What I’ve Learnt - Musings on a day spent by the river.

The sprawling city that captures the heart of those who dare behold its magnificent glory, where one is subjected to piercing tranquillity amidst chaos.

The city of dreams and wishes fulfilled, of rags and riches that enthral all alike. The city of hope, and the city of light, the city that to me, came to a standstill that day.

The steady flow of routine bustle and traffic continue to engulf my ears, even as the pungent miasma synchronises with the sights of plastic mounds and poultry to ring out wails in mourning, as I look around in epiphant confusion, ready to blackout at any moment. For what could I possibly do, except close my eyes and feign ignorance, even in the wake of destruction?

The breath-taking sights of the morning sun gleaming over the magnificent Chembarambakkam (a dam in Chennai, India) slowly fade away as we move from one tragic view to another.

Anakaputhur (name of a river-bank), brought to me, a startling call to the acute reality where irony lies in the fact that we’ve risked destruction of what brings life to the city, in order to keep the city alive under the alias of crude development.

Where irony lies in the fact that in the process of slaying animals to feed our hunger, the river that quenches our thirst has been neglected and dumped with cadavers.

Kotturpuram, (another river-bank) where the bleak, less illustrious side of the coin called industrialization lies exposed under the sun overhead, as satire continues to scorn.

Bricks and shattered glass lie strewn aplenty across what used to be a hazy green meadow, as stark hiraeth occupies my mind. I wonder what this bank would’ve looked like, and if, like all other banks, this one too might someday hold things precious and safe.

YMCA brings with itself, another forlorn sight. What seems to be a cheery colourful inlay in the otherwise dull brown soil turns out to be nefarious plastic remains, eternally embedded as a reminder of our guilt.

Years of misfortune have piled upon this river that once ran mighty across the city, and what remains is, but a shell of its former glory. A shrivelled tragic remnant of a toy misshapen in the hands of a cruel base world.

Yet all these thoughts slowly ebb away in the face of the glossy waters that reflect the late afternoon sun that shines above the Adyar Poonga (Tamil for 'park').

Like Beauty locked away in the heart of the Beasts castle, the alluring waters cascade in a seductive trance, secluded away from the lustful eyes of those beyond the fence that surrounds the park.

The isolated beauty stands nurturing and tall, the meandering stream symbolic of the idyllic grace that envelopes us in a comforting embrace, for what do we have to look up to, if not hope?

And hope it is, that the location instills in the hearts and minds of all those present. Hope, and another sanguine thought about what this river needs.

What the river needs, is another river to course within.

A river that embodies a doting lovers’ devotion; a patriots’ watchful eye that cares for the tricolour; a mother's’ nurturing clasp around her child’s hands and a teacher’s pride in the endeavours of a beloved pupil.

A river whose waters are infused with our empathy for the drops of sweat that glisten on a farmers forehead, and his tears of joy at the first monsoon showers.

A river that courses through the veins of every man, woman, child and creature that seeks asylum in this spectacular land of opportunities.

A river of hope, sensitivity and courage.

A river whose existence within me is What I’ve Learnt.

(Check out 'Neerottam', an NGO deoted to River and Biodiversity restoration.)

https://www.facebook.com/Neerottam/posts/adyar-river-walk-with-lalajimemorialomegainternationalschool/225498731372618/