The Daughter of the Middle Class

In one of his formidable short stories, the one titled "Subhasini" the great author- the Guru, Rabindranath Tagore had described a natural beauty in the weave of human life and emotions that humanity is attached too. It is a very unlikely thing to do, since it is more understandable to describe human emotions as a part of nature- as a small resemblance of natural elements.

But there is beauty in man as well.

A small, timid river, flowing through impoverished rural settings is a controlled, or rather a tamed beauty. She, unlike those mighty glacial rivers, has a more humbler background- she is born from the womb of the Mother Rivers- the ones truly capable of nurturing gems and gold in her bed.

She prefers not to be very flashy about her true strength. She shines in Golden Glory when the Sun is awake, and under His orders, distributes Life in the most remote. Then when the Moon and Stars hold their Nightly Courts, this small river, this quiet river, very obediently dresses in silver to host the wi

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tnesses.

She is obedient to the Cosmos and its Master.

The mortals find her approachable. She is loved and respected by the insignificant who find the courage to love and respect her. Animals take liberty by freely drinking from her bosom the clear Water of Nourishment while the humans, more so, use it for their daily shore.

But for liberty one must pay a cost.

And we do it in the most frightening manner. Every year, the river, timid all over the year, loses all her past inhibitions and is wild with excitement. She oversteps the boundaries. The boundaries set by a humbler background.

The rains coax her into forgetting her discipline and she refutes the fragile ghats. Carcasses of those who loved float in these wild waters.

The ones who loved pay the price.

But even this small river, this friendly river has no end. She finds within her the strength to stretch out her arms to the Infinite.

She ends where All Questions demand a rhetoric and uncertain answer.