Flights and Fields

A sophisticated, well dressed gentleman in his checkered shirt sat next to me on an international flight. When we first got talking, he seemed like a regular IT guy from Bangalore, on his way to an onsite project. He was a little sad about leaving his wife and two year old daughter behind, a little nervous about finding his way around on foreign soil and a little excited about the project he was going to work on. He showed me some pictures of his daughter. She was gorgeous. He was to spend her birthday with random strangers on a plane, heading towards an unknown horizon, looking longingly at other children her age.

He hailed from a small town in interior Karnataka. He moved to Bangalore a few years ago for work and left behind his home, parents and the life that a small town had promised. But what surprised me was his distaste for Bangalore. That was the least interesting bit.

I understood quickly that it wasn’t Bangalore that he disliked. It was the lack of small town facilities, small town benefits, the fields, the streets, everything. What he said, with pain brimming his brown eyes, was the love for everything agrarian. He spoke nostalgically about the land his family owned, about how his father toiled in the fields till recently until his health started to deteriorate and how they had leased the land to a relative who hasn’t tended to it the way his father did.

Between announcements from the cabin crew and packeted hot meals, I thought a story was unfolding in front of me. Of a man, who looked ordinary and was going to soon land on foreign soil but spoke of extraordinary attachment to his small town on rustic Indian soil.

A little while before we went our separate ways, I asked him a simple question. And his answer seemed very profound to me. I asked, “So, what next, after your project in the US?” He said, “I don’t know immediately. But in 5 years from now, I will be a farmer.” The well dressed gentleman in his checkered shirt sitting next to me said he will be a farmer. He did not say “he wants to be”. He said “he will be”. I have not heard such conviction in anybody’s plan about what they want to do.

I’m so glad the well dressed gentleman in his checkered shirt, who I thought was the average Indian guy, aspiring for the big American dream, sat next to me. Not only was he an engaging conversationalist, but also happened to be the first aspiring farmer I know.

Image Source: https://pixabay.com/en/aircraft-flight-sky-grassland-479772/

Originally published on The Anonymous Writer- http://theanonymouswriter.com/fiction/flights-and-fields/

The Wise Window

I think it would be right to call the window a wise window. For it had seen many tales unfold, many long nights, many weary sighs, many secret meetings. Hundreds of people shared a brief slice of their otherwise chaotic lives with others who were not much like themselves. The window stood testimony.

In one such story, the wise window played a crucial role. Now, whether to call it a romantic one or a mysterious one, is your call. But here’s the story that the wise window told me. It was a cold and wet day. One which warranted extra cups of hot water that sold under the garb of coffee or tea. There was the usual clamour of random folks thrown together for a journey, the hawkers and vendors shouting out, hoping to make a lean profit. And by the said wise window, sat a quiet girl- Aparna. Clad in a simple maroon kurta and jeans, she wore big black rimmed glasses. What the window passively witnessed, the girl actively avoided eye contact with- the chaotic scene unfolding in a compartment of the Charminar Express, passengers scrambling to fasten their luggage, the din of the overhead announcements and loud wails of fussy toddlers. She burrowed herself in a book, lost in mysterious verses of a far away land. Nobody could say for sure what she was reading as the book was neatly covered in an old calendar paper. On the back of the book, a note was scribbled in pencil- Property of Aparna. Ask before you can read.

Across from her, by the other window, sat a young man- Rishi. He sipped his piping hot coffee and pretended to be engrossed in his phone. Aunties and uncles bustled about, dragging suitcases and handbags. An old woman sat on the floor, with her basket of jasmine flowers by her side. As he got up to trash the tea cup, Rishi could not help but notice Aparna and her book, tucked away in a far corner of the seat. When he came back, she looked up from her engrossing book and smiled at him. He smiled back. Ice was broken and they made polite conversation. After a few minutes, he could not control himself any longer. He just had to know. He asked her what she was reading. She opened the cover and held it out to him- Rebecca. He was a fan of Daphne Du Maurier too, but had not read Rebecca yet. He liked what he saw- a girl that loved books deeply enough to cover them, a girl who read beyond the popular genre of Chetan Bhagat and the likes.

For a while they talked about books, authors, travel and places. The compartment had quietened to a great extent and the aunties and uncles looked ready to retire to bed. As is almost always the case, two aunties were allotted upper berths and they had either knee or back problems. The uncles said they’d be really grateful if the youngsters could exchange their lower berths for the upper ones, which were closer to the fans, the aunties added. They didn’t have to try too hard. Aparna readily agreed and Rishi followed suit. Soon the lights went out and dull snores in varying rhythms could be heard. Aparna turned on the light by her headrest and continued to read. She knew Rishi was only pretending to be busy with the phone again. He probably would have liked to talk some more. Girls could always sense such things.

When he tried to call out and start a conversation, one of the aunties got up to go to the bathroom. She cheekily told him to take a break and save some conversation for the morning. If he blushed, Aparna could not see it in the dimly lit compartment. She giggled and said goodnight. For a while, he was quiet and watched her from under his sheets. She was a great conversationalist and he was smitten. He wished he had the courage to ask her for her number. All he knew was her name and that they were both heading in the same direction. He forgot to ask her where she was getting off, which didn’t work in his favour at all. Let her read Daphne’s acclaimed work now, but in the morning, he was going to ask her where she was headed and in his trademark gentlemanly manner, seek her permission to call her sometime to just say hello and perhaps discuss books over a cup of coffee. He could not wait for morning.

