Skip to main content

My First Swimming Lesson

I found it strange
how men swam in the pool
without seeming to feel
even a tad bit uneasy
about their less than perfect bodies,
hairy,
dark,
with proud paunches
wearing a swimsuit
that was nothing more than a boxer
While I,
Another Imperfect Woman,
Shivered in my suit,
Wondering if more than my contours were visible,
Even though it was dark,
Even though the swimsuit covered
what's "necessary to cover".


My first swimming lesson
And instead of feeling proud
for having dared,
for having tried,
A Million Thoughts
crossed my fearful mind.


The fat belly.
The fat arms.
Hairy armpits.
Sunburns.
Chlorine.
Shape.
Shame.


Thighs too flabby.
Hips too large.
Hold your breath.
Keep your head down.
Pull the suit's edges
Let it cover some more skin.
I need to wax.
I need to look thin.


My first swimming lesson
And before feeling
the fear of water
I felt shame.


And if perfection is the need
only for women.
Oh, I tell you, it's a disease
that brings nothing but shame.


So, as my feet touched the water beneath,
To kill the shame, to feel free
I realized what I really, really need.
I needed not to burn calories,
Nor a little waxing.
All I really needed
Was to not think.

Courtesy: Pinterest

Comments

  1. Such a superb work you have done, we want you to share more and we also want you to know about most romantic city of the world and Blog of Udaipur , Get info about Udaipur Tourism, Udaipur Hotels, Udaipur News, Udaipur Taxi Booking and Udaipur Lifestyle.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hiii, Really nice. I'm planning to visit udaipur and experience the scenic beauty, beautiful lakes and luxurious stay at modern palace hotels in udaipur and have lifetime memorable travel experience.

    ReplyDelete
  3. As I see it, I want to look like Michael Phelps in the pool but then the imagery is always of a walrus :D. Its part of the learning that perfection is a myth because the true effort needed for perfection is too time consuming and most times not worth the effort :).

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Self-Help Book

He slicks his dark black hair back with his fingers. Outside, it was broad daylight, offering his dark brown eyes a view of the western part of the city. The neighboring tall buildings remind him he is on the 22nd floor of his workplace. He finishes off the remnants of his black coffee, already cold by now. The half-smoked cigarette burns out on the ashtray. He pulls the ropes of his French window and his cabin is no longer reminded of the world outside.
 He turns his swivel chair with the support of his desk to face a laptop in front of him that wastes no time in taking him to another world altogether. The white striped shirt he is wearing with his dark grey tie match the colors on the back of his laptop that flaunt the initials “S. R.”.
* An unexpected knock on her door wakes Sheena up from her siesta. She reaches for the yellow dupatta lying carelessly on the other side of the bed, as if it was equally tired from the previous day’s work. She wears the dupatta around her neck cove…

The Boy in the Train

"You'll always be late for the previous train, and always on time for the next.” 
― Piet Hein

I rejoice whenever I get a window seat on Indian trains whenever it’s a chair car (otherwise Upper Berth would be my spot), more so when it is the last seat near the door, usually marked 4. There’s always more legroom for those who get the last seat. The TTE (Train Ticket Examiner) sits in the same seat on the other column, marked 1, which feels quite safe for a single woman traveller. When I need to leave my seat for a short break, it’s the TT (in short for TTE) who would watch over my luggage. When I need to ask how delayed the train was, it was again the TT, my neighbour for the journey.
However, sitting near the TT comes with other experiences too apart from the sense of security. There would be travellers without a ticket, looking for a vacant seat, who would sit on the TT’s seat itself pretending it’s theirs and later being laughed at, when busted. There would be people coming t…

Atrocity in a Smart-City - Bhubaneswar

Related Post - Atrocity in a Metro City - Hyderabad
I haven’t had a decent cup of tea in a long time – the kind that refreshes you within seconds. Bhubaneswar has no dearth of tea stalls that do not shy in putting enough milk in the cup. However, the hot weather doesn’t allow one to drink as many cups of tea as one would have while living in Guwahati.
After the third cup of the day, I feel nauseas. And when tea isn’t there to sweep you off your worries, everything else starts bothering you.
When I first landed in the city last year in September I was impressed by how the cabs arrive just minutes after you’ve booked one, how the roads are free of potholes in the major parts of the city, how the highway helps me travel anywhere in twenty minutes even when I live a little outside of the main city.
Perceptions do not take long to change and I am now often reminded of the quote in Sanskrit that says दूरस्थाःपर्वताःरम्याः – the hills look lovely but only from a distance.For when you see t…