If you have ever made a paper boat, you should read this and if you have never made one, then you should definitely read this.
Have you ever made a beautifully crafted paper boat, preferably on a rainy day? Remembering those small puddles in the streets, I go deep into the dark cave of nostalgia where all I can see are deep memories of a time gone somewhere far behind.
And so, there is a dark cave (imagining the colour to be black) and my white paper boat contrasts in this deep cave of nostalgia.
What I can recollect from my childhood is a rainy day with dark grey clouds (if I look above) and a running stream of water (if I look below). Flooded roads and streets. Traffic jam. Drowning vehicles.
While I was coming back from school one day, a winsome visual captures my attention. I saw a small settlement- some sloppy and jumbled tin houses which were over-flooded at the right edge of the road. A group of small children were playing in the flooded streets and enjoying making paper boats.
And as I was peeping outside the window of the bus, thoughts hijack my mind which I now reflect:
Heavy rains and flooding frequently haunt the mobility of people and vehicles on the roads owing to open manholes and deep puddles. However, it is enthralling to notice how a paper boat floats on the running streams carrying the hopes and dreams of the sailor who do not even board their own boat.
Tuning in with one of the most delightful poems, Paper Boats by Rabindranath Tagore, let’s see how his paper boats float on the running streams.
Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running
stream.
In big black letters I write my name on them and the name of
the village where I live.
I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and
know who I am.
I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and
hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land
in the night.
I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the
little clouds setting thee white bulging sails.
I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down
the air to race with my boats!
When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my
paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars.
The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading ins
their baskets full of dreams.
~Rabindranath Tagore
There is some beauty in making paper boats. One paper, few folds and infinite dreams. Empty, yet so much full of life on the deck.
And so, there are countless places and things in life that appear to be deserted, abandoned, vacant, broken and unoccupied, however, it is in these very places that life resides the most.
Empty paper boats? —> Full of dreams
Empty houses? —> Full of memories
Faded memories of the past? —> Full of nostalgia
Empty vessel? —> Full of space
Broken hearts? —> Well, I’ll leave this one for you to decipher!
Thanks for Reading!
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