A railway guard shook him awake. They had reached their final destination and all passengers were to get off. He realised he had overslept and the compartment was almost empty. All the aunties and uncles had left too. Who got off where, he had no idea. Vaguely, he asked the guard if he saw a spectacled girl in a maroon kurta getting off at this station. The guard eyed him suspiciously as if he was being a lecherous fellow ogling at co passengers. Rishi quickly averted his gaze and jumped down. He found his shoes and gathered his belongings. In an almost obsessive compulsive force of habit, he turned to switch off the fans before leaving the train. As he reached for the switchboard, he noticed a little piece of paper fluttering on the window latch. He released the paper from the wise window’s hold. There was a number scribbled in pencil and a smiley followed by a bold and slanting A. It reminded him of the bold and slanting R on the cover page of Rebecca. He smiled broadly and did a little jig in the empty compartment, much to the surprise of the railway guard.

When he looked at the piece of paper again, he noticed there were only eight digits. It was not a landline, for it did not begin with a 2. The eighth digit was followed by two tiny dots. Ah! Aparna loved mystery as much as Rishi did. There probably will be 99 calls to wrong numbers. But he knew one of them was going to reach the right phone. And when it did, he was positive there was going to be a coffee and some discussion of books sometime in the future. Near future.

Image Source: https://pixabay.com/en/train-wagon-carriage-railway-690362/

Originally published on The Anonymous Writer- http://theanonymouswriter.com/fiction/the-wise-window/

Innocent Ambitions

In some ways today was just like all other days. The sun shone brightly through the gaping hole on the wall they called a window. A faint little melody drifted from the kitchen. A song danced on mother’s lips. That was very unusual.

Bunty sprung out of his mat on the floor. He scrubbed his face, rinsed his mouth, finished his morning business and reached the kitchen. The usual plate of dry bread and a glass of fresh goat milk waited for him. He gulped them down and hugged his mother. She was positively beaming. He wondered why, but did not wait to ask. It was time again to chase the flag.

Several weeks ago, Bunty had spotted a group of foreign looking tourists climbing the slope on which his little house stood. But they were so far above him that he had to squint to see them against the glaring sun. As he had strained his little eyes, he had seen one man from the group stick something in the ground- a flag. Ever since that day, he’s been trying to reach there to find out what flag that was.

He filled his water-bag and kissed his mother on her dimpled cheek. He ran out behind his house and set off on his little expedition.

For the first twenty minutes or so, he almost never paused. He sprinted up the hilly terrain as if it were a smooth road. As it got steeper, he found that the going got tougher.

When he paused at his favorite boulder for a sip of water, another boy came along from a less trodden path. It was buried behind dense bushes, almost not visible to the naked eye. The boy said his name was Billu. Smiles were exchanged and some pleasantries followed. What better to do on a no-school day than to climb a hillside, they agreed.

Together from the boulder point, two boys scampered upwards with renewed energy. With many tales to exchange between them, covering a span of a little over a decade, they kept talking almost non-stop

Between collecting feathers and smooth shiny pebbles, catching fish in the little stream to talking about their favorite goats, the boys had much to say, even more to listen, and didn’t even stop by the scary looking ‘monster tree’, as Bunty called it, for a second water break.

When Billu slowed down, Bunty would tease him into a race and when Bunty slowed down, Billu would return the favour enthusiastically.

All this climbing, talking and the excitement of making a new friend slowly made the boys very hungry. They didn’t carry anything with them except water and when they stopped again, they decided it was best to make this attempt another time. Perhaps they could try to reach the flag together on the next no-school day.

When they turned around them, the sight was beautiful. There was something magical about the valleys around them. The air was perhaps a little crisper, or the wind just a little chilly or the sunshine a little warmer. Whatever it was, it definitely was magical.

As the duo looked down at the trail that brought them to this stupendously mesmerizing spot, they had the biggest surprise of their lives. Both of them rubbed their eyes a couple of times to make sure they really were seeing it right.

As they almost ran down the slope in glee, just about managing to not slip on the gravel and roll down the rest of the way, the boys saw the little flag fluttering far below them. They reached it and caught their breath; their eyes shone at the white dove on the flag. In all their excitement, they had crossed their milestone and did not even realize it.

A few hours later, that night when Bunty went to bed on his mat, he gazed at the half moon through the window and smiled to himself. Indeed, he was right that morning, in having felt something was very unusual about that day. He made a new friend, reached his little flag and pushed himself harder than he ever had. He remembered the highlight of the day- after a few animated moments when they celebrated their victory, albeit delayed celebrations, two pairs of eager little eyes looked upward for another flag to chase. The excited eyes spotted some remains of an old wall farther up from the flag.

Their calendar was marked for the next no-school day.

Image Source: https://pixabay.com/en/hiking-hikers-backpacks-knapsacks-690479/

Of Tombstones and Epitaphs

What would you like to be written on your tombstone?

