The Indus neither forgives, nor forgets

Mikhail Sholokhov, the great Russian writer of Quiet Flows the Don, perhaps never knew that there are rivers that do not flow quietly, whose roars are heard in the skies.

- MASOOD LOHAR

Mikhail Sholokhov, the great Russian writer of Quiet Flows the Don, perhaps never knew that there are rivers that do not flow quietly, whose roars are heard in the skies. The Rig Veda glorifies the Indus as: "Sindhu in might surpasses all the streams that flow. His roar is lifted up to heaven above the earth, He with his wealth makes fertile both the worlds, Even as a warrior, conquering in the field of battle."

The Indus, known as Sindhu in Sanskrit, Sengge Chu (Lion River) in Tibetan, Abaseen (The Father of Rivers) in Pashto, and Shendu in Chinese, has been more than just a river—it is the very lifeblood of civilisation. It has nurtured great empires, inspired poets, and sustained the cultures that flourished along its banks. From the Harappan cities of Mohenjodaro and Harappa to the thriving ports of medieval Sindh, the Indus has witnessed the rise and fall of human endeavours. Ironically, Pakistan—a country whose very name is synonymous with the Indus Valley—is now engaged in a precarious tampering with the river. It is as if the nation has forgotten that this river is not merely a body of water but a sacred entity, revered since time immemorial. In the Rig Veda, the river is praised for its boundless flow and divine blessings: "Thou, Sindhu, like a warrior bold, dost dash against the hills. Roaring, thou rushest like a bull with swift and mighty waves."