The Swing

I remember,back in school when we had 10 minute breaks in between 40 minute class hours it was a dash out to the little park in the school backyard to take turns at swinging.The person who reached the swings first got the first turn.Others who dashed in subsequently waited for theirs.No bullying.Peaceful wait.No timers.The person on the swing had to get tired of his stunts.It was all about swinging to the greatest heights.You were a star if you recorded a good height.

Today if I feel like getting into swings,mood swings are the only option.Yeah you could ride high on them.More so with greater amplitudes.And anyone who tried hauling you over to mean position would be a victim of rarer stunts.

About a month back when I visited my school with some friends and tried using the swings again we would not fit into it.Squeezing myself into it I had looked up to see the school roof top which we in our swing-fitting sizes ,claimed to 'virtually touch' as we rode high on it.

Well.. I sound desperate enough to spend my day on a swing rather than an ergonomic office chair.Not really.If I had been,I would have put up a swing in our apartments' balcony and swung on it day and night.But would not people in neighboring flats summon fireforce to bring the girl down -from the swing- who seemed to have lost it?

Coming to the point, swinging is not a passion.But then this piece of writing was inspired by how the meaning of swinging gave way to another.Though life is not about swinging the next time you see a swing(I mean the one with ropes and a sitting thing) dont look at it with apprehension.If you can fit onto it dont miss a ride.