SAIYA OS : SAHAAREIN

PAPER BOATS

After being in the news for a long-term drought, unseasoned showers gave Khadgaon a break from its unbearable heat.
Children cycled on the muddy ground and jumped in the puddles. Facing the river stream on the road was a village house with courtyard. Rain trickled down the window grill past Sai's eyes as her gaze was fixed on the paper boat sailing in the stream unaware of its destination.
It was a rare view in Nagpur. She missed Gadchiroli and then Kankavali. Savi often ran from tree to tree writing messages for her father to come back and 9 out of 10 times the little lady got stuck in the rains. Sai took her bicycle to fetch the little one. Every monsoon, the route would be different. The more Sai forbade Savi, the latter would rebel. Keeping their arguments aside, the mother and daughter had played this game every monsoon for the last 6 years.
Savi had learnt to make paper boats in school. On her way back she would sail few of those in the stream. She would then sit on the bicycle and Sai walked beside her pushing everyone's weight in rhythm. She would count the boats that would reach safely with her till their home. But soaked paper never saw its destination. To make up for the lost cause, the mother daughter set their sails in motion for the next day.
After coming to Nagpur, things had changed. Savi had changed. The bicycle ceased to exist and paper boats were replaced with plastic toys. Seldom did Savi come out for walk. Sai often wished things to be normal as before. While Virat and Savi enjoyed each other's company, she still yearned for Vinu - the child she had lost and found.
The rains, unlike before, were a reminder of her loss. The reminders were infrequent. It didn't rain much here. So, paper boats were missing and so the destination.
Sai wiped her tears looking at the boat till it was out of her sight.
These unseasoned showers were an omen of familiarity and comfort. She had no clue for how long the paper boat sailed, but she  knew it sailed.