The oddity of life and its true meaning has confounded many a people since eternity. Great philosophers and intellectuals have expended themselves in finding answer to this question. So what is this life, this almost metaphysical being which everyone experiences but no one can define.
According to my very little understanding, life is a river. It ebbs and flows, sometimes flowing gently sometimes violently, sometimes calm sometimes turbulent but unmistakably it does flow. Life like a river continues in its long journey never returning to a point that has gone by, ever going forward ever flowing.
Life akin to a river has its distinct stages a start, a being and an end.In its youth life is a torrent gushing through the narrow spaces of orthodoxy and convention rebelling against age old customs. In middle age it attains the poise and dignity of a brook flowing through the plains reconciled with the vagaries and ironies of life. In old age it resembles a spent river inevitably merging into the sea - a sea which in its tranquility symbolises death itself.
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