On the cruel destruction of the Yamuna flood plain.
What the Yamuna felt and wanted to say to  Ravishankerji
Remove the shrubs
cut the trees
level the ground
fill-up all the low lying areas
we will make it aesthetic and beautiful
we will erect huge structures representing our culture
we will dance
sing songs
we will call millions of people
to celebrate and make them part of a family
‘vasudhevkutumbakam’ is our tradition!
She cried:
please don’t do it
this is my space
I flow here
These trees and shrubs
are my part
I exist in them
this place is my home
I have built it by toiling for hundreds of years
don’t ruin it please!
But He was full of his own self 
which had left no space 
 for listening to the cries of yamuna
who was standing before Him with
folded hands
tears rolling down her eyes.
With stoic silence
and dreamy eyes
He imagined the ocean of crowd
bending before him in obeisance
praises and praises everywhere
and his words like a melody
putting the crowd in a hypnotic trance.
He demolished Her home mercilessly
bruised and injured
she wept and wept
cried for help
but mindlessly to fulfil his dream 
He went on a rampage
to see her complete ruin.
He only saw the magnificent palace
a mammoth structure colourful and decorated
He smiled and His eyes showed a streak of victory.
"It is so aesthetic
so beautiful
so serene
does it not show:
unity in diversity!!”
He said.
"I am the world
world is my home!”
He proudly announced.
Crowd of millions trampled her body
Writhing  in pain she cried
butmesmerised in a frenzy
they clapped and cheered
on whatever he said.
Hurt, injured, unable to speak
she complained to the sky
to the wind and clouds
to the day and night 
to Her Creator:
save me from this cruelty
from the hands of brutal forces
who are wearing masks of innocence. 
 Where have they gone  
 who searched the mysteries of Nature 
 and found the presence of God in it.
 who were those 
 who saw krishna playing on yamuna’s bank 
and wrote hymns of love and worship.
Where do we find
those who saw the eternity flowing in rivers
found it in trees, birds, butterflies
ponds, lakes, water-falls
and filled with joy 
 ran to the mountain top
to celebrate the colours of spring
spread on the river bank!
I gave whatever I had
to youwith both hands  
your children grew in my lap 
I nurtured your emotions,
caressed when you were in pain
and kept your tender thoughts 
in the crevices of the sand.
Before my eyes you learnt slowly to crawl and walk
I know how desires, jealousies and ego 
over-powered knowledge, love and compassion.
Please don’t tell me what is our
culture and tradition
It is woven on my plains and floats in my waves.
I am today deeply hurt:
more than your acts
your hollow words pierce me.
How an ambitious mind
can ever understand the mystery  of relationship
andrealise how selfish hands 
have robbed the dreams of our own children
 who wanted to play on the sand
i still don’t curse you
you are also my child
butmiles and miles away from me.
Alas, had you known that the god-head 
 which flows 
 in this eternal consciousness
 manifests in nature
and that truly
is our spiritual heritage!
(The author of the poem is a senior advocate in the Supreme Court of India and also Vice President, People's  Union for Civil Liberties, PUCL)




Related Articles