I have returned to the lap of the magnificent Garhwal Himalayas even though briefly. As I sit here and look out upon the Ganga, I am overcome by an emotion that is hard to describe. There she is in all her majesty, flowing along serenely, the blue of the sky and the lush green of the mountains vying with each other to imbue her with their pigment. But she seems oblivious to them. The sound, as she negotiates one of the countless bends on her course, is a muted roar- perhaps a gentle reminder that she could turn fearsome if provoked. The midday sun glints off her icy cold waters as a tiny sparrow flits its wings and goes for a romp downstream. On a nearby bank, a group of sadhus seem lost in meditation, contemplating, perhaps, the impermanance of life and realising that mankind owes its all to the Holy Mother- the giver of life and if provoked beyond reason, the destroyer.
Ganga, thou art the ultimate beauty. So gentle, serene, benevolent and yet we abuse thee. Oh mother Ganga, forgive us but teach us that we are mere insignificant mortals at thine glorious feet and make us realise that you are the very fount of life. For, should you decide that you no longer want to remain on this accursed plane, life as we have known it will cease to exist.
Oh holy Ganga, I salute thee.
