Small smalls

on the momentary exchange between a hindu, a parsi and a bohri

Karachi is a diverse metropolitan city. I know this in theory, but because I’ve always lived here, ‘diversity’ was more just an abstract concept that I took for granted. A word that people used to describe Karachi, and I was like yeah, cool, true.

On Fridays I like to go swimming. Fridays because, diversity aside, the patriarchy still very much exists, and Friday 11am-1pm is the only daytime slot for women at the club of which I am a longtime household member. It feels like my hour of luxury, swimming on Fridays. There are no men, I let go of all self-consciousness, and the pool is usually empty. All resentments towards the makers of the rules go out the window when I think of what a privilege this little activity of mine is. This is not to say I wouldn’t fight for some changes, but I have thought about this many times, and I would rather pick my battles wisely.

Anywho. Once I got to the pool, I met the attendant who always greets me with warmth and familiarity. She commented on how I seem to only come swimming on Fridays. I said yes, because these are the only daylight hours for women, and I like my swimming in the daytime. As I began to change, another lady emerged from the shower, and we smiled at each other. She had a little tattoo on her ankle, a sight not easy to come by, and therefore I obviously saw in her a kindred spirit. She asked me if I come at ‘ladies time’ often and if it’s nice and empty like this usually, and told me that she plans to come everyday at 10am because the pool is near empty then as well. We proceeded to make a vague plan to see each other on Monday at the same time at the pool, me using her as my moral support to get over my fear (disdain) of leering men. I don’t want Friday to be the only day I’m ‘allowed’ to swim! Fuck that. For the five thousandth time.

I changed and put my swim cap on and I overheard the lady start to talk to the attendant in a language I recognized. The language was Gujarati, which I also speak, albeit not fantastically. The interesting thing about this situation was that the attendant could speak and understand Gujarati because she is Hindu, the lady because she is Parsi, and myself because I am Bohri. A combination unlikely to be found anywhere else in the world, except perhaps Mumbai in India. All three of us the minority-est of minorities in this big big country we all probably call home to some degree, accidentally thrown together in this specifically placed changing room. I pointed out this fun fact, for some reason in English because I am burger girl, and we realized we have more in common than we thought. I inside-smiled at this whole exchange and went to swim.

After getting home though, the specialness of that late morning interaction felt increasingly worthy of my appreciation. Of course every place in the world is unique etc etc, but this??? This wouldn’t happen anywhere! Chances v slim! In my current state of non-disgust for Karachi, yesterday’s moment of connection has been added to my repertoire of reasons not to hate this city so much. Given the post I wrote before leaving, it is clear to me that I am experiencing a shift in perception. How magnificent. Maybe it’s just about seeing that the small-small is actually the big-big. And life could just be a series of happy-making small-smalls.