Swings of a rhapsodic mind

I am from the land where the mighty Brahmaputra holds our lifeline. I remember visiting multiple places within Assam as a kid and no matter near or far, the bus ride always promised me a glimpse of the mighty river. My pious mother had instilled within me a faith that this river was not a river alone, it was our deity and needed to be worshipped. Each time we crossed it, she would jerk me from my sleep and fold my tiny hands into a "namaste" to show my obeisance towards the river. I was also taught that each namaste had to be accompanied with a slight bend of your head to show how humbled you felt when faced by the mighty river. Years rolled, I grew from a kid to a confused adult. Confused is the apt word to describe my state because I am preety clear about the fact that a river can't be God and as a matter of fact I even can't explain who to relate to as God but even now some unseen force makes me fold my palm into a "namaste" followed by a brief nod (thou...

A friend of mine got in touch recently after ages and the first thing she said was, "Girl, you still are your happy self".  I was amused by the way she had so easily confirmed my state . I tried to sound intelligent and thank her for complementing but I couldn't fake it. I quietly smiled for in these many years one thing that I have realised is you needn't explain yourself to people with whom you engage in small talks. She took my smile to be a confirming nod and further began narrating how lucky I was to not have those share of struggles which supposedly she had. She began complaining about everything under the sun and I stood looking at her transfixed. My mind was not at all registering her words let alone her pain. "Empathy ", I remember the first time I had learnt the word at school . I kept on repeating the word while cycling back to home for I had found my word, I wanted to be one such human who could smile at everyone and step in everyone's sho...