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© Vasundhra Agrawal


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A small village Chakradhara is situated on the bank of Ganga River; an ancient village having the history of glorious past of Rishis and beautiful maidens; the halt of great Himalayan Warriors; the Paradise of great valleys; once had the power to revive the soul from its slumber, to spring them with the nectar of eternal joy and bestow the tortured soul a repose and asylum; but now, itself, is in the need of its redeemer who can redeem it from the clutches of so called modernity; a vampire, who is suffocating the earth with its poisonous sniffs, making the earth a satanic place where the humanity has creeping on the materialistic ground leaving the       shedding of its inner consciousness.

The sound of ripples coming from the shore is ruffling the tranquility of the serene surroundings, a girl with the tangled and ruffled brownish hair is standing there with a basket of leaves and flowers; beseeching to the customers who throngs on the river side, to sell her beautiful garlands. She is an ignorable figure as the people are passing by her side without paying any attention to deep down in the stream of Ganga who is flowing silently on the foot of Himalaya; she is flowing as the Himalaya is shedding the tears to see his beloved, tied in the chains of religious rituals as the love and religious reverence has become the cause of her suffocation.  A yogi, in the state of austerity, has the vision of that girl and find that she is none other than Ganga herself who is shedding the tears and perceiving everything silently; Is this the love that people are not paying attention on me and rasping my throat; how long can I survive; I have to perish; is there any Shiva, who can revive me and sense my deplorable condition now I have become old and has lose the power to purify the humanity from their sins. When yogi saw all this, he went to her and what he saw; her eyes are wide open; face has been dried up and breathing rapidly and falling on the earth, yogi gave her support and said to her, “what happened Ma, you are the cause of my being and you yourself is dying, how does the human line will survive if you will leave us; have pity on us.” The Ganga replied, “ I have the pity on you, o man! When you came in the form of Bhagiratha and persuade me, I came from heaven by passing through the Jeta of shiva to the remission of humanity but you selfish man make me so deplorable that now I am on the verge of destruction while you people call me immortal Ganga, “what a ridiculous situation is this, that now I have to pray to you for my salvation; O yogi, you knows everything as in your yognidra you can wanders in the phases of time and have seen my glorious past when all the great sages used to come here for their salvation; how much they loved me; they touched me with divine inspiration and made me more pure but today people throws their waste in me and consider me a picnic spot to enjoy their unpurified drinks and food and do the adulterous activities on my banks: “you tell me yogi, How, I can tolerate all this, while I have seen the holy sages who were devoted to me and loved me more than their lives.” Hearing all this the yogi is stunned and in his heart take the oath to revive Ganga; he went to many places; first time, he is coming down with Ganga and is astonished to see Ganga; the scene is beyond his imagination; at the ghats of Banaras, where every year numerous people get their salvation; he sinks down in his heart and with tears mourns loudly; people gather there and ask him “what is your sorrow? Have you lost your near and dear ones and came here for the funeral.” He replied “yeah I am broken as I lost my mother.” One person asks him “where is the pyre?” The yogi pointed toward the flowing river, “this is the pyre of my mother.” People laughed at him and went away; he was lying on the earth as the face of ruined Ganga is in front of his eyes. Then he decided to go to the origin of Ganga; he climbs and climbs to the mountains of Uttarakhand and finally with palpations and tattered cloth reached there and sat at the foot of Alaknanda river who is coming down from the up mountains and flowing beside the Kedarnath Temple; he  apologied with the Gangajal in his Palm, “o! My immortal mother I am your culprit as I was sitting up the mountains in my meditation avoiding you and there people are destroying your dignity; what type of Yognidra is this that I can’t feel your pain while you came down from your heavenly place to redeem our forefathers. Damn on us: with these words there came a sound of thunder and blast; the horrible sound of cloudburst which can tear the heart and ear of people; with that sound, there came a firestorm of water; the flood which washed away that yogi with many other innocent lives;    as she is doing all this with revenge motif and thundering with the words:           


“Nature is not only soft and silky; she takes revenge to teach the lesson even to her child if they cross their limits. This is the law of nature to redeem herself.” 


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