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By:

Rajeev Kejriwal

26 April 2026 at 1:28:42 pm

The forgotten music of water

Every civilization has a sound. We hear it every day. Perhaps that is why we have forgotten to listen. Some announce themselves with the clang of industry, the whistle of trains, the restless murmur of cities that never seem to sleep. Some are remembered through the songs they sang or the monuments they left behind. Yet beneath every anthem composed by human hands flows an older music that is quieter, gentler, eternal. It is the music of water. It begins as rain, knocking softly upon...

The forgotten music of water

Every civilization has a sound. We hear it every day. Perhaps that is why we have forgotten to listen. Some announce themselves with the clang of industry, the whistle of trains, the restless murmur of cities that never seem to sleep. Some are remembered through the songs they sang or the monuments they left behind. Yet beneath every anthem composed by human hands flows an older music that is quieter, gentler, eternal. It is the music of water. It begins as rain, knocking softly upon waiting roofs, each drop carrying the scent of a thirsty earth and the promise of another season. It laughs through mountain streams with the impatience of childhood, gathers dignity as rivers widen, and then slips beneath the soil like an old sage choosing silence over speech. Before a single drop reaches the tap in our homes, it has wandered through wandering clouds, embraced forests, carved valleys, filled lakes, rested in reservoirs, surrendered itself to treatment plants, and travelled patiently through miles of unseen pipelines. By the time it reaches our hands, it has already lived an entire lifetime. The tap is not its beginning. It is merely the last note of a song that began in the sky. But every melody carries the shadow of a discord. A leaking tap keeps singing like, drop... drop... drop... not as water escaping, but as time dissolving. An overflowing tank hums no hymn of abundance; it whispers of abundance mistaken for entitlement. Beneath the asphalt, forgotten pipelines breathe their tired breath until, one day, they simply give way. And then arrives the most haunting music of all, the music that contains no sound. The silence of a dry hand pump. Its handle rises. Its handle fails , and again, and again, and again. Few silences weigh as heavily as that one. It is the silence of rivers shrinking into memories, of aquifers emptied one unnoticed season at a time, of monsoons growing uncertain, of promises postponed until tomorrow becomes too late. Sometimes the loudest warning a civilization receives is not a crashing flood, nor a roaring storm, but the unbearable absence of a single drop. We must not merely use water. We need to listen to it as well. Somewhere, amid the speed of progress and the comfort of convenience, we stopped listening. We began hearing only the click of a tap, forgetting the symphony that preceded it. Today, as rivers rewrite their courses, glaciers retreat, cities stretch beyond their thirst, and every summer grows a little longer than the last, listening is no longer an act of poetry. It is an act of survival. The future will not belong to those who extract the most water. It will belong to those who understand its rhythm, honour its journey, and protect its music. Perhaps, years from now, history will ask us only this ” What did water sound like in your time? The answer will never live entirely in reports, budgets or speeches. It will live in the music we chose to preserve. Like rivers still singing beneath ancient bridges...,like monsoon rain welcomed with open palms...,like every child turning a tap with quiet certainty Or like relentless leaks...forgotten lakes... or wells that answered every prayer with silence. For when the song of water begins to fade, it is never water alone that disappears. A river loses its voice and a civilization, almost without noticing, begins to lose the rhythm of its own heartbeat. (The writer is a bilingual author with five published titles to his credit. Views personal.)

Bad Roads, Ugly Politics


The pathetic state of roads in Mumbai city as well as its suburbs has made daily commute a dangerous affair. The residents are miffed with the BMC over its lackadaisical attitude. Mumbaikars tweet photos, post videos to grab attention, but everything is in vain. Who cares for the common people. Backbreaking journeys have become part and parcel of life. Political leaders are busy mud-slinging.


This year the monsoon took a break after almost four and half months. During this time some of the roads virtually became non commutable. It may be recalled that the Chief Minister Eknath Shinde first announced to make Mumbai roads pothole free.


Its almost two years now the BMC has concretised only 9 percent of roads it planned to concretise. This decision was taken when it came to light that due to the properties of bitumen in asphalt roads, potholes are a regular occurrence due to contact with water during monsoons.


Hence, to solve the problem of potholes, the corporation has adopted a policy of cement concreting of 6-meter-wide roads in phases. The decision was taken but the dilly-dallying affair made things more difficult.


Mumbai’s traffic does put a lot of strain on roads which is not the case in the other developed countries. Second most important aspect is concretisation of roads is done partly and in phases.


The worst problem which is faced is repeated digging for cables and drainage, which weakens the roads. Above all corruption in BMC makes matters worse as a result everything comes to grinding halt.


According to experts, repairing potholes is a reaction with symptomatic treatment. By and large we are dispensing superficial treatment without addressing the root cause. The long-term solution will be to have roads with no potholes but what we need is the means and technology to achieve this. But for this political will is necessary which we lack on every step.


Mumbaikar’s are convience that corruption in the municipal corporation is the main reason. Contractors have had a monopoly over the last 20 years and this is the reason why reputed companies never come ahead for these projects.


As a result, in the name of attendance and repair, the BMC does shoddy work. Crores are spent but the end result is nothing. The BMC is not paying attention to the crust. If the crust is weak, potholes will see an increase. Without any thought or technical know-how, potholes are filled with cold mix.


This is the reason why the city and suburbs continue to have craters on the roads.


Craters, a serious threat to the safety and security of people. Mumbaikars fade up from their repeated visits to orthopedic surgeons.


They are in a mood to teach a proper lesson to those who were at the helm of the affairs.

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