O Mother,
…to die before You!!
Nila.. A rich and splendid river that has eventually shrunken into a trickle! She's a mother.. Mother of a civilization, a language, innumerable poets, myriad writers, divine arts, sages . and mother of these emotions dripping out of my soul!
Mindless sand mining combined with a whole bunch of other anti-ecological activities have transformed Nila into a desert. The river fills up to the banks only in monsoon when rainwater gushes down at its fullest swing.
The legendary river that adjoins the railway line stretches from Palakkad Station to Thirunavaya! The shores; where myriad folklores sleep. When the train crosses Nila during our visits to papa's home, I look at her with a thirst inside! I crane my neck and look at her till the last glimpse of her; wilting away from my sight! Its my dream to make a small hut in her shores; to live with her.. embracing those sands.. and at last.. to die at those shores!
O Mother, I have come!
In this midnight, in this darkness
At your shores with a dream that woke me up,
The dream that left me midway.. unfinished!
Running through these cracked paths,
Where the creepers died; starving for you,
Where the moon held its blue lantern to guide my eyes,
Abandoning the sleep, and a beautiful dream,
And at last when I fall on your lap…
O Mother River, I have come!
Enfolding you in my arms, to my heart beats and to me,
Buried myself in these pallid sands;
In these golden grains of your heart..
That's outstretched to cuddle your children!
As your thirst spread like memories in my head,
As these lifeless pebbles spread freeze on my nerves,
As the moon rain like blue quills on these shores,
O Mother River, I have come!
On the black boat; tethered on the dead cane,
Where my dreams lay,
Locking hands on back of the head,
Anchoring eyes at the stars,
The boat that lost its wings,
Buried in the sand;
Cherishing the dance of the waves once crossed,
Dreaming the whirls once sunk in,
To gain those wings back; and to dream it again,
O Mother River, I have come!
As the heart melt and flow out of my eyes!
To fill you oh, dried river,
Oh, my mother, my dream, oh my life!
To see you full, to see you flowing;
To see you rich, in the beauty that once enthralled my heart;
My brain, my dreams and my soul!
Countless dreams, those weaved,
In the blue night,
And in the golden sunshine!
Straying in these shores; to gather the past,
O Mother River, I have come!
Back to you oh my Mother River..
To see your anger in the monsoon,
To see you spreading wide,
To see you shimmering in the summer,
To see you dancing,
Reaching out your hands
Hugging the shores, hugging the dried land,
Hugging my soul; pervading the precincts!
To dip in you; as the crimson Sun at the west,
O Mother River, I have come!
That night when you carried this giant dead tree;
Pulling it off from its soil,
Far away, sometime when the rain set war with the soil!
Now, resting on your shore,
Skin withered, the core molded at your pats, your touch!
The wooden flesh shimmering at the sun,
Smooth like a pebble,
And his pledge to be your companion ever!
(Does he believe that you will never get your wings back ' to flow again?!)
To see you cradling the nameless tree,
O Mother River, I have come!
Poets born on your lap,
Fed them the breast of love; filled their imagination,
Gave them dreams; those grazed in these shores!
They dreamt at your lap; floating in the paddle of your lullaby,
Feelings transformed into words;
Carved in the pages of history,
Legends born,
Passion rained in the heart of arts,
How many poems? How many stories?
How many legends; Oh Mother, at your shores?
At last at this sunset; when they create requiem for you,
To cry for you, to kiss your forehead,
O Mother River, I have come!
The splendid river,
At last when you shrunk into these tear brooks,
When you smile at your children;
The selfish children who mined out the heart of you, Mother,
To build their palace,
To bury you in this deep depth of this earth,
When you absorb the beauty of the moon in this night,
And as she mirror in these thousands pools scattered in this sand,
I can feel the pain of your silent yearning to be together and to flow;
Once again in your life!
To die before you mother,
O Mother River, I have come!
Tomorrow, you will be just another piece of land,
A graveyard of memories; graveyard of a lifetime!
The land will win over you; this malice will win over you!
You will fade off; and will remain only in the memories of these dead children,
No one will believe that a splendid river flowed through this land once;
No one will believe;
That there is a river buried in this land;
That a river is sleeping her eternal sleep under these sands,
No one will believe that there is river's heart beating-
Beneath these lands!
O Mother
To die before you,
O Mother River, I have come;
O Mother..!!
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“I feel one of my filial bonds is about to be cruelly snapped. The village is losing a colorful historical past, a nostalgic glory and a cultural legacy. Yes, we have lost all of them, almost."
- M T Vasudevan Nair
(Jnanpeeth award-winning writer for whom Nila's significance is greater than that of the greatest ocean in the world. One among the countless (and helpless) children of this Mother.)
