When I was a kid, during my kindergarten & 1st standard times, I was close friends with a boy named Saravanan. We used to do paper craft together. One of the exotic models was that of a flying boat. It looks like a usual paper boat but has two wings projecting from the center. I learned the steps from Saravanan. I remember the procedure more as a journey, with every crease and fold, a new adventure in the journey that leads to a destination where the boat will be waiting for me, to fly up and away to a limitless beyond. There are several ways to fold in some steps, with only one of those options that takes me a step closer to the flying boat. In my mind it's more like forking pathways in the journey, if I do not choose the right one, I will not reach to the flying boat, but to some other weird looking structure.
Luckily, back then, I had a travel companion in this journey: Saravanan. We used to tread together, him leading the way and choosing the right path. After walking the same path together a few times, I was able to do it by myself without his company.
I moved to a new city, new school and new friends. Too young and too technologically limited, I couldn't keep in touch with my old school friends. But, whenever I made the flying boat, I used to feel that Saravanan was with me, that our friendship was still going on. This has been the case with each aspect of my learning and being, reminding me of someone or some moment in my past. It's like, as I walk through life, I break away little crumbs from people and moments, and glue those crumbs onto me so that it becomes a part of me.
But with time, I forgot the right path. I was never able to find my way back to the flying boat again. As I grew up, I learnt origami which opened door to a lot of exotic and difficult adventures, but the flying boat still remains an unfulfilled journey. Even today, In my mind, I am lost somewhere, having taken a wrong turn too many, lonely, scared and wishing Saravanan was with me. I've not just lost my way to the flying boat, but also to the innocence of childhood, to simpler yet creative times and to the magic of growing up!
My dear flying boat, will I find my way to you again? Or will I just wither away, enacting an adult in this adult world?
Oh Saravanan! wherever you are, please come with your flying boat and rescue me, teach me the magic again!
Google will help me make a paper flying boat, but alas, it cannot help me regain everything else the flying boat stands for! The journey remains unfinished...