Holy Ganga

By K.Rajath

O magnificent River Ganga, divine,

Through sacred lands, your waters twine.

From Kailash’s peak, you gently flow—

Sacred stream where even heavens bow.

River of ages, timeless and old,

Where whispered legends gently unfold.

Ever-pregnant Mother, life you bear,

Guiding lost souls with tender care.

Pilgrims kneel where your waters run.

In your waters, they find peace in return.

The holy Kumbh beneath your feet—

Where sins dissolve and hearts find beat.

A single dip—a soul’s rebirth,

Like cleansing rain on dusty path.

You make the land so lush, so wide;

Without you, farmers’ hopes subside.

Patient Mother, you softly cry,

As selfish bodies pollute, when they die.

The dead drift by in sacred flow—

Seeking Heaven, but sink below.

How long, O Ganga, will you endure,

Bearing mankind's stain impure?

O human, heed this truth so stark:

Water can soothe—or leave a mark.

It flows or rests. It climbs or falls.

It wears through stone, as waterfalls.

It carves its path. It breaks the chain.

It births the crop. It brings the rain.

It can become what it cares to be—

A mother singing lullaby,

A final dance of rage beneath the sky,

An elixir to escape from rebirth,

Or wrath that shatters all the earth.

Oh Man, heed the ancient tide,

That swept away pride, greed, and tribe.

From Noah’s Ark to Manu’s grace,

The flood erased the human race.

A fish divine, a boat of fate,

Saved the sages from watery hate.

Yet still you pollute, taint and forget—

But Water remembers every debt.

Water, the womb, the wrath, the wake—

It can make, or it can break.

By K.Rajath