A story: Paper boats

A week ago, the earth was burning, fire was raining from the sky. Half-naked children were running in the streets and mohallas, calling out. 'Meh baba aaja, doodh roti khaja.' It is said that God resides in children. The children's call reached the blue umbrella sky. The clouds accepted the invitation with open heart.

Then what happened was that the lightning flashing across the dense darkness started with heavy rain and brought the rivers and streams to overflowing with torrential blows. With the blessings of the clouds, the biggest dam of Vagad (Mahi) became eager to open its gates. As soon as the news of opening all the gates of Mahi dam appeared in the newspapers, there was a rush of tourists to see the water dance of the water flowing on the dam. From the shiny cars that had come from far off places to the autos and two-wheelers, the crowd was rushing towards Mahi Dam.

From the minister, the sentry to the common family, everyone wanted to enjoy the rain and capture the beautiful view of the waterfall. The golden combination of rainwater and picnic was visible everywhere. Be it the small tea-pakodi stalls on the way to the dam or the villagers selling hot corn on the roadside, there was a queue of buyers everywhere. Then suddenly a shiny car stopped near a corn stall. Seeing the aura-filled plate of a senior officer on the car, other people automatically stepped back.

Sahib's children felt like eating hot corn. Mem and children also wanted to get down from the car and enjoy this in the light rain. A middle-aged rural woman was roasting corn. The smell of corn cobs was spreading from the flame of her brazier, protecting it from wind and water. Nearby, her half-naked teenage child was decorating colourful paper boats. Sahib had asked for ten hot corn cobs. That village woman promptly gave him the corn cobs which her children started eating while standing on the roadside.

When Sahib was about to leave after paying the money, that teenage boy offered his paper boats. Sahib waved his hand to say 'no', my children do not play with these boats. Then the village woman broke her hesitation and said - Sahib! Sir, there is no money for these boats. My son Ramu happily gives these to everyone, he makes them with great hard work. Sahib, if you do not take them, he will cry in sadness. Sahib- Bai, what is the matter? Rural woman - Sahib! Years ago, when this dam was being built, my family member used to come here in search of work.

Sometimes he would return home after two days or sometimes after four days. When I asked him if he got any work, he would say he was trying. Those days I was pregnant and this Ramu was in my womb. Then once it rained heavily for fifteen days continuously, my father did not come, so I got worried. After the rains stopped, I took my father to every office of Mahi Dam and met every officer. He could not be found anywhere. The answer I got was where did he work, with which boss? From that time to today he has not returned.

Whether the sky ate him up or he got washed away in the Mahi river, nothing is known. This child of mine who remains sad in the memory of his father still gives paper boats to people in the hope that someday my father will return by some boat. Sir! Keep it just to keep him happy. The boss kept all his boats in the car and patted the child's back, but the Mahi river had overflowed in both his eyes.

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