Our lives are like a river

They begin from somewhere,

A source by the mountain

Or a tributary branch by the hills,

Or from a lake, as a cleanser,

They chart their own paths,

Sometimes rocky,

Sometimes they disappear beneath the riverbed,

Emerging way downstream,

Sometimes its joined by tributaries, Or it rains heavily,

Adding to its volume

Sometimes it divides itself

Birthing other rivers and riverlets

Sometimes it doesn’t rain,

Bringing down its volume to trickles,

Sometimes it dries up

Following bouts of scorching sun

Sometimes its polluted by chemicals

By garbage

By sewage

By home products from washing




Sometimes it is cleaned

By nature, when it rains

By filtration,


Active human intervention

One thing is for certain

The river keeps flowing

Almost always towards the sea…