I love the sublime mountains,
But the waters always haunt me.
Oceans, seas, rivers, lakes,
They all have me hooked.
And, if it is the mighty Ganges,
Then all I can do is sit quietly by its banks
Hoping that whatever flows from me flows like her.
Pure, free and timeless.
No holding back.
Like how a child flows.
I want to be like that river.
Omnipresent, and everywhere simultaneously.
At the source, in the mountains, in the waterfalls,
In the valleys, the plains, and, at the mouth where it meets the sea.
Timeless, and yet, ever so timely.
It’s said one never steps into the same waters twice.
But even as you step in, the water continues to flow.
So is it even the same water ever?
The river is never still.
It is always there, but it is constantly flowing,
And in the process changing itself and lives of those it touches.
Am I like the river, boundless, and infinite?
Am I growing, widening and deepening my life?
Or, am I growing stagnant, dirty and arid like the river bed?
Should I allow life to dam me up and flow only in canals to serve my purpose?
Or, should I continue to course through life flowing gently where required and surging across rapids to plough a valley of my own?