In Herman Hesse’s classic book “Siddhartha”, we follow the man who the work is named after through his journey in life, travelling with him in his search for truth and enlightenment. Siddhartha transitions through numerous stages, transforming from the son of a Brahmin into a starving ascetic, and then into a rich man who enjoys the material things in life to the extreme. Unfortunately, Siddhartha is unable to find peace, and even a meeting with Buddha himself doesn’t give him the answers he seeks with such passion.
Eventually, Siddhartha ends up by a river. By studying it, he comes to learn and truly understand the many things he had spent a lifetime searching for.
Siddhartha realizes the water within the river was flowing continuously, with new water replacing that which had been there moments prior. It was constantly moving, yet always present.
It was always the same river, yet it was always changing.
The river also teaches Siddhartha that there is no such thing as time. For the river, only the present matters. The water in it exists in multiple places: its source, waterfalls, oceans, currents and waves. It is both everywhere and in everything, but when Siddhartha views it, it is a river.
Siddhartha comes to understand that the answers he’s been seeking all his life are hidden within this very fact. He stops viewing his life in segments, lamenting about the past and worrying about the future, realizing they’re both connected and a part of what matters most – the present.
As per tradition, I brought my mom’s ashes to Punjab to place them into the waters of the Sutlej River at Kiratpur Sahib. As I took in the beautiful serenity of Gurdwara Pataalpuri Sahib, what I had read about Siddhartha’s lessons from the river came into mind.
Time has made us all prisoners. We long for the past, especially when we lose someone. We let it torment us and take over our lives. We let ourselves become overwhelmed with emotion, and ache for those departed. In essence, we drown in the river of life, allowing the anchor of grief to drag us to the bottom.
I miss my mom terribly, but by visiting this spot and letting her go, I realize that much like the river, she is now everywhere. Her presence flows not only in the waters of her homeland of Punjab, but also in the waters of everyone’s life she has touched. There’s no use in pining away for the water that has flown past, because the water that remains is no different.
Siddhartha also comes to realize that the river contains the voices of everyone he has ever known, coming to grasp that the river is in fact an allegory for life. My comprehension of this is that our lives hold within them pieces of everyone who has ever mattered to us, including all those who are no longer here. For me of course, that means my mom, something that brings me comfort and peace.
As I stood on the land of my ancestors and looked at the bright sky above, preparing myself to walk down the blue steps to the river to bid farewell to my mom, I thought about Siddhartha and also the following words of Guru Nanak:
“The sky is our teacher, water our mother and earth our mighty father.”
I wrote this post because the reality of life is that everyone who will take the time to read it either has or will one day have to say goodbye to a parent.
One day, many of you will make the same trip I made, carrying your parent’s ashes thousands of miles to a place you’ve only visited a handful of times.
One day, you too will make the drive from your ancestral village to Kiratpur Sahib and stand in front of Gurdwara Pataalpuri, knowing what you must do, no matter how hard it may be.
One day, you too will walk over that bridge and down the blue steps to the banks of the Sutlej River, and one day you too will place your parent’s ashes into the beautiful green waters and let them be carried away by the fast flowing current.
It is my sincerest wish that when that day comes, you too will understand that although the water into which you placed the ashes of your parent has moved on, the river remains the same. I hope that when you start to make your way back up those blue stairs, thinking about how things will be very different, you will understand that they will also be the same.
The present is all that matters, and just like my mom, whoever you will one day bid farewell to will remain with you, flowing through the currents of the river that is your life, forever connected, united with the sky – our wise teacher; the earth -our mighty father; and of course, water – our loving mother.
Gone, but still here in a way more powerful than ever.
