"bhagirathi" poems
over a snow-covered mountain top in heaven
some secret river lies
stirring not earthwards
this river of the Gods
and then a prince disturbs
her peaceful ferocity
with determined prayer to cleanse
the sins of his forefathers
Look she trembles with wounded pride!
Not a mere mortal river is she
a Goddess, her anger awakened
but she must proceed
the Gods have asked her so she shall go
but she makes her displeasure known
threatening to swallow all of existence
she follows
the earth shakes
it cannot hold her weight
her power her strength her majestic gait
life-giver, she is now a messenger of death
in her anger she is beautiful,
this world cannot sustain her
only he who wields the trident
can reign in her fall
and then the Mahadev traps her
even as she falls in a mighty torrent
thinking she will sweep him
to the nether regions
in his locks she is lost
struggling, she resembles
the naga around his neck
she spits like a cobra
this immortal river
stays tangled in his locks for many a year
till, defeated and frustrated
she begs forgiveness
and then with his blessings
she trickles down
still furious in pace
but in heart at peace
the mother of all rivers-
this river of rebirth
her sound like thunder
her hair like streaks of lightning
celestial beings witness
the skies are lit
the parched earth satiated
Ganga has descended
as Bhagirathi
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
03.09.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 3:32 AM UTC
HAJARO NADIA BAHATI
VASHUDHA KI CHHATI PAR
NALE BHI PUJATI
BHAGIRATHI KI MATI PAR
BHAGIRATH KE ANURODH SE, BRAMHA KE VARADAN ME NIKALI MAA SURYA VANSH KO TARANE. BAHATI THI KABHI MAND SANGEET ME RUKI HUI HAI AB KIS PIR ME.
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 6:00 AM UTC
O Ganga!
You flow
Across the mighty
Mountains
O your youthful
Playful force
Making its way
Through the
Ancient boulders
Stream after stream
Joins you
To find its destiny
Happily
In your depths
To make you
O the vast Ganga we know
The Aryans found their
Abode on your banks
You saw the rise of Jainism
And Buddhism
O civilization
Not only flourished
But flowered
On your banks!
You've seen it all!
You travel down the Tehri dam
Across Rishikesh
And Haridwar
From the cow's mouth
O the Gomukh
Where your mother
Glacier Gangotri rests!
You enter the plains
Having crisscrossed
Roads many
And lives
Of many a being
Who consider you
As mother
Worship you
You bear their brunt also
Carrying heaps of
Garbage
You flow Kanpur
You see tanneries
And many more
You nourish them
Keep them running
But they end up
Slowing your run
You reach Allahabad
What's in a name
A tryst of cultures
O you have the
Gangs Jamuni doab
And Gangs jamuni tehzeeb!
Your sisters join you
And here at Prayag
You have Yamuna with you
O a mythical sister
Saraswati does find here way to you
They say
Life goes on on your ghats
As usual
People washing clothes
Themselves
And people offering
Flowers and performing
Rituals on your banks
O all but consider you
As an earthly mother
A heavenly gift
Just like Saraswati
You have your place in the scriptures as well!
You also
Flow out of mythology
Into our minds
O the mighty Shiva
Took you
In his mighty curls
Of hair
To allay your spirit
As you descended
Onto the Earth
To purge peoples
Lives
The Bhagiratha's
Penance you saw then
He got back his wish
Thousand brothers
They say
O you but still see
The Kumbh Mela(fair)
So many souls
You see the serenity
Of Varanasi
The beautiful spirituality
Of its
Ghats
O young wrestlers
Massaging before
The day's fight
Alongside
Seers in
Deep meditation
On your banks
O you have settled
This city
You flow across
Patna
The ancient
Pataliputra
Seen many imperial
Rise and falls
History echoes in you
You enter Bengal
The fertile
Gangetic plains
Bear testimony
To your gifts
With their lush green
And swaying fields
The Farakka barrage
Sees you in one of your
Giant avatars
You irrigate
And touch people!
You flow as the Padma in
Bangladesh
O you know
Two lands separated
By political shadows
You flow
As Bhagirathi
Hooghly
In Bengal
The rice bowl!
O your Ilish(Hilda)
People do relish
You flow graciously
Through
Flat extensive plains
Past Kolkata
The city of joy
And into the sea
At Gangasagar
Taking with you
So many memories
And promising
The continuity
Of your divine
Grace
O dear river,
You are Ganga!
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 6:57 AM UTC
I walked down the snow-covered land.
It was windy but I could not breathe.
As I walked, the snow under my feet whispered,
'there are lovers more in love than about who Shakespeare wrote,
but such stories once heard get stuck in the throat'.
So, there I lay down on the snow,
the snow felt warm.
It narrated the story of a man and a land.
How the land love the man and the man loved the land.
The man's love was the one that would last forever.
It was not the kind that would sink into your heart
but float right through it so your waves long for more.
The man loved so much that,
the cold snow on the land made the man's blood boil
and the land stayed warm.
The land loved the man so much that,
her rocks became his stage
and he acted his last act with love.
The man love the land and so much that,
his breath made her tricolour hair fly.
The land loved the man so much that,
her shrieks turned him into an artist
and he painted it all red.
The man loved the land so much that,
his blood left his body to embrace her
just the way Bhagirathi descended on mother Earth.
The land loved the man so much that,
she embraced him tight under her snow blanket to protect him.
The man loved the land so much that
his body lay on the land
while their stories loved each other.
The land loved the man so much that
she let the man lie on her
while she was crushed under all the weight she held.
His body was still holding the land,
the snow was still red.
The man loved the land so much that he died for her.
The land loved the land so much that she lived for him.
Aug 14, 2020
Aug 14, 2020 at 11:54 PM UTC