NVN Sunday: WHEN THE WATER COMES
by Rajat Chandra Sarmah
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This is not news to us. It rains. Then it rains more. The river climbs the banks like a thief at night. We don’t ask, Why is this happening? We ask, How high this time? We know the drill— Carry the old woman upstairs, tie the goats to the roof beam, Put the school books in plastic. My cousin’s house floated away last month. Just slid into the Brahmaputra, quiet as a boat pushing off. The calendar was still on the wall— June. Floods are disasters for us. But calendars for them. They know when to show up. Photo op. Speech. Same promises, reshuffled. Bangladesh, Bihar, Assam— The same story, different screens. Sometimes I sit by the window and wonder— Is the river tired of carrying us? Our plastics, our lost shoes, our drowned gods? The water comes again. It will come next year too. I don’t know anymore If I should swim Or just stand still.
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Rajat Chandra Sarmah is a poet and writer, and a Fellow of LEAD International. a global network focused on leadership and sustainability. After a 36-year career in India’s power sector, he now focuses on poetry and literary writing. His work explores environmental crises, cultural inheritance, and personal memory.
What a poem! Thank you. “The calendar was still on the wall … June” 💔 And this gutted me: “Sometimes I sit by the window
and wonder—
Is the river tired of carrying us?
Our plastics, our lost shoes,
our drowned gods?”
Beautiful. Love this poem!