Paper Boats

It was a windy morning in the month of August, and like every other weekend, I was sitting in my balcony reading the Sunday Times.

Taking a sip from my morning tea I looked outside, when suddenly a damp gust of wind blew past me and flipped the pages of my newspaper, and those of my memories.

It had started to rain. While people inside houses hurriedly shut the windows, pedestrians ran in search of a shelter. The morning sky rumbled and had turned a dark shade of grey. Patches of rainwater had already welled up in the uneven lane. The streets were rapidly getting deserted, when out of nowhere a little slum-boy, despite the howling winds and heavy rain came running with his paper boat, like a speck of joy in a dull rainy day.

As he sat down to sail his boat, in him I saw a little girl, who used to run out of her house after a heavy shower, and watch her boat sail through pools and puddles. Sweet old days of childhood! With a smile on his face and a twig in his hand, the little boy set his boat to sail on a journey to conquer the seven seas of the neighborhood alleyway! I smiled to myself as the boy chased his boat, laughing all the way. The little boat sailed wobbling by down the gentle slopes of the narrow lane. It had just reached a turn, when alas! A massive splash came crashing onto the little boat; a car had passed by.

The little boy’s defeated eyes followed the car, as the smile of unmatched joy got washed away from his face. The cheery chuckles had died out amidst the rumbling sky and the pouring rain, while his little boat sank below the muddy waters. With his head hung low, the disheartened boy slowly walked away from his sinking boat. He sat down in the garage of my house, quietly playing with his twig. And just like that the rainy morning was gloomy again.

I went inside the house. Rain continued to pour. About an hour later, I peeked outside the balcony again. He was still sitting there, with his head on his knees. Suddenly my childhood flashed in front of my eyes! Many monsoons ago, when the little girl was sailing in her neighborhood seas, her boat had caught up in a whirlpool of a drain hole. How devastating it was to watch her boat sink! How she had ran inside the house and cried for hours, with her face buried in her hands! It was the worst rainy day ever!

I ran downstairs and called for the boy. As he came up to me, I handed him my newspaper and said, “Make sure your boat sails better this time.” He looked at me with surprise. And what followed was pure joy! He beamed, as he took the newspaper from me, and smiled at me like no one ever did. And in that innocent smile of the little boy, I found my childhood once again, gift-wrapped in pure happiness.