When I appear there Nature seems to
Dance and dance and dance,
When I disappear she is prone to
Weep and weep and weep.
Withdraws all clouds from sky to set a
Splendid scenery,
So that me rising from the river
Afresh may there espy.
Whether it sun or shower or snow or
Storm, when I arise
To set my arms, the setting Sun
Certainly will be there.
Women who go to the river for bathing
Choose my choicy time,
So that there they may bathe in warm and
Yellow sunshine time.
Now here a plant blossoms and blooms and
Soon another there,
Here Spring is reappearing, with her
Bring all beauties back.
Nature is dancing with her rhythmic
Steps and divine smile,
Why can't I row a boat here swaying
To and fro on waves?
The valleys wear their flowery carpets,
And the mountains are
Once again clad in colours, such this
Sylvan scene is set.
White cranes are there always on serene
Haunted islets sit,
Or stand by whiter cows there grazing
O'er the lushy green.
Suppose some Beauty glance and dance in
This wild atmosphere-
Then surely that's a dance to see, when
Mother Nature dance.
So Nature takes the pen out of my
Hands and writes for me,
May that there me, the clouds and cranes and
Cows and waves witness.
ABOUT NATURE AND ME ON THE RIVERSIDE:
On cloudy days, practically there will be no sun to see. But it was my insistent wish that when I rise up after bathing in the river and look up to the sky, the sun should be there in the western horizon for me to worship. If it is a heavy raining day, I will select the time to go to the river according to when the rain will have a possibility of abating. The sun, the sky and the river never have failed me. Even on the heaviest-raining days in the east, nature is benevolent enough to uncover a part of the sun at least for a few seconds. I will select this time to rise up from the river with my eyes closed and fervently wishing for father sun to be there when I open my eyes. Standing river-fresh with closed eyes when we look westward- I don't know what makes it happen- but the sun will always be there though only for a fraction of a second. It is like this life-giver reads our minds. Nevertheless, the slanting rays of the setting sun do have its cosmic effect on our retinas.
When we rise fresh from the river and look up to the sun with closed eyes even while standing in the stream with joined and raised palms, there will be a world of wonderful lights displayed before our retina- small bright particles of light filling a screen and moving everywhere. It is as if we are allowed a glimpse into the home of the sun, our home. It is a brilliant world of constant particle motion which is superior to anything human eyes has ever seen or human intelligence has ever conceived.
Glimpses of such splendid cosmic scenarios convince us of their existence as places wherefrom we started our journey and whereto will return finally. It’s like hearing the sound of ocean waves when we close our ears with our fingers convinces us of life forms originating in the ancient sea broth. This projection of our ancestral home is to make us confident that we are specks of a magnificent cosmic creation on temporary loan to earth for fulfilling some mission. Standing in the river with eyes closed immediately beneath a heavy waterfall to see this speck of the original world revealed through sun rays was of course a risk but I took this risk. There can be flash floods coming from down nearby hills and the spectator may be swept away. So, if you intend to do what I did, close your eyes while keeping your keen ears open. And never go to midstream; be always near the bank.
Do not think the hills around do not have watchers. Those who have gone for wood cutting or grass gathering are always there. Many did indeed notice the inevitability of this brief respite in sun light on rainy days. So, a few women and a few others began to select this particular time for their river going. When I came to know about this by way of remarks, I became a little shy but never they. Being pagan rural innocents, they are immune. They will bath in the river in all awkward poses, with and without, and they too have their own share of divinity and those of us who walk along the river bank to the upper levels of the waterfall will walk along looking the other way, but not all.
Washing clothes in a river is easy and effortless. Have anyone laundered clothes in river, spread them for drying, bathed in tons of water and then worn those rock-dried clothes? There is nothing to substitute that sensation. There are tons of litres of water flowing along per second and within minutes our washing will be over. We spread wet clothes on rocks amid the river and place large pebbles to prevent them from being swept away in wind. Even if we do not place weights, clothes spread on rocks for drying will not be swept away, provided we spread them fully wet without squeezing, and do not rearrange or move on partial drying. But what will we do if we see no clothes when we rise from the river but all swept away by wind and placed far high on trees or carried downriver? Not a few have walked in loin clothes up to nearby houses, told the story, caused a few suppressed laughter from women and borrowed clothes to reach homes decently. One day I too found my dhoti nowhere, and became anxious how I will present the story and from which house I will borrow. But on search, I happily found that it indeed had been swept away by wind taking away pebbles but had not been released into the flow downwards but deposited in a whirl-winding deep pit in a rock mid-stream. I felt it was kindness.
Rivers are not only frolic but have a way of attaining different personalities, morning, noon and night. I will someday write about this in detail. See the three images here.
