Sindhu and I

Sindhu,
Saw her first at Karo, never knew her name,
Dressed in cerulean blue, the colour of Ladakhi torquoise.
In a time-warp saw her again, a babbling brook, approaching Leh
You’d never notice till the signboard pointed her out,
Winding through the meadows, almost insignificant.
Beyond Leh, she blossoms in to a blue stream, unmistakable
You begin to realize her greatness, more so in
her anglicized name Indus.
I followed her winding trail on the highway
Playing hide and seek. Her path carved through forbidding mountains
And a harsh lanscape. Alluring, bewitching and
almost caused me to skid and slide, as I looked down and sideways
trying to drink in her beauty.
She met her friend Zanskar, not that I approve
of his dirty, slum brown colour. They meet and move on
Now Indus, no longer the pristine blue
of the mountains, unlimited skies.
We part company at the borders of Kargil
That separate us from our belligerent neighbours
Whose land she chooses for her passage to the sea.
We have traveled more that a few hundred miles together,
Kilometers sound so less romantic,
Definitely more than the seven steps traveled together,
To qualify as friends.
So I can say, Sindhu and I are friends
Till she chose to become Indus and moved on.