Paper Dreams

My first tryst with origami was when I made paper boats as a kid. I didn't even know there was a word for the art of making boats (or any other thing) out of paper back then. I don’t remember who taught me how to make a paper boat – some things you become so familiar with, you'd assumed you've always known them. But I think it came from one of those cool things a friend at school showed you during recess or between periods and everybody would get curious and learn to do it too. Then we would all go home, do it again, show our parents, and keep doing it for a week or so until we lost interest.

The backyard of my old house had a cement path running from the backdoor to the drumstick tree in a rectangle. So when it rained heavily, water would get logged in between, forming a little pool. That’s when I would make the boats and put them in the muddy water even if it’s still raining. I’d make at least 2 or 3 so I could be sure at least one of them would float – they mostly “capsized” and floated sideways either when the paper got too wet or raindrops smashed into them.

Years later, and really, really long after I got bored of making boats, I saw Prison Break in one of those finish-a-TV-show-in-2-days-or-less marathons that was a popular hobby in college. Apart from the unforgettably brilliant story, what really amazed me was the symbolic use of origami by the protagonist, Michael Scofield, a habit that he actually picked up from his elder brother (whom he tries to break out of prison):

“After Mom died, when it was just you and me, I remember having trouble sleeping, never knowing where you were, but when I'd wake up in the morning there'd be this paper bird, an origami crane sitting next to my bed and I never knew what it meant exactly, but I figured it was your way of letting me know you were checking in on me. Anyway, I looked it up, the crane, stands for familial obligation, watching out for your own. Maybe it's my turn to watch out for you.”

He would also make paper lilies to impress his lady love and prison doctor, Sara Tancredi. The whole idea was so romantic and appealed to me so much, I would frequently look up the internet and learn to do something like a crane or butterfly or a flower out of 3 or 4 square inches of paper and give them to close friends, not necessarily on special occasions. It’s a nice way to let someone know they’re special to you. It’s also amazing how a plain plane piece of paper could capture your imagination in a multitude of ways.

Friendship over the years

School years: If there was a new kid in class, I used to make it a point to go up to him or her and purposely make friends. I wasn’t very choosy back then and there wasn’t any reason to. Making new friends was so easy. It was a class thing – we all just stuck together. I still have friends dating back to a long time ago but I’m not in touch with so many others. I guess its because “life happened”.

College years:  I made friends who I know will be there for me and I will care for life-long. There were some I didn’t take to so much in the first year but became thick friends with by the time we left. And the concept of a class drastically changed. There were people who haven’t spoken a word to each other during even a single moment in those four years. Though we did manage to have a little fun as farewell drew closer, looking back, most of them are still strangers to me! It wasn’t that we were too shy… Just our pre-conceived notions of one another and the choices we made.

Now: I made friends with total strangers on a social networking site, even exchanged numbers and talked to them. Mostly because I’m relocating to a new city and don’t know anyone there. And so far, it has been a grand success! My parents are amazed. Heck, even I’m amazed. Though this was something to dream of in my parents’ time, I admit I was (and still am, though diminishing everyday) apprehensive of this new venture. But I can’t wait to connect the voices and the words to the actual faces!

The last time we got a Telegram…

It was to tell us that grandfather had passed away. Me and my sister were just little kids and hardly got to know him well. It wasn’t a surprise though when they recently  announced in the paper that it would be the last day for Telegram service in India. We’d actually laughed about it – everyone has a phone nowadays allowing us to text or call someone at any time and at ridiculously low rates too, rather than send a telegram to someone "HELLO STOP URGENT NEWS STOP" only when you have something important to communicate to a far-off friend or family.

