At a time when the the raging omnicron pandemic was gaining ground in the metropolitan areas of India, I along with my family took a trip out of the containment zone into the buffer zone at the Jim Corbett National Park. I stood by the river Kosi absorbing the serene view, the gush of the water hitting the polished rocks, a lone river island sitting in the middle, the glistening sun gleaming over the waves and the lush majestic Sitabani forest across the river gazing right back at us. My brother standing at the edge began flicking flattened stones into the river, just to see how many bounces it could make. Looking at him I was reminded of the saying of an ancient Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, who proffered that “you can never step into the same river twice”. This resonated with the epiphany that the flicking stones bounced on a different river every time they made contact. The lighter stones resembling the ordinary lows, ranging from taking a longer walk to fetch the morning milk to the odd rebuke by a senior. From the the non availability of one’s\ favorite food at one’s favorite place to the failed sighting of a tiger on a jungle safari. These sharp little stones flip and flick, bounce and dip in the river but don’t alter the least, the never ending flow of the river. The little waves, the tiny cyclones still move the way they moved before the stone was flicked. The tranquility of the undercurrents not one bit abrade.
The heavier stones resembling the troughs of life. The sudden loss of a loved one, disease, bankruptcy and so on. These heavy stones fall right through, creating a dent on the surface current. A turbid cyclone emerges and is carried with the flow, altering the waves to an extent the natural flow, for in this vast cosmos beyond one’s comprehension, turmoil does not last very long and perennial peace prevails. The havoc that seems heavy at the surface are absorbed by the under currents. The surface waves representing the persona one reveres and portrays in the most tangible way. Heavy crying, a sudden loss of appetite or a state of absolute disinterest paralleling a cold egoist. The affected undercurrents synonymous to the unseen world that lies within. All, and I mean all, have a world running within themselves of which only a part is accessible to the conscious self. A broken heart, a depressing silence, a state of purposelessness of life. The deprecating nihilist that\ lives in a cave of this river, is touched awake by the heavy stones. To which the soothing flow of the river alone renders the antidote to its sleep. The river closer to us, where the stones were being flicked, screamed to the river across “How do I suppress the violent storms generated within, tell me how do I accept this boulder and win”. Came across in a thundering voice, bearing the three magical words uttered by Heraclitus - “Everything is flux”. By the time the voice echoed back, the river closer wasn’t the same. It healed a little more, it yield a little more. The undercurrent, the force emanating from the mountains out of site, flowed into the ocean out of site. The undercurrent representative of the spirit, the spirit that emanates from the omniscient source is bound again to flow into the omnipotent force. In between, for Heraclitus is the ‘becoming’, or as Gautam Buddha postulated ‘transient and evanescent’. Nothing, and I say nothing, is permanently painted in the color of a trait, character or quality. A thing is at all times both the aye and the nay, the up and the down, the high and low. The first learning from Heraclitus is that the road down and the the road up are just the same. It is in the harmony of the opposites like the hot and cold, the right and the wrong, the love and the hate by which the universe unifies as one. The tension between the opposites is what makes us existent in a universe which like the river is ever moving and put constantly in a flux. The second learning from Heraclitus, is to let the undercurrent takes it course, for no matter how dreadful the stone is to the surface current, the omniscient force of life underneath has a way of naturally balancing things out. The course of life like the river is in a constant flux of harmonizing opposites, given this statute Heraclitus recommends we focus on becoming. Becoming more good than evil, more courageous than cowardly, more virtuous than vice. |
