The Man by the River

As I lay near the riverbank, I listened to the song of the flowing water and the sweet symphony of the birds. The breeze was cool, the grass was soft, and for a moment, the world felt perfectly still. It was a kind of peace I could never explain, only feel.
But the farm was waiting, and there was still work to be done.
As I stood up and dusted the grass off my clothes, I noticed a group of tourists walking along the narrow path. They looked lost, staring at a map and arguing about which way to go.
I walked towards them and asked if they needed any help.
Before anyone could answer, I heard one of them whisper, “Oh no, he probably won’t understand us. He’s from around here.”
I paused, then smiled quietly. Pretending not to understand, I asked, “Help need?”
Their faces brightened. They began speaking to me in simple words, pointing at their map and using their hands to explain. I understood perfectly well. They were looking for a homestay near the hills.
I showed them the way, pointing towards the old banyan tree and telling them where to turn. They thanked me with cheerful smiles, and I returned to my farm.
That evening, I carried some firewood to the homestay for the bonfire. The tourists were sitting outside, enjoying the cool air and sipping tea. When they saw me, they recognised me immediately and began speaking in broken English, carefully choosing their words.
Just then, Sharlen walked out of the kitchen.
“Why are you speaking to him like that?” she asked, looking at them with surprise. “He speaks English perfectly well! He’s also the owner of this homestay.”
The tourists fell silent.
Then came the apologies.
“Oh, we’re so sorry!”
“We didn’t know!”
I laughed gently and told them it was all right. They hadn’t meant any harm. They hadn’t mocked me or tried to make me feel small. They had simply assumed something without ever asking.
Still, as I sat beside the fire that evening, watching the sparks rise into the night, I felt a little sad.
I wondered how often people looked at someone like me and decided what he could or couldn’t do before even speaking to him.
I loved my village, my farm, and the river that kept me company every morning. Living here had never made my world smaller. I learned from books, from people, and from the quiet lessons of nature.
The next morning, I returned to the riverbank. The birds were singing, and the water flowed gently over the stones.
I closed my eyes and smiled.
Perhaps the world would be a kinder place if we learned to meet people with curiosity instead of assumptions.
After all, a person may live in a little village, work on a farm, and find happiness beside a river.
And still, his world can be as wide as the sky.

– Christina K Sangma