The lament of Raavi

Human History is a complex and intricate mural of many colors and images. These images are tinted with both; the blue of hope and the red of blood, these images are the story of the human mind and the silent spectator called nature. Here is the story of ‘Raavi’, one of the five rivers of Punjab, as she sings her heart out with pain and sorrow, at the 1947 partition of India, one of the biggest migrations in history. Nearly 2 million people lost their lives in this bloodbath and 17 million people fled from their homes in their bid to survive the flames of this human inferno.

The crystal color of my being,

stands still in the streams of time.

I see through the aging shadows,

I see memories in their prime.

Raavi ve,  O Raavi,

See the lines drawn in sand,

Don’t laugh or cry, Sweet mother,

It’s the fate of the human hand.

I rush through the pebbled pathways,

to reach my beloved fields of Punjab.

But Oh ! this heat of searing blood,

strains of agony play the Rubab.

Raavi ve, O Raavi,

See the lines drawn in sand,

Don’t laugh or cry, Sweet mother,

It’s the fate  of the human hand.

I am undeterred by your fences,

I am free to choose my course.

Why, O Son, you forget then,

I am an element of your life force.

Raavi ve, O Raavi,

See the lines drawn in sand,

Don’t laugh or cry, Sweet mother,

It’s the fate of the human hand.

I have kissed the mists of the past;

I have held history in my arms,

I have known the cries of your hatred,

I have seen death in your farms.

Raavi ve, O Raavi,

See the lines drawn in sand,

Don’t laugh or cry, Sweet mother,

It’s the fate of the human hand.

I have little to say to you,

You are an ancient river man,

But save your boat from burning,

Steer it far away, if you can.

Raavi ve, O Raavi,

See the lines drawn in sand,

Don’t laugh or cry, Sweet mother,

It’s the fate of the human hand.

I cry alone and for no one,

I regret, I atone, I repent.

I couldn’t save my dear home;

So Five lone rivers lament…….

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