Naked Roots

“Whoever has seen a river doesn’t resent giving water to the thirsty.”

Rumi

A cool breeze dancing through the tall trees tries to win over the peeping sunlight in this dense forest. The River under these trees runs determined and confident. The strong rocks and pebbles are irrelevant to the flow of the water. They rather add to the ambiance of the River. A crowd of naked roots of the trees on both banks of the River tell the story of eroded soil. I can hear the hymns of separation that these roots are singing in honor of the departed clay. The fresh leaves however clap in gratitude of being born again. Sporadically I can see small fish floating in the stagnant part of the River. A bunch of birds are out on prey. Some fly away with their beaks full. Others are desperately trying. Fish won’t give up its claim on these temporary ponds. I can see a turtle neck appearing and disappearing in the rocks on the bank of the River. It also has valid authority over these territories. 

A couple of sparrows are also flapping their wings after diving in the shallow side of the River. They are fully absorbed in their romantic bathing. Alone I sit on a stone bench on the bank, trying to read a book through my phone. I am  trying my best to belong to the atmosphere and sit there as one of them. Yet I am unable to read my book rather the book of nature invites me to read this place. 

The nature around this bench blossoms in full bloom. Living and the matter together sing a song of harmony.  The flora and fauna, carbon and clay all live in peace here. Only I want things to change. I want the grass mowed, stone bench to sit, the hanging branches trimmed, clothes to cover myself, etc. Everything else, being as it is made, praise each other yet I appreciate this place in another way. I want to use it. While all other things cherish each other. I want my own environment when other things like it the way it is. 

I know how to tame or eat the fauna, how to exploit or burn the flora, how to manipulate or use the carbon and how to handle or cultivate the soil. I have power to administer the River. I am human. I am the master of it all and my Master created all of it for me. 

It may be so but do I owe my master for all these blessings. Yes I am under obligation to protect and preserve it. If not for its sake for the survival of my own offsprings. For the betterment of my next generations. Exploit but responsibly. Manipulative but reasonably. Use it respectably. Enjoy it, don’t destroy it. 

“It moves at its own measured pace, for it has no reason to hurry. Tomorrow will come in its own good time.”

Sidney Sheldon

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

Published by Morning with Golf

Golfer, entrepreneur, author, blogger, wanderer, photographer

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