The Tainted River

By Riddhima Sen

The Ganges flows,
Along the banks of the ghat.
The lights shine radiantly;
Along the background of the lavender sky

Of the evening:
The chips packets flow along,
With the Lays’ logo fading away
As time passes by,
With the plastic mixing with the silt,
Dusty grey in hue,
Decomposing potato chips
Lie rotting on the river bed
Filled with numerous other stuffs,

Starting from second hand coins
To paper from used items,
Representing the very filth of the society
Filth,
Covered in putt
But concealed
Behind a silver veil,
Laden with pearls
The sky shines
With a garbage can
Spreading foul smell from beneath
The foul smell
Coils up to the sky,
In a twisted shape.