The Song of the River
He said he would take a long walk,
By seven he would start,
Take a brisk walk for 30 minutes - as far as legs could carry.
He would make a return and be back by 8:00.
And so, Dear friends, he begins-
A brisk pace, a heart yearning for the beauty and the freshness he would draw in.
Feet compete with early risers,
Past the Gopuram gate,
Past the fruit vendors,
Past the bank,
Now comes he to the marriage hall,
A sight of curious westerners looking at what wondrous sight I scarce can guess.
Turning to the right our pilgrim spies a few small eateries,
The rush in the road is thinner,
No early risers to take a long walk like our dear pilgrim !
Behold! The bridge over the sacred river.
To the left , a sight that pained his eyes - garbage strewn bank and bed !
Early rag-pickers, those women peering into the filth for what He knew not!
To the right his eyes light on a pool of dirty green water -
Issuings of a dhobi ghat!
Alas! Dear Friends! This is the far-famed Chitravathi!
The river sung of highly in the morning prayers!
His longing for freshness still cleaves to his body and soul!
On, on he goes!
A sight most unwelcome to nature-loving eyes!
Butchers everywhere!
Mutton, chicken and fish in abundance!
The growl of dogs at their offal!
Hope there is of some respite from this wrong of humanity!
Walks on ! At crossroads of Karnatanagepalli!
Turning left he beholds the early heaven that inspired the early tales!
The path that was hewn between two massive boulders.
He dares to go on!
His destiny is different!
Dogs , like cerberus lie before!
Those swine protectors!
He turns back to civilization, tired and unhappy!
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