At the window of his new house, in a crowded suburb of Pune sits Aba Gawas. He looks out at the traffic and talks of his river Dabhil, more than 400 kms away from him. For years, Aba has fought hard to protect the river. He calls it Dabhil Mauli, a term of endearment reserved for mothers and deities. He is not keeping very well and longs to return to Dabhil Mauli. I realize with a sudden pang, rivers are home.