A few days ago, my friend asked this question to a group of brilliant writers and word wizards. Some of them came up with beautiful profound quotes. Yet others chose to be buried alive and not have a tombstone at all. In my culture, I wouldn’t have a tombstone. I’d be cremated, which means nobody will ever know I walked on the face of the earth. There would be no stone that read my name, no wooden casket five feet and four inches long will have to bear my weight. Perhaps a few people will remember me and talk about me to a few others but over time, the few will become very few and dwindle to a handful and then to nobody.

But, if I had a tombstone and could pick my own epitaph, it would probably read- “The girl who lived because she wrote; the girl who wrote for herself.”

Then I wonder if that would work. I like to imagine there is a huge oak tree a few feet away from my grave. Will somebody really come to visit me? Will somebody sit on the bench under the big oak tree? Will they be lost in reminiscence- of the person I was or the person I was not? Will they remember the stories I wrote? Will they be told to young children? Will the tales live after I’m gone? Perhaps, I should have left them where people would find them easily- on my table or the book shelf, instead of hiding them between the pages of books that nobody will ever touch.

Maybe it will not matter where I left the stories. Maybe they were never meant to see the light. I will probably be reduced to what meets the naked eye. A slightly chubby girl who never did master the art of cooking or keeping house, or folding the laundry like the dry-cleaners would. Perhaps, that is what onlookers will tell the man who is to engrave the epitaph. ‘The girl who had to grow up too soon and didn’t quite master the use of a ladle or a broom. Like someone else.’ There is always someone else who cooks better. And I am not she; I know I will never be she. But nobody cares that I don’t want to be she.

If I had to describe me, I’d call myself a story teller, a dreamer, an aspiring writer, a thinker. If I could truly bring about one change to mankind, it would be to get people to look beyond the surface. I am chubby, an uninhibited extrovert and a lousy cook. But I’d like to think I’m more than that. So are you. You could be a lousy ad-maker, but a fantastic teacher or a chess wizard or a gifted hair stylist. And that is what should define you. We should all be given the right to write our epitaphs, because nobody else will ever know all the layers that dance under the surface of our skin. Unless you decide to leave your life an open book and remember to leave the book on the table.

Image Source: https://pixabay.com/en/cemetery-graveyard-magnolia-tree-987155/

The Perfect Face

He opened the latched doors. Behind them lay his most coveted possessions. Yet, was rendered useless by the world in which he lived. As he stood in the middle of the room, he looked around him. About thirty pairs of beautiful eyes looked back at him. Each of them had layers of emotion. Some throbbed with a longing, some danced with mysterious joy, yet others looked at him coyly. He had not dared to paint beyond the eyes.

Every chance he got, he came to this room that he considered a shrine, and he painted. He painted pairs of eyes. Beautiful pairs of eyes. He did not see anything else in those vivid dreams of his. Just eyes. And they spoke to him like no human did. They told him stories and engaged him in conversations. That is why he started to paint them, to remember the magic they wove in his sleep. To remind him that they are more than just a recurring set of dreams.

Today, he stood in front of yet another brilliant effort of his, the best he had ever done. And suddenly, on impulse, he gave it a nose. Now, that was something. A sharp pointy nose. He didn’t know why he painted that nose. Or why it carried a single sparkling diamond stone. He certainly did not understand what possessed him to paint the prettiest lips on that face. It was a beautiful pair of ruby red slightly pouty lips. But what made them extraordinary was the ghost of a smile.

He paused to look at that face. He had never seen anything so pretty. For a fleeting moment, he was proud- that he had created the perfect face ever, albeit on canvas. His hands swiftly made some bold strokes and gave life to simple yet assertive eyebrows and put on a pair of modest ears that carried large pretentious earrings. He stood back to admire his own work. She was perfect. Wherever he stood in the room, she looked just perfect.
The following week, he found an advertisement in the paper, seeking paintings from amateurs for an art exhibition.

He was sure she stood a chance at being hung on a wall, men and women would ogle her face, admire her mystery and gaze at her eyes. Just as he expected, she adorned the exhibition wall very soon. He sat in a far corner, observing people who looked at his perfect muse. One gentleman stood for longer than others. He seemed perplexed, overjoyed and absolutely surprised.

The onlooker sought the gallery owner and asked to see the creator of the painting. The owner pointed him towards the far corner from where the onlooker was being observed. He took quick long strides and was beside the painter in a few seconds. He shook hands vigorously and said he’d like to buy the painting and was willing to pay a very handsome price for it. The painter was taken aback. How could he sell her? She was not for sale. She hung there to tease people. To tell them they can look at her but she can never belong to them. This man was mighty audacious!

Breaking into his train of thoughts, the man asked the painter how he knew his fiancé. The painter knew he was a hoax. For as much as he wanted her for himself, he knew she only presented herself in dreamland. But when he saw the onlooker open his wallet and take out a picture, it was as if the painter was getting teased. This girl existed! But he had never seen her in life. And yet, it felt like he knew every inch of her face like it was the back of his palm. That perfect face did not belong to him, then. Not even when he brought it to life on canvas.

