Teesta Review: A Journal of Poetry, Volume 1, Number 1. May 2018. ISSN: 2581-7094
Teesta and the Transforming Flood of 1968
--- Bashabi Fraser
Where the Kanchenjanga lifts its
Proud peak, opening its ample arms
Wide to capture the majestic stride
Of the sun from the moment it disarms
The horizon, you churn out from the glacial
Chain that reflects the splendour of the range
Which
becomes your impetus to court danger
As
you break free to fulfil your destiny.
I
have stood at the edge of Teesta Bazaar
Balancing
my cup of cha, warily watching
Your
seething green waters below,
As
you warred with the Himalayan rocks, matching
Their
resistance with your own.
I
have leaned over Coronation Bridge
To
send a wishing pebble down
To
dive into your cavernous breach
And
heard its whimpering refrain.
You
were my girlhood river Teesta,
By
whose echoing gorge at Sevoke
I
have picnicked, where the vistas
Of
ranges were witnesses to a bond forged
With
youthful awe, that would soon be revoked.
I
grew up along your strenuous length
Revelling
in your heaving depths and strength
From
the ruminating peace of Kalimpong’s perch -
Before
you leapt with intent and lurched
Towards
Moinaguri and Jalpaiguri,
Those
thriving towns where life’s pace
Had
known the grace of generous days.
But
you had not a mother’s dreams
To
nurture, cherish and sustain.
The
Rangpo, Lachung and Rangeet bring
Rich
tributes to your widening plains
They
fuel your ambitious zeal
That
flouts all prayers and appeals.
I
have seen how in one memorable year
You
moved the heavens to tears
The
retreating Monsoons were strained back
Pulled
by their hair to feed your banks
The
sky was afraid to clear for days
The
incessant rain shared heaven’s pain.
Your
appetite could not be quenched
Till
you had mercilessly drenched
The
land over which you thrashed with glee
In
destructive, vicious ecstasy.
While
cities slept, your waters crept
Through
prosperous streets
Whose
dignity you sought to break.
Before
your waters could retreat
You
urged the placid Karala
To
join your dance of dolour.
But
the folks of gracious towns
In
Moinaguri and Jalpaiguri
Were
not willing to be drowned
And
bow to you in defeat.
They
swung back with alacrity
To
contain you with gravity
And
let your fearful beauty
Turn
from awesome splendour
Transforming
your ingenuity
To
confirm your sanctity -
In
your life-affirming qualities
Of
compassion and candour
That
today call forth
Our
admiration and wonder.