Mourning of a River

By Dibyendu Maiti

Thousands of years ago I came on this earth with great fight

To give the sons of Sagar Raj a respite.

Since then, I am flowing here

Still people of India cannot find a suitable pair.

Someone calls me Bhagirathi, someone Ganga 

Someone remembers me as Hooghly, someone Padma.

I sustain innumerable lives of this land

And bring profusion with fertile sand.

Farmers, fishermen and businessmen always adore me

As if I am the progress of key.

I withstand their progress

Endure silently all the redress.

I silently smile with moonlight 

Hear the chirping of birds or see the beautiful sight.

I always aspire for their betterment 

Years after years they use me for settlement.

Innumerable Ghats are set up along my banks

To offer their puja floating flowers with great thanks.

They use my water for every holy purpose

 And take a dip to relieve from curse.

I bear everything with great meekness

But they increase pollutants in huge thickness.

I am writhing with intolerable pain

Yet everyone gives importance only for material gain.

As civilization advances rapidly

Daily they will pollute me silently.

I endure all their evil deeds with motherly affection

But none can give me any attention.

Sometimes I become furious with them

Ravage everything with unbearable shame.

My children become homeless

And wildly mourn for being peerless.

Then I realize my folly

Trying to prove desperately as I am really holy.

Day by day I am pained for the contamination

That gradually fades my power of attraction.

One day time will come, nothing will remain

Thousand efforts will then go in vain.

By Dibyendu Maiti