The painter signed some papers and held his cheque in hand. He didn’t notice that the 4 was followed by six zeros. He had to get away from there. Away from her. He was back in his room, staring at the beautiful eyes around him. He could not believe she was not here. He spread a new sheet of canvas and inked a brown pair of alluring eyes. As if his hand had a life of its own, it proceeded to give the pair of eyes, a pretty nose. No diamond this time.

Image Source: https://pixabay.com/en/draw-sketch-design-outline-737716/

Super Short Stories- 8

With this serving, I am 20 tales shy of a century! Very many thanks to everybody who has spared their time to read my tales and give feedback. This is getting a little cliched, perhaps. But I cannot skip the thank you note! I would love to try and attempt tales on suggestions from readers, friends and family. After you are done reading this post, I’d be happy to get suggestions/ topics/ words for me to attempt more tales. Do drop a note if you have the time 🙂 Thanks in advance!

#71
Everybody wished for the same thing
‘May you be blesed with little Krishna’
After hours of blinding pain and labour
God finally listened to me-
I was blesed with the most precious daughter.
|Daughter|

#72
He loved his boss’ home
It was a cozy little brick house
Something he had always wanted
When he saw the little wooden swing
Out in the garden, his heart fluttered
As the hostess came to greet him
A long lost conversation echoed
In his confused muddled head-
“We’ll have a little brick house
With a wooden swing in the garden”
|Uncanny|

#73
At the age of forty six
Your little hands led me to the temple
Down by the riverbed
Years after you’ve moved away
I still sit by the temple pillar
I can hear you in the ring of the bell
And sense you in the soft white sands.
|Temple|

#74
She loved to go fishing with dad
He always hauled a big catch
She’d slip behind him sneakily
And drop the slippery fish back in the water
A few feet away her mom stood smiling
She had taught her daughter well.
|Save a life|

#75
Cardigans, winter coats and sweaters
Every brand label hung on hangers
But it was the moth-eaten, hand woven
Musty old green quilt that kept him warm
His mother gifted it to him
On his sixth birthday.
|Non brand|

#76
Among the jewelry and clothes
The many paintings and vases
She found an unaddressed envolope
Four line suddenly outweighed
All other presents put together
The anonymous writer perfectly knew
What she’d want for her birthday!
|The anonymous writer|

#77
She traveled far and wide
Met many friends and family
Her gaze seemed empty, though
And her ssmile distant and lost
But when she put pen to paper
The life in her flowed out
Beautifully into little words.
|Wordsmith|

#78
She’d been told a lie all the time
‘You’re plain’, they told her for years
She knew she was rare-
Mysterious, mythical and magical
When the artist surprised her
With a unicorn tattoo on her ankle.
|Unicorn|

#79
I winced in pain and agony
But I didn’t cry out loud
I guess I’d have to bleed red
For those armed men to care
Or perhaps they won’t even then.
|Tree stump|

#80
She dusted their home
Changed their sheets
Washed their toilets
Earned ten rupees
Her wage left by the door
Gandhi sighed when she held
The tattered note in her blistered hands.
|Untouchable|

Super Short Stories- 7

Hello once again! I am super excited to share with you the seventh serving of Super Short Stories. All of them have been penned during travel. Literally penned. I got myself a little scribble pad and found myself a lucky ball point pen 🙂

Thank you for stopping by and taking the time to read the little tales. Am just thirty away!! <Come, dance with me in celebration!> 😀

#61
I knew it was going to be short lived
When I held you tight in my embrace
I aw the life run out of you
And one fine moment you said your last
I’ve since found many of your kind
Yet none just like you.
|Ball point pen|

#62
In all the six years they’d been married
Neither uttered a syllable to the other
Yet they said ‘I love you’ everyday
Four eyes danced to a song of their own
Words of which they never could mouth.
|Mute love|

#63
I found you out of the blue
There on the road you started
Your curvy scintillating trail
Our torrid affair sprung forth
For miles I was hooked
And just as suddenly as you began
You stopped short and were gone!
|Rain on the road|

#64
She didn’t take his surname
Or change her faith to his
But she was his arms and feet
His voice and his very being
When he got paralyzed
For four decades now
They have been tho bodies
Sharing one soul.
|Marriage|

#65
He built for her a beautiful home
With many doorways and towers
His toddler sister though,
Destroyed it in a matter of seconds
With her own hands and feet.
|Sand castles|

#66
You would call it love at first sight
From beginning to end I glanced quickly
I must have eyed you a dozen times at most
Yet you charmed your way into my heart
Without going on a date
Or even having a conversation!
|Fictional love|

#67
The green elephant stood out
Against the glowing purple sun
Stray streaks of pink and blue
Looked like her signature
Scrawled in perfect randomness
The two year old artist
Had just finished her masterpiece.
|Artist|

#68
You kept me a prisoner
Ashamed of my drooling mouth
And unpredictable mood swings
I was neither to be seen
Nor heard
What you could not take away
My absolute freedom from me
What I thought in my head-
You could never chain that.
|Freedom|

#69
For years he and I fought
He finally tunneled his way
Into your beautiful heart
But today you are destined
To sing my praises all day
While I stand playing a flute
And you sit at my feet.
|Meerabai role-play|

#70
Twenty two years after college
When we met at today’s reunion
I was overjoyed to see
You’d saved a seat for me
Like you used to, so many years ago!
|Save a seat|

Hoping to serve the next round before the end of another fortnight. I’m loving this! 🙂 Do take care and be well!

