Ganges boy on the Gangetic spree
The poem is an attempt to put forward the poet’s views on how we treat a river which we call our mother. While showcasing the approach of spring with its burst of colours, processions and birdsongs, the poem highlights the bitter reality of a polluted Ganges.
Off the shore, amongst the flow all green
Looking at the mother, teeming with life… it must now preen
It started around lentil fields, holy colours, or all plastic
Divine; thought wide and living, no water… dramatic and drastic
A griffon whom once all knew, became outlander
Cawed to lie… barked to fly; I so wonder, all it does is wander?
What comes next shook me with shock and surprise!!
Although known and read, filters mildly disguise
Friends of the race who now rule the land
Devouring the flesh of Lord’s grace to sand
Denizen of the doomed… Are they? I wonder!
A thrust beyond which, even clouds don’t thunder!
And on the shore, not a single bird is seen to breed
With their bills all open, found snail neither caste nor creed
What chore shall be done by the infant bull blue?
With horses and cows, the grass green goes without adieu
Flowing without water, purity at dis-ease
Bloated mass of carbon, invisible ageing crease
And “hey” I said, “I think I saw a carapace on water”
Is it?? Damn, it’s another skull that seem to flutter
Neither stream-up nor down, single fin been found
Is it, the effect of the metal pontoon bound?
Meanders and braids and rifles and raids
I wish I could see some land, without human kraits
At least kraits are better, they do their business
Unlike us, the hefty invaders, we harass without distress
Now the pirates’ fleet came to my view
Piercing bamboo and brimming buckets, is that all what they knew?
Looted the sunken, for every penny that they can
Without a word, holy mother still spared the clan
After which nothing was seen, and I… I was delighted
But as silence prior thunder, my lips I bite-d
Machine so huge, a dredger pierced earthen grains
Chewing, cutting, throwing up in the air, with diligence it drains
Slighter logic and superior law, and manly lust which grows
Devouring the untouched, all is done with man’s brows
‘Not on land, but in water’, the evil debris is blown
Deepening here and settling down… as it is flown,
The blown carry toxins isn’t settled that easy
Bursting like cancer, innocent hands all greasy
Anabranches, grassy meadow, rock islands, and bound clocks
An eel, two otters, ‘eighteen skimmers’, after few meander blocks
A breath here another there, with spark it ignited
A fin with the fluke and a beak with melon, each one awed and excited
We were counting and counted more while moving
“Dolphins now seem okay, but till when?” I asked, voice all shaky and grooving
Further down we go, the river runs wide,
Few confluences we met with, the water here seems not-dried
A river with magnificent width became all grey
With dirt and no flow, appeared like a lake, it made me pray
Here, is a story, facts recorded with a degree
Presented by a Ganges boy, who is on the Gangetic spree…
Read also: Junglimericks: In the Crazy Wilds of India
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