If a river had ears, they would’ve heard songs of the clouds and the rain floating in the breeze above oceans
If a river had ears, they would bring me stories told by gurgling, shrinking glaciers imploding in warming streams
If a river had ears, the waters would know all the secrets of dolphins and mahseer it would play the scores of a whale’s song
If a river had ears, they would be blocked and, when the waves hit the banks, the river losing its balance forgets the course
If a river had ears, those would be pierced their small holes plugged with white pearls stolen from an oyster’s shell
Some rivers have ears like ones flowing through Kashmir, with their dainty drooping lobes, pierced by bullets. Robbed of their red-threaded golden dejhors, the ears echo of unheard miseries.