Super Short Stories- 6

Hello! We meet again today for the sixth serving of this series. I must be honest though. Today’s post is technically half short stories and half longish ones. 🙂 I must once again thank a multitude of friends and family for keeping me upbeat about the whole writing business, prompt feedback and undying encouragement. Without much ado, I will let you get started 🙂

#51
Torrential rains lashed
But they huddled close by
Working to and fro
Playing “catch me”
No winner, no loser!
|Wipers|

#52
The distant rise of the hills
The stretch of green all around
The sway of the lazy swing
The cold, almost moist breeze
The shrill call of the first lark
A cup of hot tea soothing the soul
Are but indicators
Of time well spent on a holiday.
|Holiday|

#53
She had walked a long way
Now she didn’t know where to turn
Yesterday, she had his his shadow
To follow and walk behind
Now that he was gone
She looked for the first time
At her own frail shadow beside her.
|Shadow|

#54
If life were made of ifs and buts
If every page of this book
Had an option for us to pick
If we were allowed to edit
And re do our choices
I’m not sure if it might be fun
Or just page after page of chaos!
|Ifs and buts|

#55
He saw them battle
Against the toughest teams
Ate little, slept little
Did little else
Over more than a month
Day and night, like a zombie
Eyes bloodshot and sunken
But when they lost the final today
He felt like he was falling
Into an endless abyss.
|True blue fan|

#56
She walked through those gates
Once again this morning
Without the hustle of being there
before the first bell rang
The last decade had changed
The entire landscape of the campus
Yet, in that forgotten corner
She found what she came here for-
A full grown majestic mango tree
Some changes are indeed exciting!
|Welcome change|

#57
“That was a great party!
Did you see the crowd?”
He said when they got home
“I was still alone, honey
While you talked politics and sports”
She whispered in her head
As she smiled and nodded back.
|Alone|

#58
Everybody opined
Even if it was unsought
But I had to make a call
Decide one way or the other
I flipped the little coin
To make the decision for me
Perhaps if it fell the other side
I might have been a painter
Not a lawyer.
|Coin flip|

#59
If I didn’t choose to go to the library
If I didn’t trip and fall on my face
If I didn’t knock those books out of your hands
If I didn’t stop to pick them up
If I didn’t meet your eyes to apologize
I wouldn’t have fallen a second time
Into those deep brown pools
No wonder they call it falling in love
For I had such a magnificent fall!
|The second fall|

#60
All night long he wished
For time to paue and hold still
He knew what tomorrow help
She would be lost in a a world
With over six billion people in it
Yet his heart didn’t dare
To ask her for a phone number
When he woke up startled
The train pulled into his station
And she was most definitely gone
But in her window latch
A tiny scrap of paper fluttered
A phone number with nine digits
The tenth spot was a blank
Ah, perhapsa the paper resembled
His quivering excited heart
The woman loved mystery
As much as he did!
|Mystery|

I’ve been traveling since the end of July- so most of these were written on the trot. Hoping to publish another post in a fortnight. Thanks once again for stopping by and taking the time to read.

Super Short Stories- 5

Here is a fifth serving of Super Short Stories! With this, I’ve touched 50 short stories. Half a century! 🙂 I must take this moment to reiterate that this feat has only been possible thanks to the continued feedback and encouragement from all of you.

Here’s to celebrating the grand old Five-Oh! 🙂

#41

It has been a lonesome battle
Fighting those gnomes and demons
That only he could see and hear
No medicine was the perfect cure
No counseling helped long term
Tonight he decided to kill them
When he finally will draw his last.
|Psychosis|

#42

All his life
Was about running
Making money
Reaching high
Escaping every evil
He ran and ran
Until the battery died.
|Temple runner|

#43

A dash of grease
An assorted sprinkle
Hot and spluttering
A shade of golden brown
Splashed like a crown
On every dish.
|Tadka garnish|

#44

She was rummaging
Through her box of rings
Diamonds and sapphires
Precious other gem stones
She picked gingerly
That chocolate wrapper ring
And slid it on her finger
‘I wish you were around’
She whispered.
|Lost love|

#45

One of them wore
Dirty rags for clothes
While the other wore a uniform
They were conditioned
Not to converse
But on the bus,
They always traded
One smile for another
|Barter smiles|

#46

The grass on her side
Was always greener
He sneaked out at night
To water hers when she forgot
|True friend|

#47

He gazed at the red
A little faded now, perhaps
And wondered where she was
The crush from highschool
Who signed her love note
With a crimson lipstick kiss.
|Crimson kiss|

#48

One afternoon she blurted
Everything on her mind
Then there was a pause
It grew with vigor
Watered by the complete silence
And then there was nothing
It’s true when they say
Some things are best left unspoken.
|Unspoken|

#49

She took a tiny step forward
A  giant leap of faith
Curled into a ball
Lunged forward
Stretched backward
Flailed wildly
Surfaced momentarily
Moved marginally
She had just had her first swim.
|First swim|

