City river in monsoon.

[Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi]

The galloping muddy water is flowing with the pace of a furious mountain stream. Trees are lying marooned in the water. White birds with long yellow beaks are perched atop the leafy crowns of these half-sunk trees.

Such is the September scene about the Yamuna between Akshardham Temple and Nizamuddin Bridge. Outside the monsoon months, the same river seems slow, narrow and sluggish, giving no sense of its sprawl within the megapolis. The river in fact travels 22km within Delhi, flowing under more than 15 road bridges, travelling 48km in the entire capital region, and, in return, becoming extremely polluted by the thankless city.

These days, following heavy showers, the Yamuna has breached its boundaries, forcing many citizens living close to the river to evacuate their homes. Dozens of tents have been put up for the evictees in many places, as well as here on the roadside between the Akshardham Temple and Nizamuddin Bridge. This morning, women are washing household clothes on the roadside, next to passing cars and auto-rickshaws. Lots of saris and shirts are already spread out on the fence to dry. A handful of cows and buffaloes are tethered to the fence as well. While scores of men are still asleep on string cots. One elderly man is awake, reading a tattered newspaper. A severely emancipated dog is sitting beside him.

Most of these citizens either manage small nurseries on the land along the Yamuna, or grow vegetables and fruits. They live right beside the river; their houses made of tin sheets, wooden planks and tirpal. Their children attend the schools in nearby Pandav Nagar.

A long time ago, Yamuna commandeered a greater intimacy with the rest of Delhi. Take Red Fort. It was built along the river (the Yamuna later drifted from its course). Or take Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya, who gives his name to the aforementioned bridge. The 14th century sufi saint lived beside the river. Once he is said to have spotted a woman drawing water from a well. He asked her why she was not using the water of the Yamuna, which was flowing just steps away. The woman complained of the Yamuna water being so tasty that it induced hunger, and she being poor had nothing with her to eat.

Who could say this about the river today?

Meanwhile, far away from the road bridge, two metro trains are crossing each other on parallel tracks, right above an energised Yamuna, see photo.