when parvati was eleven years old she received a top-of-the-range pair of goggles for her birthday from her kind and giving parents. the afternoon of her birthday she was taken to her local swimming pool in olsanke namesti, close to where she lived in zizkov, praha. parvati, at that period of her life, was swimming at least twice a week; consequently she had contracted a verrucae (a wart of the foot) on her big toe. she covered this with a plaster to be hygienic.
you are the wart on the foot of society
as parvati sped up and down the swimming pool and her mother flirted with the lifeguard, the plaster, failing in it’s quest to protect the other swimmers from her fungal infection, flapped wildly in the water. breaking free from parvati’s big toe, the plaster sunk towards the bottom, nestling amongst the green tiles which lined the pool.
…tiny nerve endings tingled on parvati’s big toe, gigantic electrical charges flew up her legs and spine, her brain glowed with the explosion of chemical reactions, messages broke speed limits to skip across synapses and before she knew what had come over her parvati was following the arc of the plaster, her brand new goggles lighting up the chlorine mist like car headlights on a foggy night…
be the change you want to see
!boom! the foundations of the society of the cynical shook, as parvati seized her infectious plaster and sprung back to the surface.
!wallop! the top dogs of the WTO each took life threatening blows to the head as parvati, like a girl possessed, fought back down under the surface and scooped an escaped plaster which had fallen from swimmer in her sweet sweet hands, saving countless others from evenings of cream and files.
!bang! alarm Bells rang in the offices of brown, merkel and paroubek, as parvati’s lungs, full of pure and giving air, once again swept away the cobwebs spun in the lairs of the G8 and left even more swimmers free to return home unsullied by the problematic world of foot warts.
parvarti never entered the ‘ms praha bikini comp’, but if she had, she could would have won
she was shiva the destroyer and brahma the creator; with the innocent hands of an eleven year old she cleaved the heads off the necks of greed and hugged all swimming pool goers world wide: she planted a sloppy saliva-full kiss on the lips of a reawoken community.
every week for the next three months, parvati collected the verrucae filled plasters from the swimmers of her local pool. she even started taking little plastic bags so she could secretly and safely collect many plasters and sneak them out of the pool.
then one day her parents announced that they were splitting up. she moved with her mother to a new house outside of prague. the town had no swimming pool. she no longer performed this secret social good.
however throughout her life parvati continued to collect societies plasters; one day she saw a beautiful girl, splattered in paint hanging from a balcony calling for help as she was trapped inside the apartment and had no phone, she made the call but then disappeared as she had no desire to receive the thanks and praise of the people she had helped.
it could be the future or could it be that…
this is the end?
last night she had a dream: parvati was stooping to pick up a rubbish bin blown over by the wind in a street far from her home, a group of people passed her and laughed, ‘what are you doing messing around with other people’s bins’ they called.
she died of a broken heart; she never woke up.