Travelling For Inspiration

It was for postcards that I traveled with my family to Ganpatipule - a village that was in no way associated with modernity, a few hundred kilometers from Mumbai in India. My Belgian pen pal had sent me a postcard and I wanted to send her a souvenir from my travelling exploits.
It took a while to get adjusted to everyone’s puzzled looks at the mention of postcards. The official working in the booking-office near a fort of a revered king had never heard a stranger request.

“A postcard, madam? But that’s available in the post office in Pune!”
I did not hide my initial disappointment. I had two days to look around at the dry village and its many forts. Too many forts, I’d say. Instead, I found my way to a lighthouse. At the entrance stood a boy wearing dark glasses and holding a fold-able red-and-white stick. A dog snoozed near the steps where he sat.

“Are you a guide here?” I asked.
“Depends on what you’re looking for.”
“Don’t get clever with me."
"Yes, I am."
"Isn't this lighthouse a bit too short?”
“That’s because it’s on elevated ground.”
We took our shoes off and made our way upwards. I sat on the top rung of the stairs to wipe the sweat off my face when he opened the latch of the door on the top.

“Not complaining about the shortness of the lighthouse now, are you?”
I watched the water in front of me and released my hair from a knot. With my hair blowing wildly in the cool air, I told him the place was beautiful. “I suppose it is,” he remarked. As I looked at the rare sight of a blue-colored water body in India, he spoke of the lopsided development of the place.

“I noticed as much. Why do you think that is?” I said.
“Our elected representative is so crooked that he sleeps on a spiral staircase every night.”

When I laughed, he spoke of the things associated with obscure villages like that one - power cuts and poor internal roads. He ended on a cheery note: I’ll do my tour guide’s course from Mumbai next year.
“That’s great. Can I see you again?” I asked.
“You certainly can see me again.”

Downstairs, his dog had woken up as I left. I saw the two of them looking in my direction as I left. I returned home the next day and went to the Gateway of India. Just my luck to find a postcard booklet at the main post office in Mumbai.