The Mountain

By Aneri Desai

It is me, that mountain from afar. I didn't think I was strong enough because I couldn't hold my own parts together as I watched these rocks roll down every now and then.  Not just then, but a little later, I noticed a fragile blade of grass growing effortlessly amidst the breeze, it had it's roots in me! I hosted water bodies that were cheerful upon their swift downfall. I absorbed the heat and the snow just the same. My backdrop made the sun's appearance and disappearance prettier. That's when I realised, perhaps I am stronger than I think I am. But soon, being strong or stronger or naively weaker didn't matter at all! Why? Did the mountain find out that despite hosting all subtle and artless movements, stillness was a part of its very core nature? How does one come to such a conclusion? Will I live differently then? How so? 

By Aneri Desai