Taking A Dip

All seemed a little unfamiliar at first. Where were the ticket machines? Where was the cashier in case I needed change for the locker? Then, the memory floated back into my mind, that I still had a flight of concreted stairs before reaching the pools and the turnstiles, putting my heart at ease; for a while I thought the Queenstown swimming complex has closed down.

The place holds tons of my childhood memories, so I have always found myself reasons for a visit. On this day, I could have gone to the pool in Clementi, but I had made up my mind mostly on sentimental value. And there was the library nearby.

You can see part of a football field and the running tracking around it, where a practise or warm up was on-going with a few early evening joggers. The top of the stairs opened up to the main competition-size pool on my right. There was hardly anyone swimming, which was just as well. Straight ahead, the remaining three pools lie. Music hung softly in the air, coming from the life guards’ radio, who gathered at a patch of green under the shade of trees, waiting for darkness to fall and their work to end.

The sparrows were finding their way home, collectively emitting loud sharp cries as I re-appeared in my trunks. The sky had darkened to a thin grey with a slight evening breeze combing the water surface ever so calmly. Welcome home, to where I truly belong, to where my heart becomes one. I just needed some affirmations, as it had been some time – 3 months to be precise.

Throwing myself into the cooling water, I wondered for a moment whether I had lost it. But somehow, like fish to water, without much thought, I straightened my arms in front, pressing my right hand downwards next, then lifting it elbow first above water. Legs kicking, the left arm mirrored the right, one after the other. The pool seemed to speak and breathe in its own language, and I struggled to comprehend – a futile effort. But I thrilled to its warmth and hospitality.

The tiny waves and bubbles washed away my weariness and pains, emptying my mind and renewing it. New ones came in, only to face a similar fate. Then, some more…

The floodlight came on, and the pool bed – every inches of it – transformed, with disco-dancing, delirious blue spheres the size of my palm, all whirling with radiant light and delight. My spirit lifted, as if I were part of this enchanting fairy tale or an ancient Greek mythology. And if I were to remain in the pool long enough, a mermaid might just come along…