Wednesday 16 August 2017

can you read the face of a river?


Image Credit: Shutterstock




my grandmother once told me that a river is just like us. but it is more, she said.

she would take me to the river and ask me, “is she happy, grandson?”

and as a child i would tell her, “how can I tell?”

she would tell me that if she were happy,

would she frolic about, throwing up her arms

and uproot trees at her banks, just as an excited teenager would?


or would she just lie as a love-smitten girl would
 

on her bed and just smile? 
 

(now, I got confused) 

 

would the quiet waters be the face of seething anger— the type of anger that ripples on the 

surface and boils inside  the treacherous waters known to drown full-sized men?


i have seen cheerful, boisterous waters swallow a man and I thought, “here you go, capricious 


waters, you don’t kill people in your excitement!” 

and in some afternoons, the same waters, then in seething, raging anger but just flowing 

gracefully  have hugged the feet of men who crossed to their safety.


Chinjakuku— he was our village tailor. he got drunk one day. 
river suam was in a cheerful, 

boisterous mood. so it was throwing up twigs and knocking off stones. she was in her element. 

Chinjakuku—alcohol stirring revolt in his head—was also in a cheerful, boisterous mood. he 

stepped into the waters and his flailing arms soon lost their strengths as he was suffocated by 

the embrace of the waters.

it was like when you throw up a child up and clutch it and throw it higher and higher and it 


slips through your hand. love is like that.  and when we searched for Chinjakuku, river suam 

just tucked him under her bosom. for one day. 


then next morning, he was floating and the waters were just aloof, innocent even, as if nothing 

had happened. 

the same waters that have quenched the thirsts of travelers with parched throats. 

the same waters that have hugged the feet of travellers who have crossed it to safety.

 

no, grandmother.

are these waters happy or sad or excited or hospitable? 


i can’t tell.

i am still on the river’s journey to read her face just like a palmist reads our future.




c) Salem Lorot/ echoesofthehills 2017



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31 comments:

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Salem, i cant see the text on your post. Can you fix?

Salem Lorot said...

Koko, I am confused on this end. I can see the text even when using different gadgets.

Salem Lorot said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
indybev said...

I love your fascinating study of the river waters. The waters hold their mysteries.

Susan said...

Wow! Keep on the journey. Clearly the river waters are not very predictable, but they have power of life and death. I cringed at this personification and comparison and then LOVED it:
"... the embrace of the waters.
it was like when you throw up a child up and clutch it and throw it higher and higher and it
slips through your hand. love is like that."
Ouch. My heart slips out. I wouldn't know how to answer Grandmother either.

Mary said...

Ah, your grandmother was wise, Salem. And, I think you gained wisdom from the conversations with her. Every child should be so lucky.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Now i can see it, the problem was my tablet. What a beautiful poem this is. Love your grandma talking to you about the river, sad that Chinjakuku met a watery end......and LOVE your closing lines.

purplepeninportland.com said...

What a wonderful wise woman your grandmother is. We are all on a journey, so must decide for ourselves. I love this poem, Salem!

Old Egg said...

Of course the river will invite us in because it doesn't know how weak we are. Wading in a stream as a child I could feel the river pulling, pulling the way it wanted me to go as it knew nothing of me having a home and mother waiting for me. What beautiful images you have created in your poem Salem.

Jae Rose said...

Keep journeying on those waters

Sumana Roy said...

Nothing can be read on the face. Who knows what's hidden? Wiser not to play with such Force till one can tame and harness. A wonderful & thought provoking poem.

Marja said...

the same waters that have quenched the thirsts of travelers with parched throats. the same waters that have hugged the feet of travellers who have crossed it to safety. Beautiful lines in which the water gives but as you expressed it so well it does also take from us

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Beautifully deep and wise!

Carrie Van Horn said...

I truly love this Salem! So thought provoking and beautifully written. Wisdom flows from your grandmother to you and your mighty pen.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Indybev. And welcome again.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @SuSan. Humbled to read your comment.

Salem Lorot said...

Yes she was @Mary. Thanks for visiting.

Salem Lorot said...

Thanks @Koko. Happy you finally read it. Kokos are just wise.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Sara for your kind comment and thanks for visiting.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Old Egg for your reflection. I agree. Thanks for visiting.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Jae Rose.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Sumana for your comment.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Marja.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Sanaa.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Carrie Van Horn for your comment.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Carrie Van Horn for your comment.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Sanaa.

Salem Lorot said...

Thank you @Sumana for your comment.

Unknown said...

I continue to love your stories and your writing.

tonispencer said...

I like very much the wisdom of your grandmother regarding the river. I have learned through the years by watching what kind of mood the river is in. It is an interesting study.

vaiybora said...

I'am glad to read the whole content of this blog and am very excited,Thank you for sharing good topic.

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