[ultimate_heading main_heading=”The Ganges, Poem by Prayash Gupta – Issue.XIX : August 2016 ” main_heading_color=”#1e73be” sub_heading_color=”#8224e3″ spacer=”line_with_icon” spacer_position=”bottom” line_style=”dotted” line_height=”1″ line_color=”#1e73be” icon_type=”custom” icon_img=”id^48|url^http://ashvamegh.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Ashvamegh-ICO.jpg|caption^null|alt^Ashvamegh Journal Icon|title^Ashvamegh ICO|description^null” img_width=”48″ main_heading_style=”font-weight:bold;” main_heading_font_size=”desktop:34px;” line_width=”3″ margin_design_tab_text=””]the Ganges… perpetual flow & timeless[/ultimate_heading]

Introduction to the Poet:

Prayash GuptaPrayash Gupta is the author of “Ishwar pick up call” (Novella), “Poetry Pilgrimage” (Poetry) and “Poetry in Paradise” (An Anthology). Born at the ‘Queen of Hills’, Darjeeling, he loves to write in different literary genres and has published articles in international journals and participated in many conferences. Working as an Assistant Professor in a college, he adores shaping out the minds of budding students by inculcating them an interest in literature and creative writing.


 

 

The Ganges

Contaminating, decontaminated contamination

Polluting, control of ceaseless pollution

Spontaneously, not identical the sail of stream on the sand storm

Ceaselessly I flow from my motherly womb of Gangotri,

Executing my deeds- ‘Karma yoga’

Without blinking my eyes like that of an Owl in the frozen night

Time has witnessed my actions….

And I have witnessed the action of men

You constructed The Wall in my course…but still I dribble

Through those nine and twenty cities

Tying knot with the evergreen trees, pure gentle breeze

The mesmerizing solitude of the meadows

Silently I move on …. whispering millions of

Unspoken words in the mood of gay.

Ay, where are they now…. where are they?

Did they disappear with time or

The controller of time consumed them…I know not…

But… Behold…

The factories in their place

And from their chimneys…the endless smoke

Evocating me of my lovely dear breeze…

Oh! I forgot to mention about a gift I got…

‘Industrial Effluent’, They call it…

Making me blackish brown,

Contaminating, they call it

Decontaminated contamination

Polluting, they call it

Control of ceaseless pollution

But what about my Dolphin?

What about thousands of marine creatures who live with me?

Are they going to survive? I know not…

But still they do not protest for their survival…

Rather I see their number subtracted…

With the flow of Time or rather the flow of me…

Are they in the mood to disappear…

Or were compelled to disappear like my dear trees… I know not

 

Oh dear lord! Where are my friends?

Please bring back those Trees and Dolphins…

So that I can flow once again

Whispering millions of unspoken words

In the mood of gay.

I pray every single moment I flow…

Are my prayers answered? I know not

It might be in a long queue

As hundreds and thousands of people

Come to bath in me and pray…

Even if their body is contaminated, they care not

Some pure Spiritual seeker, some soulful contaminated body

Some soulless life, some fire consumed ashes after funeral pyre

Floats on me… Takes bath

To purify their past deeds, they say

Did I come to purify you?

Oh yes, I came from The Shivji’s hair

At Bhagiratha’s call….

To purify the ashes of his ancestors…

And from then, I have been flowing on

Witnessing all that I have witnessed

 

Oh! Just let me flow my way

And silently sleep along the lines of bay…