#50

I always see him carry her
High up on his shoulders
Today I saw his naked torso
Down at the swimming pool
Those little feet on his chest
Etched her in his heart forever
Indeed, that kind of dads
Are a dwindling breed now.
|Feet tattoos|

Pool Diaries

At the age of almost 29, I decided to take up swimming lessons. I love water but have never actually been in a pool. I’m hoping this piece might help others who are skeptical or worried about learning to swim. I enrolled myself in a 10 day session and wrote down my everyday struggles, fears that I overcame, and the journey to finally becoming a swimmer. I must tell you that I could just stand or at best wade through water that was shallow, when I signed up for the classes. 🙂

Day 1-
Instructor- Matt/Kelly
I got into the deceivingly calm waters in the pool. The chill hit my senses and ran a shiver down my spine. This was going to take a little getting used to! I plunged into the water neck deep and gasped. But it was done now.

The first day, we were introduced to the guard tube. The sturdiest flotation device there is. I used a guard tube to try and swim. I was scared and although I knew it was a pool, I seemed to see just blue everywhere. Water, water everywhere not a drop to drink. The smell of chlorine was strong too.

Kelly asked me and another batch mate if we wanted to try and swim the length of the pool with the guard tube and two instructors by our side. I could not expect more safety measures to ensure I don’t drown. Yet, call it beginners fright if you will, but we refused. We managed till the 5 feet mark and back.

I faced two challenges. One was the idea of putting all my faith into the guard tube and the instructor. The other was to try raise my legs to the surface. I was asked to scoop with both my hands and try to be as horizontal as I could, on the surface of the pool so I could paddle with my feet. Scooping, I did okay. Paddling, not as much. It felt like I was trying to walk in the water!

By the end of the class though, an achievement is made. I swam. With the guard tube. But I swam. And that is what mattered. I moved in the water. Of my own efforts- not in a boat or a raft. Matt and Kelly were both very encouraging and supportive. I moved from 3 feet to 5 feet. Back and forth, back and forth.

Come, dance with me. I’m going to do a little jig!

Day 2-
Instructor- Matt
Once chilled, you always expect a chill. I cautiously entered the pool today but was pleasantly surprised. It was not cold at all. The weather was crazy with a thunderstorm prediction and skies were grey-ish with clouds looming large. Yet, the water felt good.

I wondered if I would be able to conquer today, my fears from yesterday. I started in earnest my effort to stay on the surface and paddle and scoop all at once. I remembered what a friend said– if I didn’t learn to keep my feet straight while using the guard tube, I will never learn it on the noodle.

I tried to get my act straight. I sought help to specifically better my leg movements. Matt suggested I hold my arms around the guard tube and just focus on paddling without the distracting sway of arms. I tried that and wow, I moved better and my legs didn’t seem like they were trying to walk. I was more horizontal than yesterday.

The biggest achievement though, was reaching the deep end. 8 feet of water under me!  I conquered the big blue pool. Matt was very wise in reminding me the simple truth- it makes no difference whether you have 3 feet or 8 feet of water under you. Or even 8 million, he added. That last bit was a bit scary to hear, but made perfect sense! And personally, the icing on my cake was that I was the first in my batch to reach the far end 🙂 I swam like crazy- the whole length of the pool- 4 times, with the guard tube though.

I was hoping to move to the medium noodle tomorrow. I have to admit though, that I was hoping there would be heavy rain and the class might get cancelled. But boy, was I happy it didn’t happen! It was a great day, except for the nagging pain in my muscles.

Who cares about pain, when you are an achiever? 🙂 Care for a second jig?

Day 3-
Instructor- Martin
I decided I was going to learn to float today. Not because I wanted to learn something new but because my arms and legs and every other muscle in my body were so sore and tired that I didn’t want to move.

I had new challenges- like with every new learning. So I had to plop myself backwards and lay flat on the surface of the water. Is that even possible, considering my weight and lack of skills and the supreme fear of water entering my ears and nostrils?

Several times today I felt like I was trying to drown myself. And water gushed into my ears and nostrils like flooding the titanic. That I’m alive to share this story means it is conquerable! 🙂

Martin taught me, after a special session in basic physics, that there were 3 crucial rules to staying afloat. One, to always look straight up and keep your face parallel to the water with your ears submerged. Two, to keep your bum from tending to sink (do what it takes). Three, and the most important of them all, take a deep breath, fill your lungs with air. The bigger you are, the less dense you will be.

Over the course of the class, after many cases of spluttering, faltering, gasping and flailing, I floated. I FLOATED for a few seconds. Does that matter? Only the first two words! 🙂 Time for a third jig!

We were taught some stretching exercises to ease muscle pain and soreness. It was exhausting to work them but I felt better. Significantly better. I can go back to swimming tomorrow 🙂 especially considering another batch mate moved on to the noodle!

Yeah, I know. I’m competitive. That’s who I am! 🙂

Day 4-
Instructor- Kelly
Low turnout today. That meant exclusive attention from instructors. And focused learning. Yay.

I volunteered to try the medium noodle after the first lap (swim cycle?) to and from the deep end. Although I volunteered, only I know the plight of my little heart that firmly wanted to believe I was going to goof up.

