By Shivani Gupta
Excerpt from my diary entry – 9th April 2013
Crazy limbs bound in harem pants and loose shirt, flying in all direction, eyes brimmed with tears, cold breeze slapping on cheeks to wake me up…but I was lost. I was lost with the crowd underneath tri- color canopy next to Ganga Ghat.
While we were busy releasing our caged inner soul from turmoil’s of hunger and quenches of daily life there was somebody enjoying show stealthily. When our limbs were moving up, down, right and left in chorus, she was lying lazily, stretched and basking under sun. Her charismatic beauty was scintillating with sun reflection and embellished with diamond stars. Her rattling noise against pebbles was like peals of laughter. She was laughing on our complexity and eagerness to evolve and be like her.
Dark clouds on India have only one sadistic tale to narrate. It is unfortunate to see believers of Ganga against her and accusing her to take away lives of their beloved ones. Ganga known to spread happiness, prosperity and divinity is sprawling catastrophically on humanity.
Certainly, something has gone wrong with her. Two months back when I met her she wasn’t like this, she was calm and serene. I have seen long queue of believers, embracing her with holy bath.
Two months back, I met Ganga at Ganga Ghat at International Yoga Festival (IYF) in Rishikesh. IYF was perfect excuse for me to live by myself for seven days, do what I am passionate about – Yoga. Away from hustle bustle of life, with hundreds of Yogi from different nations, performing different styles of Yoga and learning about eternal peace.
Those seven days were slow as each moment was enjoyed fullest. I was away from family, friends and gadgets with social network. I had nothing to tweet or share on face book but to evolve myself as a Yogi. Unexpectedly, in those seven days I became very close to one, I didn’t understand her language, she was different from others. It was due to her presence I never felt to ink my experience in diary.
After morning sessions when everybody dismissed for shower, I rushed in my flip flops, yoga mat pressed between arm pits and clothes drenched in sweat to Ganga Ghat. Spending time in solitude with her was intoxicating. When she was around my fully loaded heart with emotions, flashback stories and gossips was lighter.
On last day, I didn’t meet her as could not muster guts to say her ‘Bye’. I had no choice to be like her; unrestrained and self ruling Ganga.
I am alive and caged happily in my same routine.
- Uttarakhand Floods: Nature’s Fury or Have We Dug Our Own Graves? – Part I (missionsharingknowledge.wordpress.com)
- Photograph divine India on the days of Ganga Dussehra festival (indianeagle.com)
- “Rescue – The victims of Ganga “ (advocatemmmohanaksharaalu.wordpress.com)