The river flows
Like a thousand-hooded cobra
Uncoiling in a sly, sensuous oscillation
Like an archetypal danseuse
In a dazzling finale,
Full of zest and splendor,
The river flows.
The river flows.
And moves on as she flows.
The river flows And moves on
I gaze in amazement
As she bursts through
The caverns on the hilltops
Like a towering inferno
Devouring space,
Or, like a raging bull
Charging his opponent,
Hungry lion
Pouncing on its prey.
The river flows
Rolling down the mountain slopes
Stomping on the rocks
Tumbling over the boulders
Like an expert juggler on a rope.
The river flows.
And
Stops for a moment
As if gasping for breath
Or, To size up
With a touch of disdain,
The transient lives,
The lost souls of animate things,
Their hopes, Fears, frustrations,
Anger and avarice,
Petty jealousies, Foolish clinging
To insignificant things
And Thousand shades of’
Empty aspirations.
The river flows.
The river flows
Stealing my heart
With her imperious gestures,
Like a seasoned dancer,
Following her own course,
Carrying the tender souls In her arms,
To the unknown shores
As she flows.
I wonder…
Does she feel the things
She holds In her luring heart?
Or, the things She collects
In time and tide
And what leaves behind
As she moves on?
Does she feel
The umpteen silly objects
She is forced to contain?
Paper boats, Broken hearts,
Flower bouquet,The holy dip,
Seashells on the riverbeds,
The dirty feet,The human waste,
The spit, Dead bodies, the moss, motorboats tearing her guts,
Crocodiles glutting over the half-decomposed bodies,
Little fish Fighting for their lives,
The River flows.
The river flows
Moving in a stately defiance
Of the mean structures men construct,
Poking steel, pouring concrete,
Desecrating the pious waters
In a desperate attempt to curb
Her invincible waters
The river flows.
Following her own course
Enraged by their arrogance,
The river bursts forth into a ravishing outpour of fury
Shattering the dams and bridges
The mean structures men built and their dwellings,
In one clean sweep
As if breaking ground For a new order,
As if challenging their inadequacies,
And proving her own strength, beauty and integrity.
As if staging the fiery Cosmic Dance Of Nataraja.
I sit there on the shore and wonder,
Is she aware of the bond between her apparently Unfathomable flow
And the complex lives of the myriads on the banks?
The mankind conglomerate,
replete with Mothers, daughters, Fathers and sons,
Polluted with politics, power and money?
Electric lights engulfed by Low life?
And,
Where scholarship has failed Human decency,
And turned into a market commodity
And sold at discount price,
She flows quietly, Like a royal gamut
Untouched by the failures
Of mankind
As I sit there,
Listening to the murmurs of million little ripples,
Hitting the rocks on the shores, melodious to the beat,
I wonder.
Is She, unaware, unobtrusive, unattached, indifferent,
Intent on pursuing only her own course?
The river enters the plateau in a noble stride
Reciting Vedic chants,
Propping up the drooping spirits
Embracing the dismal creatures
And unfolding universal harmony.
As she flows
Touching myriad souls
Lighting up thousands of hearts,splashing the colors of rainbow
Holding up her generous heart
To the dark clouds,
The river flows graciously,
Basking in her own lustrous spirit,
And murmuring rhythmic notes.
The river flows.
The river flows like an ageless dancer Imparting the wisdom of centuries
The mettle of a divine warrior
And the aura of an empress,
The river flows…
The River and the Life, entwined in one intricate bond,
Each one intrinsic part of the other…
The river flows. and as the river flows
Life goes on!
(Nidadavolu Malathi, 3/3/98)
Thanks, Narayana Swamy. Coming from you, a poet and dancer, meant a lot to me.
Beautiful, Malathi garu. Especially in the early part, I could feel the rush of the waters and the power of the flow .. and in the last part, the stately passage.