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| From Gulaley the pink cotton candy |
Eating junk food before the swim was my bad idea. I struggled in the pool like a half-choking engine. Food waited to become vomit as i tipped myself the wrong way.
“Abang, how did you learn to swim?”, I asked my significant other after the night’s dip.
“I just kind of jumped in the water and moved about. Friends gave lessons too”, the silhouette countered the question with a trail of mouth exhaust. It took in another puff.
Self-learning, you are your own teacher.
“If sinking is considered swimming, then i’m a gracious sinker”. That’s my reply whenever asked about my swim skills. That’s the cross product of penaakulan mantik with a sinking joker. My way of admitting i can’t swim.
A Dad-narrated swim story flashed somewhere in my brain hemispheres. Dad came to realize the preciousness of life and learn to rely on one’s self when he almost drowned, alone, in a gulf. A secret only he knew, kept for decades long. A hard-learned lesson. Poor thing.
The car rumbled away to an eatery. Supper time!
“Abang, how did you learn to swim?”, I asked my significant other after the night’s dip.
“I just kind of jumped in the water and moved about. Friends gave lessons too”, the silhouette countered the question with a trail of mouth exhaust. It took in another puff.
Self-learning, you are your own teacher.
“If sinking is considered swimming, then i’m a gracious sinker”. That’s my reply whenever asked about my swim skills. That’s the cross product of penaakulan mantik with a sinking joker. My way of admitting i can’t swim.
A Dad-narrated swim story flashed somewhere in my brain hemispheres. Dad came to realize the preciousness of life and learn to rely on one’s self when he almost drowned, alone, in a gulf. A secret only he knew, kept for decades long. A hard-learned lesson. Poor thing.
The car rumbled away to an eatery. Supper time!
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