There has been a lot of speculation on the origins of Jumanji. Where is he from? How did he come to be at the exact same beach I was chilling in? Did the biological plants give him up willingly? Do I have all the right papers?
To all of these questions I say – you must be more insane than I am. Its a wooden plank.
But still, it is quite interesting to explore the various possibilities of how Jumanji was lost at sea.
I think, quite realistically (& sadistically), that it was a part of a boat wreck. Some local fisherman ventured out into the sea one morning, on his hum-drum routine of catching, cleaning, drying, selling fishes. He had been doing well recently, his family was happy. They were finally able to send their kids to that school in the city. He was now saving up to build a pakka house. That morning when he had left, his wife had shyly whispered into his ear to come home early. But all this, while they were unaware of the jealous neighbour. The neighbour was a drunk and a sloth. He once had had a beautiful wife and happy children but had lost them to idiotic suspicion and senseless violence. And now he lived alone, barely keeping alive by selling knick-knacks he stole from regular tourists.
Last week when the fisherman had bought a new boat, he didn’t know what a jealous rage his neighbour had flown into. Oh why did some people have it all?! He would teach them what it feels like, what it feels like to lose everything, to live in misery. That night he would creep into the boat and sabotage it. The next morning, the unaware fisherman would go about his business, with that sweet giggle from his wife in his memory, venture into the loving sea. The loving sea would turn ruthless. Boats will be lost at sea and in the inundating headlines.
Jumanji is a boat wreck. Jumanji is the haunted soul of a happy fisherman who just wants to go back to his wife but has to trudge through my miserable life instead. I guess the neighbour got much more than he wished for after all.