Friday 17 April 2015

Amidst The Mountains I Cry

Someone just threw me right across the river current, to impress a fellow human, letting me skip the brim of the water more than twice, I think. I was only ageing away on the banks of the river, happily sunbathing and changing colours by the year. Untouched by the pride of the river, let alone its agony and the sadistic pleasure she gets out of mowing the likes of us down to pebbles. Sometimes into tiny inglorious sand granules.

I haven't seen much of this part of the world as I'm among one of those younger clans, only a few thousand years old. So, yea, not your usual matured type but definitely old enough to know better. I remember getting to be one of the firsts to see the sun shine, much before the rest of the place could imagine getting a glimpse. An eagle would hunt down the choicest of twigs to build its nest right beside the place I called home. Until one day mother nature told me it was time. Time?
'But I want to be where I am, how I am. Please don't send me down only to be agonised into nothingness, eventually.'

Mother said,"Don't overstay your welcome. Everything that exists- must only perish."
And came the mind numbing blow from her. Not mother nature but her, the river; well actually her pride.
'Come now, flow into me, and with me. You are to give your size and be diminished. No ore pride for you', she laughed in her prevailing thunderous tone.

Yea, I hate to admit it but I, too, stood a thousand or so years with pride in my heart and condescension in my eyes. Perhaps we all ought to realise, that time changes, and so does your fate with every fleeting moment. If only I could stop myself from the temptation of being complacent.

And with that thunderous slap on the face, I gushed down- drowning in her pride. Not knowing where am I to rest now, in peace or in pieces. I pray to mother- seeking, only, to know my fate. And then came her, rather discomforting, voice.
"Seek not whats to become of you, know I'm watching over you."
I am struggling for days on- flowing, hitting rock beds, tumbling down the narrow passages through which she flows. At times the struggle goes on for months on, and I keep suffocating in despair.
Who would like to grow smaller as they grew older? I thought atleast I would be strong enough for years to have outlasted my prime and then grow weaker(maybe smaller) as I aged beyond my time. That's how it is, right? Well I learnt the hard way; not for us.

Until one day, flowing, I stumbled upon one of my fore-fathers. To be honest. all through my journey down the lane I actually happened to see a lot of my family- you know cousins and all. But yea I was too consumed, beyond redemption, in self-loathing to have passed on even a few gestures of gratitude.
Well this fore-father of mine, grandfather's grandfather, told me something which in a moments' time completely annihilated all my despair and longing for home.
 Dear great, great grand \son or whoever the heck you are; I see much anxiety in your eyes. And I do know what it is, for I too have weathered the very same storm that your are going through now.
Let me tell you something,"If you despair about being slowly obliterated by the river and her pride, then you are letting your ego get the better of you; if you despair to know your fate, then you are lowering yourself to the likes of the souls that dwell on the face of our mother; but if you despair only to keep going, keep seeing, keep moving down the path of life, then you are fulfilling your purpose- to live, only to live."
Everything seemed to sync in, all was in place. And I was at peace, eventually but at last.

Coming back to just being thrown like a piece of redundant nothingness- I'm glad he threw me right back into her, for I was starting to get bored of being in one place- ever stagnant- tired of seeing the same sky everyday. But I hope , I really do, he realises that I, too, like every other piece lying on that beach-side was at one time substantially daunting- something he would have to raise his bobbing head high to see.
For I too was once a mountain.  

3 comments:

  1. Deep stuff!!
    Last line was killer

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  2. the life and times of a mountain beautifully encapsulated...as always, your writing is very lyrical...enjoyed reading your poetic account and hope to see more :)

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