Across the Seven Seas, the Ocean waits

And the River rushes down to feel belonged.

This flash essay is part of a collaborative, constrained-writing challenge undertaken by some members of the Bangalore Substack Writers Group. This month, each of us examined the concept of ‘BELONGING’. At the bottom of this snippet, you’ll find links to other essays by fellow writers.

Image Credits: Shwetha Harsha, ChutneyMix

Two-years and this song still echoes. It’s as fresh and as resonant as a gurgling river flowing beside a cottage, if you ever had a chance to live in one on the riverside. While listening to this song, I’m reminded of one of Kahlil Gibran’s poems - The River Cannot Go Back. While there’s still a debate going on if the poem is the original work of Gibran or Osho, that’s a topic for another post. However, this poem shares the apprehension of the river to merge with the ocean.

“It is said that before entering the sea
a river trembles with fear.
She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains,
the long winding road crossing forests and villages.
And in front of her,
she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter
there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.
But there is no other way.
The river can not go back.
Nobody can go back.
To go back is impossible in existence.
The river needs to take the risk
of entering the ocean
because only then will fear disappear,
because that’s where the river will know
it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,
but of becoming the ocean.”

While the above poem is in the perspective of the river, the song aforementioned is from the ocean’s point of view. It’s how the ocean beckons, lying in wait across the seven seas to meet the river. And the music director - Charan Raj chooses the synth-rock genre to convey this sense of flowing of the river in its quest to feel belonged by the ocean. With your eyes closed you could visualize the birth place of the river as the bare vocals of Kapil Kapilan with minimal background music at the start of the song, A narrow mouth from which the water body springs forth and trickles. And at the 30-second mark is when you hear the synths cueing the cascading of the narrow stream to a wider river. Gently it flows down. The fluidity of the lyrics from Dhananjay Rajan complements the whole essence of the song.

At 1:55 you hear the Veena lead, a hint at how the river has tumbled over the highest mountain and gushes forth towards the seas. Thereon, it has gained momentum all the way. There is no stopping. It cuts across rocks and boulders, flows over dams, seeps beneath gilded trees at the golden hour planted on the banks. And races towards the ocean waiting with its arms wide open. As it waits with bated breath. Waits with waves crashing and currents circling. Hoping one day, it would embrace the river to feel belonged. One day, the river and the ocean would become one. Until then, the song ushered by the wind, goes to beckon the river and guide its trail.

#acnotes

KIND ATTENTION: As mentioned at the start of this post, this flash essay is part of this month’s collab with Bangalore Substackers Collective. Read the other posts shared below for the same theme: Belonging.

• Happiness & a sense of belonging by Aarti Krishnakumar, Aarti’s Substack

• Virtual Embrace by Shwetha Harsha, ChutneyMix

• Belonging Is A Many Shaped Word by Priyanka Sacheti, A Home For Homeless Thoughts

• I belong by Spandana, Spandana’s Substack

• We are all mad here by Gowri N Kishore | About Murder, She Wrote.

• Food and Belonging by Rakhi Anil

• Ambiguity of Belonging by Mihir Chate, Mihir’s Substack

• The Complexity of Belonging by Avinash Shenoy, Off the walls

• #14: On Belonging, by Siddhesh Raut, Shana, Ded Shana

• Where am I? By Abhiram R, Abhiram’s Newsletter

• The Canteen, By Shruthi, Will you be my Friend?

• Somewhere I Belong, By Meghana Ramachandra, One True Sentence

• Unknown Citizen by Nidhishree Venugopal, The General in her Labyrinth