Divine, O Ganga

The holy and sacred river of India, Starts its coarse and lumpy journey from the all mighty and staunchest Himalayas. Its creation and origin from the head of Lord Shiva, Has interested an impressive story in the mythology of India. The tinkling and murmuring sounds of the bells and chimes, The blest chantings of God increasing its amplitude at night time, And the gushing of the water makes it more and more sublime. The place of Bhakti where cows are mothers and worshipped, A dip into the cold and exhilarating water washes away all the sins. Praised by all the Puranas, Granthas and Vedas, She serves as the cradle of fertile lands and aquatic habitat. One drop of this divine body is thought of quenching a man's thirst of good health and peace. The evenings being mesmerized by tintinnabulating and ringing tones of the Ganga Aarti, At the other places and times, it sways and flows with at its top its vanity. Kedarnath, Devaprayag, Haridwar and Varanasi, Earning its fame and getting embraced by the Mother's purity and sacred beauty, Like a mother keeping her children close to her bosom, protecting and providing security from undesired obscurity. The succour of the industrial hubs like Patna and Kolkata, Aiding sustain the lives of a plethora With its water and banks and hallowed aura. Draining into the massive Arabian Sea, Finishing its struggles of sorrows and glee But what about the obnoxious substances which we feed our Mother? How it destroys and saddens her, do we ever bother? The same, holy water, now filthy, Reaches homes and places Consumed by people, nevertheless admiring its beauty. How vile ye are Man! Attempting to contaminate her with thou clan, And using and destroying her for selfish reasons with your plans. O Ganga! May ye pure every soul, And to protect and save you from odds and ends ought to be our supreme goal.