My Ganga, His Pool Poem by Ruma Chaudhuri

I was going lonely in the train,
going alone, without a friend

I was in me, in my thoughts
through the windows
I saw the spots.

Suddenly, I heard a voice,
Quarrel of two little boys.

Not harsh, but a sweet noise.

“It's mine, my Ganga.”
“No, never, said my Grandpa.”

They quarreled for a river,
I was surprised but thought of it never.
..........
My high expectation, and my hopes are so high
But in the vast universe,
where is 'I'?

“This earth is His, to Him belong
those vast and boundless skies;
Both seas within Him rest, and yet
in that small pool He lies.”*



*ATHARVA VEDA
Book 4, Hymn 16