No, dear dear reader, the pools I mention are NOT dung pools. Not quite as bad as that. But I’ll start at the beginning.
Though I hadn’t intended for this to be a part of the post originally, I might as well tell. I went to take a particular test to enrol for an English Language course today. I was told I was too good for it, and should probably wait till I’m an adult and try then. I never said I was modest!
I ride my bicycle to the swimming pool every evening. It’s been rainy lately, so I decided to outrun the rain clouds and go earlier today. Nice idea, because there was a soft breeze out when I peddled ever so calmly through the kilometer. Even the people in cars (a cyclists favourite enemies) were calm today.
Now let me tell you something about cows. In India, it’s not really unusual to find cows roaming their lazy ass on the roads, even the ones cars zoom over. You can find one in any part of the country, but then you might just not. The point is, if there IS a cow on the road, no Indian would take much notice. All we do is honk though it never helps, eventually sigh and wait and then speed away.
But this time I noticed.
Because they weren’t just cows, they were two nice fat buffaloes, and they weren’t just walking, they were having a war dance with their curly horns interlocked tight. Not too far away was a cream coloured cow. I flashed glance between her and the black angry males and knew it all. It is ALWAYS the same. Please girl! Tell me that’s not happening over you!
I giggled. The passivity that girlfriend was showing was the record in all time coolness! Attitude, huh?
So I got to the pool all right.
And I got to the deck all right.
But after that nothing was ‘all right’.
The thing about rain is that we love it so much every time other than when it troubles us. And when it’s the first showers, we are so stuck up with the beauty and Facebook updates that we don’t remember it also troubles us. But this is what it had done, to the sweet pool I was hoping to take refuge in. (This is not the pool I go to. It’s just a pic from Google to show what my pool had become. And after all, how is grime and muck of one place different from another? The caption’s from the original picture.)
Okay, I was not prepared for that.
All I had thought was that there would be less people in , thanks to the rain. I hadn’t come to this…
Oh whatever! I jumped right in. Yes, when it comes to hygiene and fun, there IS a big chance I would choose fun. And then I thought about the people in rural areas who bathed in lakes like this, and also got natural vaccination from Hepatitis A.
But I am quirk-some too… I wasn’t in for two minutes that I had decided to just do the backstroke after all. Gone were all the underwater stunts… gone were the mushroom roll-ups…. gone were the races… the fun…
At least I could still make mermaid swishes inside the water, pretending my legs were the long tails we learned to envy in kinder garden.
But then an eye-opener. Naturally there were some insects too in the water (though a man was working diligently to get them out.) A crow spot it’s lunch close by me, swooped down, picked it up in it’s beak and….
after a few paces, dropped it back.
Even the crow discarded it. Whatever in the world!
The green water was noisily teasing the boards around the pool. ‘1.3 metres.’ or ‘2 metres.’ Nothing mattered, the green-ity was so dark, you couldn’t see a foot beneath you!
How long could my persistence survive? I came back home, dirty wet. And came online to tell the tale.
What a day, huh?