| 1.5 MINUTE READ | Rinse, Repeat, Rejuvenate
It had been many weeks now. This aura of heaviness around me. Just as with lightness, it arises from nowhere. Like a dream that has come to possess me.
The mind is distracted. The exercise routine wilts. Being productive requires more effort and is less satisfying. My threshold for conversation lowers.
I let it be. Like a lamp post soaking in the rain.
The monsoons have arrived. I return home one evening, drink a bowl of soup, retire to my room on the second floor and change into my dhoti. My housekeeper Kuram calls me back downstairs. I hesitate. He says it is urgent. On the wall of my mother’s study, rising from the switchboard and upto the ceiling, is a broad trail of seeping moisture and a small army of blisters. There is no visible source. We go to the first floor above. Bone dry. Likewise, on the second floor.
We step into the verandah and climb the steep metal staircase to the terrace. It has been raining hard over the last many days. The air is stripped of dust. It is cool and unusually bright.
And there it was. On a partitioned section of the terrace above my mother’s study – a choked drain and a knee deep pool of water. A pattern of openings in the parapet wall allowed for overflow and prevented further accumulation. Through a long circuit of cracks, crevices and capillarity, it had slowly journeyed down two floors. I feel an instinctive relief at this unravelling.
I hitch up my dhoti and wade into the pool. Kuram de-clogs the drain. A slow spiral forms above it in the water. To hasten the draining, we collect buckets of grey suspension and swing it over the parapet wall. A tongue of liquid leaps forth. Seconds later, a collapsing splash from below. I fall into a rhythm. Heave. Splash. The water level gradually arrives at my ankles. I continue with the mug until I am standing on a thin film of water soaked with black dust. I scrub the floor. I feel physically involved and deeply attentive to the moment.
It begins to drizzle. I pause to feel it on my face and torso.
And then it arrived. This wave of lightness.