A Gutter’s Wishful Thinking

Is this my guttural instinct or sudden desire,

To be like a river? I really don’t know!

Generally, I feel satisfied with my humble

Existence; I am happy when the storm water

Flows down the slope with a gurgling sound;

I sadly miss the scenario in the summers,

When the water flows in an emasculated stream;

I am used to vagaries of nature,

Causing changes to my persona, unbelievably;

However, I feel disturbed when people throw

All kind of garbage into my limpid bosom;

I am heartlessly turned into a veritable sink!

The clearance of that rubbish takes months

To happen; I am pained by the extreme

Callousness of humans who don’t bother,

About my desperation, and unbearable suffering;

The passers by are largely perturbed by my stinking presence,

and the animals avoid me to quench their thirst;

In those moments of agony and exasperation,

Many times I wish to transform into a river,

Full of flowing water running flawlessly;

Its momentum pushes forth the dirty and soiled objects,

Thrown by humans at different places;

The river looks clean from above

During all seasons;

I often think about the ways to change my

Destiny forever; knowing fully well

That the water flowing through me covers a long

Distance, and finally merges into the river;

I still cherish the desire to emerge as a

River-an unmistakable symbol of flowing

Life current; I want to be the river of life

For the teeming millions.

That is how I masquerade like a river

In my daydreams!