Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Little Paper Boat


This is a trip I did back in February, before I left Bangalore for good. Like most trips I make, this one happened unplanned and unforeseen. I just bought tickets online, packed my backpack and left.

The strange thing about Kodaikanal is that a jacket of fog covers the place every afternoon at 2 PM. This happens everyday, without fail, as if Kodaikanal had a perennial date at 2PM everyday with some maiden who prefers a foggy jacket. There are the usual touristy places – most of the much-touted ones (like Coaker’s walk) will let you down. You might try cycling around the lake in the center of Kodaikanal. But every now and then you will find solitude in beautiful wilderness. You might stand at the edge of a cliff and lean yourself on the shoulders of a wizened tree with gnarled roots. Like Munnar, this place is full of flowers.

I met this local in Kodaikanal. He speaks a little English, and I understand a wee bit of Tamil. He took me fishing to a lake in a remote area, 2 hours from Kodaikanal. We passed by his home and he showed me where he grew up (the little village in the photograph). He spoke about his life, his girl friends, his future and what he does on weekends. When I returned he called me several times on the phone. We could barely speak, as we hardly know each other’s language. I was supposed to send him the photos but I have lost his address. He doesn’t use email.

Little Paper Boat

She sat in a little paper boat,
And paddled into the Atlantic.
She said she had to live her dream,
As she applied her night cream.
I told her she would get wet,
So she wrapped herself in a towel,
She said she didn’t mind a shower.

Since she’s gone,
In her little paper boat,
(That can barely float),
The waves swim away,
From this desolate shore.
I turn towards the west,
My mind won’t rest,
My eyes look yonder,
For that little boat of paper.

O little paper boat,
Trying to stay afloat,
Bobbing up and down,
Amidst the mid-atlantic waves.
When she looks in her bag,
For her blue plastic cap,
Turn around in quick motion.
In the middle of the ocean,
She won’t notice your rotation.
Then skim across the ocean waves,
And bring her back to me.


How do we know said...

This poem is beautiful Wriju! As are these travelogues!

Tell me no more of enchanted days said...

Hugs to u too dear. don't worry, everything will turn out will...

Vasu said...


Hope the boat does turn around...

Wriju said...

Thank you. Where have you been lately? ;)

No more:
Yes hope so.
How is you elephant leg faring?

Paper boats are notoriously fickle-minded. You can never tell if they will turn or not...

Tell me no more of enchanted days said...

elephant no it's like a cricket ball stuck in the leg..:) much better...will chat with u fact beginning to miss u a lot...wonder how that is possible?

angel, jr. said...

Those are gorgeous pictures.

When fog covers a place, it adds a sense of mystic to it. Must have made that gorgeous landscape so much more beautiful.

Priyankari said...

Lovely pics!!

samrina said...

Beautiful pics n poetry...


Velu Nair said...

Stunning pics, as usual. Long since I was here, both on ur blog and at Kodai, brings back a hoarde of fresh memories...


tumblewords said...

Ah, lovely as always. The paper boat is full of heart! The photographs are incredible - awesome!

Good said...

W! please send me your number @ I wanted to give you a call but misplaced your number. Thanx in advance!:)

Life is a matter of virtue said...

hey nice pics...u seem to be a traveller...

Tanvi said...

the pics, the travelogue, the poem - fantabulous!

The Egg said...

Lovely words and pictures! Thanks for taking me back to another time..I studied at Kodaikanal when I was 6! Have vivid memories of the boarding school (girls' convent) and its surroundings. It was like another world. I would love to go back for a visit--since it marked the beginning of an adventurous life. This post is an inspiration!

adi said...

nice to have found you, friend :)