The Rainy Day When I Forgot To Make A Boat

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted. I’ve got a LOT of stuff going on. It’s a period of learning new things, relearning old things, and the most difficult of all, waiting. I never rated myself high on patience anyway, but this has been the ultimate test.

Today was an idle day for a change. And a heavenly one; the rains look beautiful from our windows! I happened to be home from university. It was nice sitting with my parents, quietly, enjoying the rains.

raindrop

There were children playing in the little water puddles. Looking at them, I suddenly sat up, thinking.

“What happened?” my mother asked.

A few seconds later I replied.

“I’ve forgotten how to make a boat!”

You know the ones; origami boats that we used to make in school. The ones we put in the water puddles during the rains.

Getting hold of some paper, I immediately started making one. I couldn’t see the steps in my mind at once, but my hands remembered. I guess this is one of the things that is like riding a bicycle; you don’t forget.

“Turns out I do remember how to make a boat.” I grinned at my mother.

I suppose this could have been the point where my mother told me to stop being ridiculous and grow up. Ha! She taught me how to make a ship! 🙂

boat

 

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You Lied, Mother

‘Leaving the Nest’ by Siobhan Knox

You lied, Mother.

You said it will be easy.

You said the world was a beautiful place to grow up.

 

You pushed me gently out

Coaxing me to go a little more,

Just a little further on the branch.

You told me not to be afraid

As the wind swayed me about.

You lied, Mother.

You said I will not fall.

 

I took off, nearly toppling,

In what was a miserable attempt at flight.

The nest seemed so far off,

Its thought itself so cozy.

You told me to enjoy the sunlight on my face.

You lied, Mother.

You said the world was warm.

 

You said I will not fall.

I fell many times,

Hard on my face, flat on my back.

You said the world was warm.

It cold-shouldered me,

Its tragedies chilled my bone.

Why did you lie, Mother?

 

The world keeps telling me

That each time I fell, I failed.

It keeps reminding me of my bloodied nose,

Of my injured, drained body.

Is that why you lied, Mother?

So that I would be unable to see

My falls as my failures?

 

The world keeps closing its doors

Leaving me out in snowy, wintry days.

It teases me by lighting fires far from my reach.

Evoking desires of what is not mine.

Is that why you lied, Mother?

To give me this gift

Of warm satisfaction with my flight?

 

Your lies have made me blind.

Your lies have made me strong.

You lied, Mother, but I forgive you.

Five Words

Day #6 of Blogtember.

Tuesday, September 10: Describe a distinct moment when your life took a turn.

Though it is extremely difficult to define life in a few moments, this one particular moment definitely marked the start of something new, big and important.

School was over. The entrance exams were done too. Results were declared and I was accepted to the university of my choice.

This is what my mother said when she came to leave me in the hostel.

dream

I’m not going to claim that these words changed everything, or that a light bulb suddenly flicked on over my head. I did not have a sudden vision of clarity over what exactly my dreams were, or how to go about fulfilling them. I made mistakes, of course. I had various cringe-worthy moments (still have them). There were various missed opportunities. But still…

Go and realise your dreams.

These five words were the beginning. I found out what I could and couldn’t do. I found new interests, new ideas, and yes, new dreams too. I found out how important it was to enjoy the journey instead of just waiting for the end result. Life at the university has given me a lot.

I love it here.

The words may not have had a literal impact when they were spoken. But they hold special symbolic meaning for me. They did not bring about a “distinct turn in my life”. But they were the opening to the new pathway(s).