Friday, July 30

My paper boats...

It takes very little effort to make paper boats. All it takes is to pull out a paper from any of the notebooks, fold it hurriedly and launch the boat sailing in the rainwater. The boat sails... tossing through the torrent flow. It takes only a little time to wet herself. Soon, it is time to sink...and sinks away she is.

The child and his paper boat is a microcosm of life itself. A paper boat afloat reminds me of an important joy: that of an achiever. It is not a boat that he has really set a sail. It is the little dream of a child that has set a sail. Nevertheless, the little child also knows that his Paper boat dream will not last long. Doesn’t matter. Even the dream of a rocket scientist may not last longer than that of a paper boat sailor. So, it is ok. Another joy of the setting paper boat sail is to see how it will negotiate the monsoon water channels. Often, the child follows his paper boats along the torrent flow....The little sailor assists his boats to journey a little longer.

Sometimes, I used to colour the boats with wax crayons and watch the coloured boats float away. Often the boat doesn’t carry any name. Today, the little nameless paper boats that have passed away, remind me of many things in my life that has come and gone without names. Yes, many a things in life really doesn’t take any name in my heart. That too is a part of life.

Sometimes, the boat is loaded... loaded with paper balls or wild flowers. Guess what happens with that earthly load. Does all of it sinks away to nothingness?  Or, Is the child gifting the fairies his little dreams?  A poet will speak of the flowers and the fairies. Others will see the nothingness of the paper boat. Sometimes a poet, sometimes ‘others’, I see both.

Coming home, my mother discovers the missing pages in my notebooks. She scolds me... scolds me for playing in the rain and for all the missing pages. Then, like another rain in the monsoon, I listen to her scoldings and dream... dream of all the boats that I have set a sail. 
As the cool rainy night ends another paper boat day...
as I watch the starless cloudy sky calling me to slumber, I lay with my head on my pillow and dream of all the distant lands my paper boat would sail... 
all the mighty waters it would glide and one day, together with my mother, laugh at the paper boat dreams.


I dedicate ‘My Paper Boats’ for my school days’ friends, 
many of them with names, some without...
many of them with colours, some without... 
who have all set their own sails into the torrent waters called life.