend
the most amount of your time with?

You may share your external space
with many others,

but there is one constant companion
that you all have:

you.

And yet, most of us may never come
to knowing who we really are.

I'm a daughter, an Indian,
a swimmer, a student.

But I am so much more.

If you are not investing in yourself,

not setting a path
that brings you closer to you,

no amount of "success" in life
can bring you lasting joy or satisfaction.

Even today,

when I can't find motivation
or joy in what I'm doing,

all I ask myself is,

"Is this the best I can do right now?"

And the meaning of my "best" changes.

On some days, it means not giving up,

continuing to swim in freezing water
and setting a world record.

But on many other days,

it means getting over
my depressing thoughts,

stepping out of the house

and being able to do the daily chores.

What does not change is that voice within.

That internal compass

which guides me
to a better self every day.

And I believe

that a truly successful life
is the one which is spent in the pursuit

of becoming the best possible
version of yourself

when you take that last breath.

Thank you.

(Applause)

SRK: I think the only sport
I can't do is swim --

I sink like a rock.

So standing next to
the world's best swimmer

makes me kind of feel --

if you can excuse my pun --

kind of at sea.

But --

BS: (Laughs) No pun intended, of course.

SRK: But what is your next
goal as a swimmer?

BS: I have a major fear of competition,

so what better goal to set
than aiming for the Olympics?

Because open water swimming
is an Olympic sport now.

(Applause)

Even saying it out loud gives me shivers,

because it's such a huge goal

that I don't want to accept
that I have set that goal,

but that's the thrill of it,
that's the part of it.

And my idea is that if I make it
to the Olympics or I don't make it,

that doesn't matter,

but in the process of training for it,

I will have become a better swimmer
and a better person.

SRK: Inshallah, you will make it
to the Olympics.

And I want to tell you

a lot of people who are watching
this show at home,

there's lots of people, all of whom
are thinking only positively for you,

so when you go for the Olympics,

imagine all of us will be wearing
our penguin suits and swimming with you,

and saying, "Go on,
go on, Bhakti, go on, go on."

BS: Can you be my personal penguin?

SRK: I am your penguin now.

It would have been cooler
if you said, like, a shark and all,

but penguin --

BS: Orcas are my spirit animal,
but you can be my orca.

(Applause)

SRK: Ladies and gentleman, Bhakti.

BS: Thank you.

(Applause)