I wonder how many years the Postal Service would last. I guess we still need it, though only to send stuff larger than page-long letters which would rather be delivered easily with a mouse click only to lie unopened in the inbox along with other junk mail from shopping sites and educational services until you delete your way through them to find it (Google’s priority inbox magically solved that too, but I still get ETS emails in my primary inbox). People say there is a certain charm in posting a letter to someone.  It’s somewhat the same reason why I insist on making birthday cards myself instead of buying them. It doesn’t take much effort to throw in some fancy words and send someone an e-mail . But when you make the effort to fill in your words with ink, seal it in an envelope, glue a stamp to it and go all the way to the post office to post it, it says something about the lengths you would go to reach out to someone. What’s more, people don’t even to reply to e-mails nowadays. Everyone’s just too busy coping with life. It matters to show the people you care about that they are your numero uno priority. And that can be done by spending the “little” time you have on them.

Maybe in the not too distant future, private companies like Safe Express will pop up everywhere and suddenly sending even “stuff larger than page-long letters” would become a lot cheaper. Then the call for the close of Postal Service would come because it’d be too burdensome to maintain when no one’s even using it. They’ll put a copy of the last letter ever sent in a museum and we would tell our kids “Once upon a time, there were letters”.

Faces with Stories

I always find travel inspiring. For a short while you're thrust into the company of people you've never met but who make the same journey as you. There is no exchange of words or greetings and they get on and off at some point without a hi or bye. Sometimes there may be the occasional conversation - about the weather, the traffic, the slow driver, the destination you're headed and so on. But at the end of it all your fellow traveller would remain a nameless stranger. So on a long journey when no urgent matters worry the mind one sometimes can't help sitting  back and wondering what their story was... What brought them here? What is their life really like?

In school, when I took the city bus home every afternoon, there was a college-going girl who took the same bus and got down two stops before me. She had a brace on her leg and everyone used to make way so she could go in first and sit in the front seat. One day I happened to sit along with her. I'm sure she noticed me as much as I did everyday so I decided to make conversation. In my innocence, I asked her how she hurt her leg. "No I didn't get hurt, I have polio," she smiled and replied. I realised my mistake and said I was sorry. But I went on to ask her where she lived and what she studied and we talked until she got down at her stop. And from that day on, we smiled at each other whenever we met and bid goodbye when she got down the bus. Eventually due to extra classes or some other reason I used to arrive late at the bus stop and didnt see her for a while. Then a whole year passed and I decided she must have left college and settled elsewhere. I don't remember what her name was but I wonder about her sometimes... if her life changed as much as mine did..

Another thing that I always try, especially in a train (when I'm not dozing off), is 'guessing the story' - the clothes, luggage and scraps of conversation often provide sufficient detail. A chattering family off to a wedding or piligrimage, a gentleman with light luggage wearing a leather jacket and checking his phone every few minutes is obviously travelling on business, a girl with her anxious parents going to attend her first day in college in a faraway city (deja vu :P) and rarely, a couple of very cooperative students on a holiday tour. The others like the chai-wala, moori-wala, the woman selling bananas.. their 'story' seems obvious on the outside but one day of their life would be so.. different.. and detached.. from ours. And yet here we are, on the same journey and we will not see each other again.

There are no limits to human curiosity.. And after going through my ramblings above, I wondered.. There are strangers whose stories we may never know. But sometimes even people we are close to surprise us.. So much so that we are left to question if we ever knew their 'story' at all...

Forgotten Things

The other day, while searching for a bottle to keep my collection of shells, I remembered that it might be in the box that contained all my playthings. With help from my mom, I located it in my dad's room where it sat in a corner below the cupboard, forgotten, and collecting dust. I opened it, and there they all were - a chessboard with pieces (that was really old and probably belonged to my grandfather), a Ludo and Snakes & Ladders board, Scrabble, coins for the carrom board, a ring to play catch with (like frisbee), a pack of cards and a set of marbles (to play that brainteaser game in which you are supposed to have one marble left at the end). And of course there was the empty 'Gems' tube, which seemed apt for my requirement (now when I think about it, its probably more than 5 years old! - I have the habit of leaving such odd things lying around...).

I sighed... They brought back so many memories. Those were the treasures of my school years -  every summer vacation, when it was too hot to step outside, me and my sister would enjoy many hours playing indoor games. Snakes and ladders was a favourite (it was especially fun when playing with 'sound effects', whenever one went up a ladder or was gobbled by a snake). Those wonderful days seem so far away now... Its been years since I've actually played or even touched any of those games!

