As I took off from the land of dreams,
Of love, patience and families,
Of homes, of the Sun and the rain,
Of enormous joys and of pains.
Through wet eyes I saw something pretty,
Screaming loud in it's winding path,
I saw the mighty Ganges.
She was there thousands of feet below,
Yet looked so beautiful and full of glow,
The Sun was shining hard on her,
No clouds there were between me and her.
The channel was open for some thoughts,
Between a mother and a son on the run,
Running away from his home for greener pastures,
From his mother so old and full of love.
Her meandering ways, her glistening water,
Her glorious past, her humble luster,
Her soothing sounds, her sandy banks,
Were not enough for her daughters and sons.
The thousands of fairs and crores of people,
Billions of sins and countless bodies,
All dissolved into her over thousands of years,
And yet she was there for her children.
She looked up and saw another of her children go,
Yet she smiled for she was too busy and old,
Her currents were strong and history rich,
Not strong enough to cross the thousands of feet between.
She went about her daily chores,
Of cleansing others, quenching thirsts,
Of consuming remains, humans and waste,
Of saying goodbye to people in haste.
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