I couldn't make out the face, but he was doing something in the water, hands moving with a deliberate, rhythmic grace. He wasn't fishing, nor washing clothes. There was a different purpose in his actions, a connection to the river itself.
Then, without conscious thought, the words began to form on my lips. They resonated from deep within me, a rhythm older than I, older than the trees, perhaps even older than the river itself.
"Oṃ namaste gaṇapataye. Tvam eva pratyakṣaṃ tattvamasi..."
I finished the Atharvashirsha, the final notes lingering in the air. A profound peace settled over me, a sense of completion I had never experienced before. The river was still again, its dark surface reflecting the dappled sunlight.
The feeling of peace stayed with me throughout the day. The challenges I faced seemed less daunting, the obstacles less challenging. The anxieties that had clouded my mind had cleared, replaced by a quiet confidence.