Go take a Bath

They call my hydrophobic just because I don’t take bath so often. There was a day when my mother used to run after me just to make me take a bath.

Nowadays, I don’t have anyone to run after me or I don’t run away from anyone else because it’s just me and my body making this world. I imagine that the world would never be the same without me or without my so-called hydrophobic nature. I keep saying my friends, see these five fingers. What if all of them were thumb? How weird would that look? So is the case with me as well. I am different from others but that doesn’t make me a weird one out but gives me a different value with its own importance and a role.

They laugh and giggle at me listening to my talks. They are all just a banal talk to them. I don’t feel sorry for me but feel sorry for them that they don’t understand what I meant to say. I am neither a hydrophobic nor a person who doesn’t want to take a bath. I feel like taking a bath once in a while but the only thing that doesn’t let me is: I forget to take bath. I mean I don’t necessarily keep this event in my mind as I keep other events which include eating, sleeping or even going to the school. It’s just that I am forgetful and don’t regard this event as the one that should be on my mind every day and every moment.

I remember this moment. I was lying in my bed reading “The Tale of Two Cities”. I was reading the lines of Dickens and resembling his thoughts with mine. Well, a knock in my room couldn’t distract me from all my imagination. It did require a gentle shake. I saw her standing right in front of me. She had just taken a bath. I could smell the aromatic shampoo that she had used to wash her hair. I asked her to sit down just beside me. I took her strand of hair and took it close to my nose and smelled it. It smelled good. I don’t know what she was thinking; probably she was making fun of me. I could see her smiling; a faint smile; a smile which symbolized awkwardness.

 It’s not like I haven’t seen anyone taken bath or come out of bath. It’s just that she had different kind of intimacy towards me. Her eyes said me to go take a bath; get all the thoughts out of my mind for instance if possible.

I remembered the last time I had taken bath. I said to myself it wasn’t that bad. She probably heard me murmuring. She pursed her lips and frowned. I took my nose near to her head. She exclaimed and with a gentle slap she said; “You smell like a pig.” For me that was like an appreciation, as being a pig was my goal.

I had this thought on my mind “While there are other animals living their life in present playing with nature, we humans are the only one who spends half of our life playing with ourselves; our nostrils, our body, our hair just to make sure we fit in the society. Just to make sure we please others with the perfume we carry on our body. We no longer take the thing called intelligence into consideration.

We are carried away by one’s dress, by one’s look, by one’s complexion, by one’s perfume, by one’s jewelries.” I don’t mean to say that you should be as stinking as you can. But my only view is that one should remain within their limit of making themselves a clown with all those cosmetics that you get these days. With all these thoughts I looked her straight into her eyes and asked her what was it like to be a pig in the world of clowns all around you? She smiled and left me with three words to think about, “Oh! You pig.” Well, I said thank you.

I have this habit of taking a stroll around the park every evening. I was out for a walk. I saw all those flowers blooming right in front of me and just across the blossomed flowers, I could see the other flowers which were about to die. They were turning brown. One of the women walked by me to those flowers and pours the bucket of water from the top. I walked home and I found myself under the shower with the water flowing from my head to feet.