The days that followed were unlike anything Arjun had known. He was no longer a farmer's son, no longer bound to the rhythm of the village. Instead, he followed the wandering monk, who spoke little, but whose silence carried more weight than words.
They settled near a quiet bend of the river, far from the noise of human life. The air was cool, scented with wild flowers and damp earth. Each morning, the monk sat cross-legged on the ground, eyes half closed, body unmoving, as though he had become part of the earth itself.
Arjun tried to imitate him. At first, he managed to sit still for a few moments, but soon his legs ached, his back complained, and his thoughts scattered like restless birds. Memories, desires, and fears all rushed through his mind.
One morning, frustrated, he cried out, "Master, why can't I be still like you? The more I try, the noisier my mind becomes!"
The monk opened his eyes and looked at the flowing river beside them.
"Do you hear the river, child?" he asked.
Arjun nodded. The water rushed endlessly, its song filling the air.
"The river does not fight its flow," the monk continued. "It moves, yet it is at peace. Your mind is the same. Do not try to silence it by force. Sit like the river—allow the current to pass, and simply witness."
Arjun listened. He closed his eyes again, and this time, he did not struggle. He allowed thoughts to come and go, just as ripples came and went across the river's surface. Slowly, for a brief moment, he felt something new—stillness not forced, but natural, like the pause between two breaths.
It was only a flicker, gone as quickly as it came, but it left a trace in his heart.
Later that evening, as the sky turned violet and the stars began to appear, the monk said softly,
"The world has taught you to fight everything—your hunger, your fear, your desires. But the path within is not a battle. It is surrender."
Arjun looked at the river again. For the first time, it no longer seemed just water. It was a mirror, reflecting the secret of life itself.
That night, lying on the ground under the open sky, Arjun felt a quiet joy rise within him. He was still restless, still uncertain, but a door had opened. The river had become his first teacher.