A river hides a river inside
May be it has more
By dissolving identities numerous
A river flows.

In the womb of a river
Lies a history of disappearing names
Armies of men
Of the periods
That have been dumped  into ocean.

From its birth to end
A river is never same.

A river is cursed
To live up a death every day
In journey of its being.


A river is not a mother
As is the saying revered
Rivers don’t descend from heavens.
In our times contemporary
They are dying civilizations
Shouldering human filth to thousand miles
Before they meet their unnatural demise.

A river hides a thousand truths
Under its transparent waters
While ripples emanating from the streams
Hardly reach the shore.