I held on to the noodle like it was the last thing I might ever see and plunged. My head sank a little bit, as did the rest of my body- noodle provided much less support as compared to the guard tube. After fumbling initially, I managed to swim a little bit. I requested we not try the deep end today as I wanted to get accustomed to the noodle some more.

Kelly was very supportive and agreed to do horizontal laps along the 3 feet and then we moved to 3.5 feet. Slowly we moved to 4. And eventually, the last lap was along the 5+ feet. I was only a couple of feet away from 8. But I wanted to wait until tomorrow.

Laura taught me how to stand in shallow water coming from swimming position, without reaching for the pool walls. She explained when I pushed water in a forward motion, that automatically stopped propelling me and if I tried to put my feet down, I should be able to stand without touching the wall. It was great learning!

From stubbing my toe on the first day, to gulping mammoth amounts of chlorinated water, to bumping into other batch mates on my way, trying to stand up without holding on to the walls, to conquering the deep end and learning to float myself while getting my ears filled with water that stayed put overnight, I have come a long way.

I have enjoyed the sessions so far and it may be the best thing I did in recent times- sign up for swimming classes 🙂

Day 5-
Instructor- Laura
I had an amazing day at the pool! 🙂 I hope you realize how the tone of my writing has changed over the days. From mortal fear to mild skepticism to facing every day challenges and making new milestones, I am beginning to love the classes!

Today, I used the medium noodle to swim all the way to the deep end three times. I wasn’t really scared at all. I did get some water in my ears again and gulped down some too but I was OK. I knew that wasn’t the end of it all. The more I was in the pool, the more comfortable I got.

Soon, we graduated to the thin noodle. Hard work. My head was closer to the water, which meant I had to make that extra effort to swim without the water engulfing me. I managed it reasonably well. I think I was successful because of two factors- my own effort and Laura’s persistent encouragement.

My paddling got better and faster than before, my limbs didn’t hurt as much and I could happily converse while swimming- without being short of breath. We just finished one half of the course. I only have 5 days left to learn as much as I can. I promise to myself I am going to be adventurous and bold and try as many new things as I can. I hope I won’t forget this week’s lessons over the weekend!

Day 6-
Instructor- Matt

After the weekend break, I was worried about goofing today. When I got in the water, I was wishing for the first time, that it could have been colder 🙂 all day has been sweltering hot and I was looking forward to getting back in the pool!

I asked for the thin noodle and was a little hesitant at first but Matt was super encouraging and I started off. Once that happened, there was literally no looking back, at least not until I reached the deep end!

Today, I was comfortable in the pool, with the occasional splash of water in my ears and maybe a gulp or two. But the frequency for fumbling came down drastically. I enjoyed being able to go back and forth without getting too tired. Today’s highlight– 4 full laps, using just the thin noodle!! 🙂

I enjoyed today’s class thoroughly although my legs were cramping a bit by the end of the class. Am little sad we have just 4 classes left! 😦 I wonder if I will be able to actually swim without any help whatsoever over the remaining classes. I look around and find different people trying different things- treading, floating, jumping, elementary back stroke- I didn’t even know there were so many aspects in swimming!

So looking forward to tomorrow!

Day 7
Inclement weather- Thunderstorm
I did hope for a class and I walked down to the pool. I called the pool query and Matt answered. He told me about the Thunderstorm rule. Even if there was no swimming lesson today, I thought it was good to write this down. So when there is thunderstorm, the rule is that the pool remain closed for at least half hour from the last thunder that was heard.

It was supremely depressing. We will now have only 3 more classes- provided the weather will be conducive for swimming the next few days.

Day 8
Instructor- Laura
Excellent progress, if I may say so myself! 🙂 I was talking to my Laura about trying to swim without any floatation device at all. And she was very supportive and said we could move on to bubbles before we tried swimming without help. Bubbles is a little flotation device and true to its name, is as light as a bubble, which means it wasn’t much help at all.

So bubbles it was. As is usual with me, I was unwilling to swim down the length of the pool with the new device. Three little squares around my back wasn’t really a lot. I requested we do the breadth of the pool a few times. I wasn’t sure I will succeed.

But I did! Definitely extra effort. And definitely a little scary. But I did it. Laura was always at one arm’s distance from me and always had an encouraging word to say. I could not even do the breadth of the pool to and from one end. I was getting short of breath and the effort was exhausting- to swim with barely any help with the bubbles.

Laura suggested we try another activity before continuing swimming and we moved to the 5 feet line and she taught me the basics of treading. I was very scared about tipping into the steep incline of the floor. On hindsight, I worried unnecessarily.

While moving my hands through water seemed easy in my head, it was much harder to put that into practice. I understood the leg movements she demonstrated, but found them hard to imitate. In a couple of minutes, I didn’t know what I was doing with my legs or arms, for that matter- but I was afloat with my head bobbing up and down. I was treading! And soon I was at 8 feet!

Laura explained to me that while the leg movements she showed me was her particular style of treading, there really wasn’t any correct way of doing it- we could all do what suited us best. An action similar to walking is what worked in my case 🙂

Today’s highlights- graduated to bubbles, learnt basic treading and reached the deep end with bubbles!

