The Yamuna, that nullah that i last remember it as, is back to being a river now. It's as odd as the resurgence of hair on a bald person. The pontoon bridges lie reduntant. Any businesses near its banks - like the juice vendors and farmers - have displaced. The banks lie desolate, but beautiful. Now that the water levels have risen and the banks are closer, I walk upto the edge, right where the land ends. I assume that the edge won't erode and continue to act sophisticated. An odd fisherman or two are the only population around, if you ignore counting in the migratory cranes that decided to break their journey for a couple of days. The water is muddy brown - which is a welcome change from the earlier shade of evil black. Countless eddies churn the waters, but to no effect. For the first time it seems that the river has the potential to support life. And I also come across things that suggests the river's affiliations to the end of life. There are tiny earthen pots lying around, which MUST be containing ashes of the dead. It is confirmed when I spot hollowed, brittle bones around one of the pots that lies smashed. The rest must have been washed away in the agressive currents The water levels are conspicuously higher.
She flows with great intensity, thanks to the torrential showers. The monsoons haven't arrived yet, I'm told. If that is so, then I can foresee the great Delhi floods of '08.
Once the rain clouds go away, Yamuna would be back to 'black greasy smelly chemicals' mode it was earlier in. I shouldn't mind - the pontoon bridge would be up again, and the sugarcane juice vendors would come back to its banks and ring cute little bells to attract their customer for another glass of refreshing juice. Blue bulls - currently living deep in the forests nearby - would move outwards, where I can see them grazing once again. But the greatest delight once it's back to being so is that I get to reminisce; reminisce over each and every artefact that ties to my memories.
The scenes today would make for reminiscence the next year. Fruition period.
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