The woman on the banks of the Ganges..

The woman was sitting at the same place over a rock in the banks of the Ganga river.
It was the third day consecutively that I found her on the same spot.
Her anchal of the blue saree gently blowing in the wind, her sleepers lay in the sand, her naked feet playing with the grains of sand , marked with all signs of unconciousness.
Her eyes looking at a distant though it seems, that she is hardly looking at anything particularly.
She looks very impatient, restless.
I am staying in Hardwar for last one year. I never found any woman sitting in such a posture with negligible movement of limbs.
The woman captured my attention. I stopped walking and came and seat over a bench near the river.

It is quarter to five now in the morning. The first rays of sunlight slowly getting visible in the vast sky which just shaded off the colour of the night. The breeze that is coming from the Ganges is wet, fresh and lively. The surrounding blue hills slowly assuming the golden light of the sun. Numerous birds flying with their colourful wings. The sweet swinging sound of the river water gradually getting mixed up with other colloquial sounds as the city is getting awake.

Ganga is beautiful here. She looks like just a virgin glorious young lady who goes on with a distinct pride of beauty and innocence.
She is much stable here. She is much reserved.
It is really wonderful to see the Ganga river flowing in three differnt portraits.
In contrast to Hardwar, the river had much speed in Hrishikesh and in Lachmanjhula
she is too fast, bubbly and hilly with great speed as she is just coming down from the glacier of Gomukh.
Hardwar is getting busy. If you are a visitor it is the best time to enter Hardwar.
I first came to Hardwar in my college days through Doon Express and I entered the city
during this time.

It was winter….the morning fog covering a large part of the road though the sky slowly getting clear….the tangas moving with the horses ….from all the roads people walking towards the Ghat …. Numerous pilgrims..local people.. from eight to eighty walking towards the river carrying towels in their back and a mug( locally called ghati) in their hand, needed for taking a dip in the water and for the Suryastaba( Prayer to the Sun) as the first light appears in the sky….there was a tremendous hubbing sound near the ghat .sound of so many people talking, chanting , whispering….pandas calling from the roadside in numbers ‘Baba Daksheswarer darshan hobe?’, mainly in Bengali(Calling for a visit and worship of the Lord Daksheswar) ….hawkers also selling their goods among which you can get everything….people of all caste, religion can be seen there.. it was wonderful and stunning ..as before me lay.. a mini edition of India.

I walked along..
Looking at the woman..
She became the greatest mystery to me..and also the subject of interest.
I thought of going to her and breaking her solitude but can not.
I have no right to interfere in her personal matters or her silence.
From next day she was not there.
But I remember her still.
I doubt whether I can forget her anyday.
As she remain a picture of loneliness..melancholy silence to me..
Or may be she would remain to me as a poem with lyrics of uncherished moods..forever!