The Rock

Round the rock, the river rumbled-

Old fool. Always in my way! Can’t move aside for a while even...

What’s up dear? A bit sour today? 

A fish swam forward. He was eager to hear in details.

Just have a look... That big lump is always against my flow, turning me out of my rhythm.

Hm... They are always like that. Headstrong fellows.

The fish streamed straight to the rock as if to throw it out of the way. As he neared, the swaying moss on the rock caught his attention. He started pecking the rock gently, the moss was rich.

Huh...

The disgusted river leapt forward. She had expected the fish to come up for her.

The rock was as silent as ever. With his eyes shut, he was feeling the fish pecking at the moss on his body. He was there even before the river came. He had never cherished any desire to be in somebody’s way. He wished if he could roll a little. He was very lonely there,- all alone amidst a crowd. Suddenly, the rock opened his eyes wide. Something strange was crawling on his sun scorched back. It was a caterpillar, blown by the wind by chance from the peepul tree overhanging the river.

Uff! Its burning here...

The caterpillar crawled for a shade. But it had fallen on the bare top of the rock that has pushed up from the water. There wasn't a single spot covered. And the autumn sun overhead had made the bare rock tormenting enough for the caterpillar. Wearily, it started creeping down looking for a crevice. And then it slipped, perhaps the rock was too hot to grip, or the worm was feeling giddy while climbing down.

Down dropped the drop... The worm had circled itself during the free fall. The rock was feeling very uneasy. The splash, though faint, reached the fish. It turned back, and in no time darted forward- gulp...

It is always good to have moss dipped in caterpillar sauce, but one doesn’t get them often now-a-days. Do you have a regular supply?

The fish asked the rock, but didn’t wait for an answer. He swam forward steadily for something new that has attracted his attention.

The rock sat there silently. Was he thinking about the caterpillar? They seldom reach him, incidentally blown by the winds. Even the butterflies, they prefer the shade of the peepul tree, and don’t come to him save occasions. Was he feeling sorry for the worm? He didn’t know. Was he thinking of the fish? Perhaps not. He knew that the fish was there for the moss. It touched him because he has moss grown over his body. The only one who was always with him was the river, though it complained and grumbled without a single break about him being there. 

The rock breathed heavily. He was unable to think anymore. The heat of the sun was charring his brain. He wanted to have a deep dip into the water, but sat there, unable to move.

Time rolled to the dark hours. The cool of the night turned the rock sleepy. His dozing turned to a deep slumber under the starry sky...

A giant rock rolled down along the river and crashed into the rock. For the first time, since he could remember, he rolled out of his place, but in pieces…

What the hell!

It’s raining heavily at the hills; I myself was even knocked down by a larger brat...

The boulders were trying hard to hold to their posts, but the current was messing them up. They started rolling, first being confused, from the age-old inertia. Then after crossing a distance, they started rolling together, in harmony with the river. The river was flowing peacefully; it was not the river whom the old rock knew. Under the moonlight, the river sparkled, and the boulders felt at perfect peace with the world.

The sun shone again. The first rays awoke the rock. It smiled as it recalled the dream last night. The river was rumbling round him. For the first time in his life, the rock spoke to the river in his mind- 

One day, I will roll with you, dear friend... 

He didn’t know, why in particular, he was not feeling lonely anymore.