An Ode to Our Dying Rivers-

And The Chadar Runs

 

Crumpled white sheet of snow, by her thigh,

The sleeping Beaut stirs by my side,

Peaceful dreams flicker her eye lashes,

Stretches, yawns & her wave splashes,

She squints at the sun, tosses & turns

And the Chadar runs.

 

Peeps, smiles & sleeps one more dream,

I watch her bosom swell, with each breath she takes,

“Chadar Gorgeous” I whisper & touch, she quivers

Winter hibernate her no more,

Icy nights, a thing of yore,

And the Chadar runs.

 

Wide awake, she dazzles me with her eyes green,

hums a love song from the mountains she had been,

throatily she laughs, as I goose-bump on her embrace,

Snuggles close to my chest, last time she does,

Leaves her fresh breath on my neck, she kisses adieu

And the Chadar runs.

 

I watch the pristine Chadar undulate away,

through the valley, with a woman’s sway,

In the know of her fate, I sigh in vain,

Beauty to be soon sullied by sewage drain,

Polluted, tainted & dishonored by us, ask I why

Ravaged, Oh muffled the Chadar will cry.

 

And yet the Chadar runs.

And yet the Chadar runs.

 

Done