My Village Part 4 Our Rivers

My Village

Part 4

Our Rivers

 

 

Cuddling as a mother

holding my village close to her

with her branches as limbs to support

to give the warmth of love and comfort

Mahanadu the great river

to my village a true mother

with her love, service and furry

to instill in the villagers the strength to parry

any catastrophes and calamities

with calm, composure and ease

On her breast of water and sand

villagers fulfill their many a demand.

From infancy to burial for his persistence

each and every villager needs her assistance.

The river changes its color and figure

deep blue to deep yellow water

lean stream with a sweet murmur

to full river with a deafening roar

from soothing current to sweeping flow

at her every posture villagers bow.

Boats to cross with rivers is only mode to go out

in the hot sun, in pitch dark, the boatmen never flout.

The late-night calls to the boatman from the opposite bank

coupled with the howling of jackals, me from sleep still yank.

Her furry of flood often makes a sea

all rivers embrace one another with glee.

Houses are washed out, corps hide underwater.

To high places known to them rush the villagers

without being panicky as if they are meant to endure.

After the flood recedes they return with fervor

to rebuild their houses with mud and bamboo

within a few days, their houses are made new.

the flood washes out filths in ponds and barren fields

fertilizing many lands increasing the yields.

I have not seen any land spoiled by sand

on the whole, the flood there does good to the land.

A day or two and a night or two

a thrill they enjoy that as sufferings one may boo.

Know they well the shallowness and intensity of the current

catch they wooden logs and enjoy the ambient.

Caste, creed are forgotten on the high land

enemies turn friends, strong complies weak’ demand.

As a child with no embankments to arrest

I remember the furry of flood at its best

“worst” my pen refrains to write as the adjective

as man is too small to contemplate His objective.

Concrete houses protective embankments

many more so-called innovations, man invents,

but the life my villagers led, the furriers they braved

despite six decades’ modern exposure still, keep me amazed.

 

 

 

 

(P K Routray

in the service of Lord)

 

 

(N . B -This is the fourth part of my journey in my village surrounded by rivers no bridge no protection then, with little effect of furries of the flood.)