It takes me ten minutes to get to the closest beach, and one minute to get to the closest Wewa (Lake, for those of you who don’t know) from where I live. Despite this, I haven’t gone sea bathing or Wewe-Nanna in a LONG time.

It’s the eternal fear that my parents have, of me being washed off to sea (This fear is not a result of the 2004 Tsunami, but is way older than that), and the fear that I might either drown or catch some incurable disease from the Wewa.

A note about the Wewa. The name of my village, Mahawewa, meaning great-lake, comes from (What used to be) the lake. It looks a bit like a playground now, with a thick layer of some water plant or the other covering most of it. And most of the bathing spots are occupied during sane times, with Diyaredi clad womenfolk, and a gentleman does not bathe where Diyaredi clad womenfolk are bathing.

So a combination of all these factors has kept me away from bathing in the Sea, and the Wewa. This is not to say that I don’t go to the Sea, I do quite a bit. But that is limited to either photographing the sunset, looking at distant boats, sending Ahas Kooru or collecting seashells and comparing them to women. Ever notice the similarities? The perfect ones are too small, or someone manages to pick it up the moment you spot it, and you’re left with rest. Nonetheless, you come home clutching them in your fist, loving each moment of it.

Coming back to large bodies of water, I had the rare privilege of going Wewe Nanna last weekend. Met up with two of my friends for a chat, and while we were casually talking, the topic of the lakes and seashells came up. It was one of those spur of the moment things, and we decided to go for it. It was around six-thirty when we got there, and it was shape eke getting dark, but it was all worth it.

Getting into the dark and warm waters, watching the sun set, getting your blood sucked out by mosquitoes above the water line, getting pieces of you bitten off by fish below the waterline, and talking of memories past. No soap, no towel to dry yourself, no change of clothes till you get home. It was awesome.

And the best thing is, the perfectly arranged beaches of the five star resorts, the supposedly natural pools of eco-lodges, or the acres of immaculately maintained swimming pools? They can’t even come close.