One of India’s great emperors, Akbar, in his autobiography, Akbar Nama, has written many significant things. But one story is relevant to your question. It was an actual incident.
He had gone hunting in the forest, and then lost his way. The sun was setting – and that was the time for Mohammedans to do their prayer – so he sat under a tree to do Namaz, the Mohammedan prayer.
While he was in the middle of his prayer a young girl ran by his side, almost hitting him as she went by. He could not speak; he was immediately very angry. In the first place nobody in his prayers should be disturbed. And he was not just anybody; he was the emperor of the country. And this girl had not even said, “I am sorry.” She had not even looked back. She went rushing on to wherever she was going.
His prayer finished, Akbar waited for the girl, because she would have to come back to the village. Where she had gone, there was only deep forest for miles.
Finally she came back. Akbar was still angry, and he said, “You seem to be very rude, uncivilized – couldn’t you see that I was praying? And I am not just anybody, I am the emperor of the country.”
The girl said, “I am sorry, but as far as I am concerned, I never saw you. My body may have touched your body, but I don’t even remember that your body touched mine, because I was going to meet my lover, who is coming after many years. I wanted to meet him just on the road that passes a few miles away. And I was so full of my lover and his sweet memories that I was almost not myself. So just forgive me. It was not deliberate on my part to disturb you; I was not even aware of it.
“But I want to ask you one question. I was going to meet just an ordinary lover. And you were praying to the greatest lover of the world, to God, and you were disturbed. You became angry, and you have been waiting here to punish me. It was not prayer. You were repeating those words just like a parrot; otherwise you would not have known who had gone by, who had touched you, you would have been so deeply involved with the ultimate beloved….”
Akbar was a very sensible man – perhaps the most sensible emperor India has known. He asked the girl to forgive him. And she had taught him a great lesson. He told her, “You are right. Your love was authentic. My prayer was false, just routine.”
When the river is dancing and singing and rushing it is going to the ocean to its lover, to its ultimate beloved. There is nothing wrong in experiencing the beauty of this moment. But remember, this beauty has to grow more; each coming moment it has to bring more flowers, more songs, more dances.