A girl who bathed in the water tank

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I smile as I unravel a big bundle of memories, and there's this one that's stuck in my head like glue.  I was born in the heart of Tamilnadu, in the bustling city of Chennai down in South India. But my growing-up days were a whole different story. I found myself in Nellai, a charming town cozied up near the coastal tip of Cape Comerin.  My hometown Nellai was a green paradise, surrounded by lush paddy fields that stretched out like a vibrant carpet. Our neighborhood homes, standing in a neat row, are like the eager audience to this natural masterpiece. I had a bunch of pals the mischief brigade. 

I am connected to one of them by FB. She lives in Dubai, well settled. But back in the day, we were unstoppable in our little neighborhood. We'd conquer the terraces of anyone who'd let us. My turn came, and I ushered two of my friends to my massive terrace. The building was about 30 feet tall. There, in the corner, a water tank covered by a hefty slab of concrete. The tank was attached to the parapet. 

Guess what we did? Yep, we yanked that concrete off, and in no time, we were standing neck-deep in the tank. Cool still waters yaar. It was like our private sunbathing spot, considering we never set foot in a fancy swimming pool. My neighborhood homes were palacious but did not host any pools inside. That was not in the customs. We girls were allowed to take part in other sports activities like throw-balls, and volleyball in schools but not swimming. The conservative societal set up was like that. It was only meant for the boys and men.

But my dad's car driver spotted us in the water tank, next thing we knew, the security guard was on the terrace. The security guard and my neighborhood families were always at the loggerheads over his late coming, and work habits. He never used to smile or greet.

We made a speedy, soggy escape downstairs, he had come closer holding a bunch of coconut sticks that were taken from the coconut tree's leaves to make a broom. I ran to the room to change and appeared calm as though nothing happened. Could I have told anyone? My granddad, my grandmom, grandma's older sister? left right and center,No. That night I saw my back in the mirror it was singing a different tune a bit like an old tape recorder with a dying battery, imperfect crescendo, and all. 

What did I see in the mirror? latitudes and longitudes. The lines of a Pakka India map- from  kashmir to Capecomerin. Those were the coconut broom -swatting, terrace-dipping, unforgettable Indian days.  The broomsticks for outdoor purposes were made from the spines of the long coconut trees's leaves. I have spotted many tribals and gypsies making them and selling the bundles to people. Very efficient! durable. Who knew those would mark lines on a teenager.

In today's digital age, folks love sharing every bit of their lives on social media with loads of pictures and videos. Seeing followers soar and like to shoot up brings pure joy, making it seem like everything is all sunshine and rainbows when they're online.

Real life is a whole different story for many. Behind the screens, some folks feel pushed to the sidelines, battling boredom and an empty feeling, especially when tangible friends are in short supply. Come the next day, it's the same old routine. No matter how hectic life gets, there's something special about holding onto the simple joys. Take a moment to relish the good times, like those childhood adventures with buddies. In those moments, laughter drowns out the ticking of the clock, reminding us that life's true treasures go beyond the digital world.

Taco Turtle boasts: Whoa! what a pity, had I been there, I would have gathered an army of  notorious biters of my kind (snappers) to stop the grumpy man whacking you. I am not joking. I am shell serious.

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 25 ⏰

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