Every story has a beginning, middle, and an end, just like the river which has a story to tell, from its source to its final destination. The river I'm going to talk about, it's source I know not, but it joins the Damodar river with dams to irrigate the arid lands. Eleven years crossed the Barakar bridge, dividing two states Bihar and West Bengal. Now one can gasp and say 'O my..my...that's a long distance'...but truth be told merely 15 kms. Back then covered in half an hour! Distance from home in a Industrial town Kumardhubi to Loreto Convent school in Asansol. The Barakar river link in between. Admittedly it felt nice to say we attended school covering two states! The river had its many moods. In summer the water shrunk to a thin trickle that meandered between outcrops of sand banks covered with tall grass. Inhabitants living on the banks would cross the long expanse to procure water, wash utensils, squat with the 'lota' for obvious reasons. Uggg! So gross, drinking, defecating, from the same source. Come monsoons, she'd roar like thunder, breaching the banks, wiping off settlements across its path. That was the time, we peered out of the school bus window..Awed! #waterbody #yqbaba #yqquotes #mirakee #mirakeewriters #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #writersnetworks
