Tribute to my dad

The river was hurtling down the acutely descending slope. She was vibrant and alive as she cascaded joyfully. She had a sense of abandon and seemed unperturbed by what the variegated terrain held in store for her. The rapids smashed into a boulder and instantaneously, there was a shower of million little droplets that endeavoured to reach the inviting skies. In the process they scattered the light into it's spectral constituents lending a surreality to her existence. The very next moment she seemed to assimilate again resuming the unending journey as if nothing happened. She breathed life into the banks that showered their gratitude by breaking into a riot of violet and yellow blooms. Further on as she negotiated a bend, she appeared agitated forming eddy currents swirling into a whirlpool with a force that could destroy. This momentary self indulgence soon mutated to a schizophrenic serenity as she calmed down on more even ground. The Self effacing serenity reflected the clear blue skies with high fidelity. The onward movement continued but with a subtlety that mimicked stillness. She could never be still. Stillness in dynamism was her existential philosophy. She was a picture of "joie de vivre" in myriad forms sprouting and sustaining a plethora of life forms. Her life was moving on, imparting a velocity to all that crossed her path. The exuberance was infectious , the velocity making her buoyant and on occasions demonstrating scant regard to any force pulling her downwards. She definitely knew where she finally was headed but made no fuss about minor detours mandated by the unyielding geography. The occasional hurrying was not to reach the destination but rather a sense of urgency to live the moment to it's fullest. The opposing banks at times conspired to get close enough to snuff the life out of her . But after squeezing herself into obscurity she reappeared unfazed as a rivulet with an air of indomitability to resume her relentless journey. The banks could only momentarily obstruct the form but never the ideology of moving on. She appeared formidable and deep in certain stretches where it seemed impossible to know how deep the waters flowed. Here, she seemed to be very introspective and thoughtful, casually unflinching. In shallower stretches, the waters appeared turbid retaining an earthiness about herself . This turbidity became a sediment after a while and she again regained her pristine form about which she never ever had a doubt . As the journey continued, she seemed to be getting larger and more assertive of her presence. The terrain was more level and less undulating. This part saw her develop so much character to be able to absorb all the effluent and impurities that her subjects emptied into her. She was being used by so many rather indiscriminately but she never showed any dissent. Instead, she swallowed all the effulgent ingratitude stoically whilst never for a moment forgetting her inherent nature of moving on. She could not do otherwise. She was programmed to dilute all the toxic additions to her and yet retain the angelic ability to sprout and sustain life. She now seemed to slow down one last time and looked a bit fatigued as she navigated the deposits of sand in the delta. She effaced herself gradually as she merged into the ocean. Her form became imperceptible but she could still be flowing silently, formlessly as a current, true to her nature.
Such was my father,an eternal energy that could at best only mutate it's manifestation and be indiscernible to the uninitiated.