Stream in the Forest
Everywhere it is congested with plants, trees, bushes, shrubs, creepers, climbers and grasses. Brownish dead leaves make rustling sound as I move. If I further bush up, the yellowish decayed leaves and slush produce a stinking smell. No sound of the grinder or of automobile or even of a moaning of a child can be heard. As I again step forward elbowing through the bushes, an artificial darkness spread and I cannot even see the sky. The lonely chirping sounds, the violent roar from far, rainbow coloured birds moving through the green and the occassional spread of fragrance from the wild yellow flowers lead me to a splashing stream running lonely producing its sound for thousands of years. All these may terrify some but give peace to some others.
Even upto some months ago this kind of a thick forest experience would have produced much loneliness and fear in my mind. I used to hate places where there are less human beings and hustle bustle afraid of being left alone. But now I have started to understand my close relationship with every particle of nature. Even in the midst of a wild forest I feel the sense of belongingness and fulfillment. Now I know why the great sage Thoreau spent more than two years alone in Walden.
When I come close to a small forest stream, running in the same path and producing the same gurgling sound for thousands of years, I wonder. I wonder at its permenance. Some kings, hermits and hunters might have drunk its elixer as well as washed their dirty legs and hands. But they are no more. It might have satisfied the thirst of many animals, birds and other organisms which have become mud now.
I wonder at the way in which it reflects the long shadows of trees and shrubs in a curly way. Even tiny stones slip into the water produce measured wringles round and round like cosmic energy. The constant passing of waters has made beautiful polish stones and pebbles which witness many years of history happened inside the stream. A kingfisher dives like a bullet producing sparkling glassy drops around to catch a silver fish. The men lived in the forest, our forefathers might have seen the same event in this stream. And they could have seen here their image first.
When two matters rub each other, it produces sound, whether the matters are liquid, solid or gas. Hence if there is no matter in this universe then there is no sound. But now through this neo-permanent splashing sound of the stream I hear the truly permenant sound of the universe which no matters can produce and no human ears can hear. Beyond this sparkling silver light I see the permenant one and beyond this beautifully made kingfisher, a more permenant form but not through my eyes.
Now I'll go back from this stream but still the splashing sound will remain. The wringles, pepples glittering , sparkling and all will remain. Again human beings would come to get peace or fear.
Author: "A Bird's Eye View"