|
|
|
|
Articles: Short Stories | An encounter with Ganga
- Prof. venkata ramanamurty mallajosyula
| |
“You mean, where do I originate from? From high up in the Himalayas! A glacier is my source,” informed Ganga. ”There I’m known by a different name; I’m called Bhagiradhi. The mouth of the glacier is known as Gaumukhi, because it is shaped like the mouth (mukha) of a cow (gau)”
“So, you begin your journey as Bhagirathi,” murmured Rita, unable to check her curiosity. ”But where exactly you change your name to Ganga?” she asked.
“Here at Devaprayag!” answered Ganga. ”I’m all alone in the beginning. Later, I’m joined by other streams or rivers. They are my tributaries. When I reach Allahabad, the rivers Yamuna and Saraswathi join me. At a place called the Sangam. Much later at Patna the river Gandak meets me.”
Rita was excited. ”So, just flow along wit your tributaries!” she remarked.
Ganga nodded; she seemed to have guessed what Rita had in mind. ”Perhaps you don’t know, Rita, that as I flow downhill and once my tributaries join me, my flow become strong and rocks get pushed, not to speak of stones, soil, twigs, in fact anything that comes on my way. But when I reach flat terrain, my flow slows down and I can’t carry heavy objects, any more. Soon I move through the mangrove forests of the Sunderbans and my joy knows no bounds! I split into hundred streams before loosing myself in the vast, blue expanse of the Bay of Bengal! I deposit whatever I’ve carried all through my long journey, from the hills to the sea, and that’s how I form my delta. Did you know that mine is 400 km wide and it is the largest in the world?”
“What a fantastic journey!” exclaimed Rita. She then asked; ”The sea has lot of fish, both big and small. Do you also have fishes living in your waters?”
“Of course, I do!” replied Ganga. ”I have fish, crabs, and shrimps which are caught by the people living on my banks and also by birds and other creatures. My water is used for drinking and for watering the farms on my banks. That reminds me; the Indo-Gangetic plains through which I flow in the most fertile region in the country.”
Rita smiled. Suddenly her brows furrowed. ”Ganga,” she asked, “You’re. doing so much for the people, but I’m afraid they’re not taking care of you. Why is the water here is clear, and it’s so dirty in Allahabad?”
“You’d be shocked to hear Rita. About 1,7 billion litres of chemical effluents are dumped into my waters by factories that have cropped up on my banks. People bathing in my waters get skin diseases; many of my fish aquatic creatures and plants die every day. Tons of plastic and other are thrown into my waters. They choke me and cut off my oxygen supply. People indiscriminately cut trees growing on my bank, and large quantities of soil is washed away. If all these activities continue, I may soon fall ill.”
| Read 1 Comment(s) posted so far on this Article!
| |
|
|
|
 |
| Advertisements |
|
|
|
|
| Advertisements |
|
