The river is flowing to the full,
a sight to wonder,. The townspeople
rush,They are all eyes
Pious as they are, they prostrate
offer flowers, and take arathi.
Priests from shrines gather
conduct homams on the banks .
Newspapers flash pictures
with write ups elaborating
the rituals. The river flows
untouched by the fanfare.
Little do they know of their duty
one of the foremost to conserve
the resources, water being
the essential. They flout, abuse,
finally lose the bounties. To redeem
they pray, beseech and plead.
Melodramatic, I feel.