A JOURNEY TO BEHOLD

As we traversed along the sprawling cremation ground by the river, we encountered those tethered to its polluted depths. It is sustenance, with a toll on health, dignity

- Ifrah Mufti

THE boat rocked gently as we stepped in the handpainted blue has chipped away at places to reveal worn out wood, as the vessel stood tethered at Nigambodh Ghat on the sulonted try afternoon. The cemented steps lay in ruin thick moss obscuring its edges and vegetation emerging from its cracks before disappearing into the murky waters.

The river gurgled beneath - a dark, thick muck of industrial and human discharges, rotting garlands and religious offerings, broken idols and plastic waste, shrouding any semblance of water. It clung to the oar with every heave, black and stinking.

Past the screeching lanes of Kashmere Gate ISBT, where buses honk and snarl, a narrow lane opposite the Marghat Wale Hanuman Baba temple veers off towards the Nigambodh Ghat an ancient cremation ground at the heart of the Old City. Here, the Yamuna looks forsaken; the river here doesn't flow, it festers.

We spent over two hours on the boat as it navigated the Yamuna waterways, taking us along the sprawling cremation grounds, stretching from Vasudev Ghat upstream to somewhere beyond the Yamuna rail bridge, where the lines between 'authorised' and 'unauthorised' become blurry.