Abhay Kanvinde’s photo story of Tirthan, as the free-flowing river makes its way out of the Great Himalayan National Park, then flows close to villages, touching the people and finally when it gets dammed as it comes out of the valley that is its home.
Tirthan reminds us of Tagore’s Gitanjali, where he writes about a similar small bubbling river, the Kopai.
“I have for my neighbour the tiny river Kopai.
She lacks the distinction of ancient lineage. The primitive name of hers is mixed up with the loud-laughing prattle of the Santal women of countless ages.
There is no gap for discord between the land and water in her intimacy with the village and she easily carries the whisper of her one bank to the other. Where the road comes to an abrupt break at the brink of her water, she graciously makes way for the passers-by across her crystal-clear garrulous stream.
Her speech is the speech of the humble home, not the language of the learned. Her rhythm has a common kinship both with the land and the water; her vagrant stream is unjealous of the green and golden wealth of the earth.“
All photos: Abhay Kanvinde (firstname.lastname@example.org)