when torn clouds bared blue holes the river brimmed with ecstasy.
it had rained the whole day and she was bursting in seams to tell her side of the story from the many upon her shore's mangrove.
how the tiger guards her treasures, prawns and ***** and honeys and woods,
pounces from the saline thickness of the mist when dream of life is heavy on the gatherer and smell of death far gone forgotten
rips the flesh cracks the skull open flows the blood as silent night carries the trophy for a bony rest till devoured by her floodwater.
the river knows it too well
the tiger is her lover and loyal sentinel.
The Sunderban tigers prey upon the fishermen, crab catchers, woodcutters, and honey gatherers who venture into their territory, more often illegally, driven by the lure of the wealth in the river and on her shores.