Day 9

Instructor- Laura

Another very eventful day! I started with the bubble and swam a little bit. I was getting more comfortable with it. Laura suggested we practice some more treading. This time we started at 5 feet and quickly got the hang of it. When she suggested I could try jumping into the pool, I understood why we were practicing treading!

Of course I was petrified by the idea of jumping into the pool and almost said no when she said maybe I could try sliding into the pool instead of jumping. Although I was hesitant, Laura was very persuasive and supportive and I agreed. The first couple of times I slid around 5 feet and made contact with the ground and that wasn’t so bad.

When we moved on to the deep end though, Laura had to haul me up to the surface a couple of times and keep reminding me to move my arms and legs to tread. But I got there eventually. This was new domain and I conquered it too! Soon I was sliding into the deep end and resurfacing by myself. I was too tired to swim to the wall though. So, I continued to tread.

Today’s milestone- Learnt to slide into the pool, resurface and tread long enough to reach the wall. I managed it in the deep end too! Excellent. We had about 6 minute left when I asked Laura would I be able to swim without flotation before the last class and she suggested we give it a shot right then. I wasn’t ready just yet to give up my precious bubbles. But I was very excited by the prospect.

So, off came the bubbles. I was standing at the shallow end. I crouched myself into a ball (or something like that), leaned forward and splashed face first. In an enormous effort, and under Laura’s constant cheering, I tried what I thought was paddling and scooping and that was it!! I was swimming! All by myself. Without floatation. Mission accomplished!! The minute I realized what I was doing though, I faltered and managed to stand up. But it was so exciting I just had to try it again! The second time around was much better. Laura is an amazing coach to work with!

Tomorrow, maybe I should try jumping into the pool. I have just one day to be as adventurous as I can be. Looking forward to my last class!

Day 10

Instructor- Laura

I started with bubbles and swam to the deep end and back once. Did not take much of a break in between. Laura suggested we try to slide in without flotation today. Towards that effort, she encouraged me to try and tread without the bubbles. I thought I might be a doable thing, like every hurdle I have been getting past. But it was not to be. I just could not tread without kicking off the floor every few seconds.

I thought maybe I could try to jump into the pool with the bubbles instead of sliding in. I hauled myself over the pool wall at 4 feet. I stood there, ignoring my beating heart and staring at the blue beneath me. I remembered to take a big breath of air and took the leap into the pool. I was expecting to dunk but I ended up standing on firm ground and felt rather silly!

We moved to the 5 feet mark and I tried it again. This time I dunked a little bit but immediately resurfaced and began to tread. This was exciting! Laura egged me on to jump from the deep end and today I did not hesitate. It was a now or never for me. Nate came along and said I should try make my feet touch the water first, not my face or my back. I wondered if there was a technique. I stood at the deep end, battling my inner demons, took a deep long breath and jumped! For a split second there, I thought I was going to hit the bottom- but I felt myself rising and broke surface soon enough. Treading was easier now than before and it was the most exciting thing I ever did.

Upon Laura’s suggestion, I decided to do away with the bubbles, pick up the guard tube instead and leaped into the deep end. It was very scary but when I surfaced much quicker than before, it felt comforting. I tried letting go of the guard tube and swimming to the wall. I can definitely say I wasn’t drowning. I managed to stay near the surface and reach the wall somehow.

Around the end of the class, I swam without any flotation, back to the shallow end! I just want to say that these past two weeks have been an amazing adventure!! And I can now swim. Without flotation. Even in the deep end. (We are not talking about for how long!)

(Receiving my certificate from Instructor Martin)

(The batch and instructors- Standing behind L-R: Cauvery, Rey, Matt, Martin, Nitin, Sridhar and Shahaida;

the front row L-R: Kelly and Laura)

General note
Instructors– The entire crew, Martin, Laura, Kelly, Matt and Nate are super fun to learn from. I have learnt some very important pool lessons from each of them.

Martin- The more courage you put into learning to swim, the better you will be at it. The more you are in the water, the lesser is the effort you will have to make to stay afloat.

Matt- Practice getting comfortable with your face in the water. Even a few seconds at a time is good. Smaller paddling movements with full length scoops of hand works better than big splashy paddling.

Kelly- To get the most out of your paddling, keep your feet pointed outwards and imagine kicking the ground downward.

Laura- The best way to stay horizontal is to slightly arch your back just enough to keep your face and feet on the surface. There is no one correct way to tread.

Powow– I don’t even know how to spell that. It is just a group thing we all do at the end of every class. Participants and Instructors share the day’s learnings, battles, efforts and challenges and most of all, we all encouraged and cheered each other, learnt from everybody and enjoyed our sessions together.

The Grand Purpose

Why I wrote this piece is because if you don’t know how to swim and you are looking to learn, look no further. And do not hesitate to take that plunge. Remember I was in your shoes 10 days ago and today I can call myself a swimmer! Albeit amateur. 🙂 If you have the right kind of instructors, learning can be so much fun. And definitely age is no bar. I am almost 3 decades old! Please go sign up for a class at the earliest! Best wishes 🙂