Note: This poem was penned by the poet on the 26 th Day of August 2024- Janmashtami-the birth anniversary of Lord Krishna. The higher-than-normal incessant rainfall the entire day took her thoughts to her brethren in North Sikkim, who have been at the receiving end of the drastic climatic changes since the Glacial Lhonark Lake Outburst Flood last year in October 2023 that affected the entire Teesta River belt from Sikkim to West Bengal. The Rong/Lepcha and The Chong/Limbu are animistic shamanistic autochthonous tribes of Sikkim who have been worshipping the River Teesta from times immemorial.

There! You go again,
Blame me all you can,
Your hand on your rhythmic heart,
Feel! Feel! The rise and every fall,
Think! Think! Close your eyes and recall,
Does the fault lie in mine or yours?

Eons and eons ago,
The length of time, impossible to measure,
My grandparents, Zemu and Kangtse Glaciers,
Gave birth to my mother Lake Tso Lhamo,
My father, Kangchenjunga -your Mighty Guardian Deity,
Send me down to live amongst you humankind.

I breastfed your forefathers,
With my sweat, I nurtured them,
My blood mixed with theirs, harmonized,
The simple folks of the ravine,
The Rong of Ren-yong and the Chong of Chong-jung,
Hand in hand as brothers, they lived side by side.

Sacred and pure, your ancestors worshipped me,
I was the source of their every joy,
Solace to their every sorrow,
Generations after generations,
I know not how many, I never kept count,
Safe and sound in my bosom, all the year round.

Today you drain me, you defile me,
You bind me and restrict my movements,
My arteries and veins are clogged to its pores,
My heart and lungs blocked to its very core,
It is difficult for me to breathe with ease,
Yet, your thirst and hunger are far from appeased.

I take this ferocious avatar, no option you left,
You had me compelled and cornered,
I feel blinded for I cannot find my natural courses,
The clouds high above weep with me at my plight,
I am not out to destroy you, I too need to exist,
In your tongue termed “the survival of the fittest”.

O! Ye! Progeny of the Primitive Rong and the Chong,
The Lepcha and the Limbu of Sikkim today you are called,
Where and when did you go wrong?
Can’t you see? I am not to be blamed,
You are as dear to me as your forefathers,
Fear me or worship me, the choice is yours.

Converse with your inner self, open your eyes,
Know that I cannot be constrained or restrained,
Do not underestimate the Nature and its old ways,
For I still have some dormant energy and fight left within.
By the power of Mount Kangchenjunga and the Holy Lake,
I am their daughter, yours truly The Mighty River Teesta.

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