For sheer rhythmic exercise,there is nothing to beat the thrill of dragon-boat racing.
When my husband and I had gone to Melbourne this year,Ashish took us to meet his friends on the team. They were in the boat, and had already finished a couple of rounds when we reached the bank.We were asked whether we wanted to have a go at it.My husband was a little hesitant, since neither of us knows swimming,but I was game. If I was going to die, I told myself, I couldn't have conjured a better way.We were asked to put down our signatures on a piece of paper, which contained the signatures of all the team-members. Ashish helpfully informed us that we were, in effect, signing our lives away. Such a delight, that boy, always an epitome of sweetness and light!!!!!!!!
It was eight in the evening,bitterly cold, almost pitch black,except for pin-points of light around the jetty-and a cluster of stars watching us with cold balefulness.After some time, we got the rhythm and rowed almost as well as the rest of the team;at least, that was my fond hope.There was no useless conversation,no wasted effort;there was no need of either.Save for the splash of the oars, and a sudden rousing cheer and a snatch of song from the 65year young Gordon,there was peace and tranquility.sometimes, one of the gulls wheeling overhead would give an indignant squawk and pretend to dive-bomb us. It was like meditation, effortless,heart-felt,epiphanous.
Afterwords, we helped to pull up the boat,(or at least, tried to) to the hangar, shook hands with everyone,promised to come again, and left.
I don't think I shall ever forget that night.
And the thought that stays with me, even now is, how far all of us go, to look for peace and joy: and how accessible they really are....if only we know where to look.
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