But I did not let my find that day go to waste... And now I can say I've become re-addicted to Scrabble ;)

A Lesson in Fishing

I consider myself lucky to be living on the coast. For me the sea is a wonderful friend, tranquil and breathtaking, but unpredictable, even fearsome at times... Its magnificence and fury both add to its alluring nature.

Today was a good day to be out at sea (being a weekday there was less chance of noisy crowds) and that's just what me and my buddies did. The pleasant weather and the cool-but-not-chilly water were perfect for our evening picnic. Just as we ventured into the water near a couple of precarious looking rocks, we noticed two small boys - one with a polythene bag and the other with a plastic bottle, running farther into the sea, not far from us. It did not take long for us to figure out that they were catching fish. Our curiosity was fulfilled when we asked them.

"Emi chestanuru?" (What are you doing?)

"Chapalu patukuntunamu akka! (We are catching fish, sister!) " one of them replied. "Chusthara? (Will you see?) " he volunteered. While Subba and Rajeev sat on dry rocks to keep themselves from getting wet, me and Anu followed the two boys to get a closer look at their seemingly interesting hobby. When the waves came in, they would wait in places where water got trapped between the rocks. Sometimes, one or two tiny fish would also be trapped, and thats when one of them, polythene  bag in hand, would take his chance. If they were lucky, they would transfer the fish into the plastic bottle.

They had caught only one fish today, a small white one with black stripes. What will you do with them, I asked. "Penchukuntamu, akka (We will keep them as pets)," the boy replied, grinning. Climbing the rocks quickly and with agility, they led us to show other pools among the rocks where they caught fish. And while exploring, we came to know that they were studying in a school nearby. One of the boys, who was the more talkative of the two, didn't seem to understand why I was collecting pebbles and shells nestled in between the rocks. I think he obviously thought it silly to collect inanimate objects like shells and a duller hobby than collecting fish.

Later, noticing our enthusiasm, they asked us if we actually wanted the fish. Now, Anu already had a fish bowl at home and I am going to leave Vizag in a week, and there really is no other person in my household who may be interested in taking care of the fish (if I got them). So we declined the offer and asked them to take care of the fish, even though they pestered us (even whispering to one another whether to sell it to us for 5 or 10 rupees :) ). They were still there, running among the waves, after we played in the sand for a while and decided to leave when it was getting dark.

I despise those two boys and their freedom, but I'm also happy for them... For these would be part of their many lovely memories of the Sea that would remain with them as they grow up.. And so this would be for me too..

The Ocean, mighty and full of life, never fails to enthrall.. :)

Yaadein...

December. The month brings with it many a reason to celebrate... and for folks like me, it also brings a ton of memories, whose magic would continue to be a source of great joy for many years on...

Having studied in a Christian school, for all of us kids, December would mean Christmas – and of course, a long, fun-filled vacation. But the whole month leading up to the closing for the holidays, it would be full of preparations for the final day – the whole school would assemble in the play-ground to watch the Birth of Jesus enacted on stage, accompanied by a choir who would burst into song for the appropriate scenes. Since 5^th, I’d been part of the school choir – and that would mean, for the entire December, we would stay back after school hours, sometimes even until dark, rehearsing the Christmas carols. Our “Singing Sir”, as we called him, was a wonderful but strict man – he would make us repeat the same line until we got it right, no matter how frustrating it got. He always came up with beautiful background scores for the carols every year – and the credit really goes to him for making us enjoy singing for Christmas; we were always eager to put in an extra hour for practising because we liked it... Of course, there was a Santa Claus too after the whole show was over (it was usually one of our Physical Education teachers :P) distributing chocolates to everyone before we got back to class; but usually we had little or no classes that day as we would all be going home for the vacation anyway.

Looking back at those times now, I miss it all... I want it to happen all over again – at least, all the good parts of those times. But I guess life has its short and sweet moments... it’s up to us to enjoy them to the fullest and take back with us memories to live with for a lifetime...