The Ganga

Smitten by the sun's golden rays
The wavy waters giggle on.
From a distance, I see with my brows pinched together
The lone man on a thin boat, as he glides away.
But I hear no humming music in the air
And I wonder why poets wrote so.
Thousand million footsteps of lovers
has the shore borne
Their traces have been wiped away
And no one complained.
I stepped onto the launch ever so gently
The familiar smell of the city air struck my nose.
I saw familiar faces squirming.
I saw the bustling busy Howrah Bridge.
The waters underneath clapped in the breeze.
The puja flowers swam hesitantly on it.
They didn't stop though, a I had thought
They flowed to reach the desired destination.
I looked up at the clouds painting the sky mysteriously
But was unable to figure out a specific pattern.
I looked down to find the faces of those happy lovers,
But I met with a muddy reflection of the muddy sky.
When I touched the other side of the river,
I turned back and felt as if it beckoned to me again....
I give in, and I go back.

--This is my city that struggles and never stops,
that looks beautiful in all its muddiness,
that never stops beckoning me
as I willingly plunge into its luxurious lap
Ah! this is my city...the city that breathes and is alive.

--Jayeeta Mazumder