What the River Knows

I was born from the sweat of the Hindu Lord Shiva while he was dancing. Or perhaps he was meditating so hard sweat flowed down his body to become my body. Or another legend says that I was formed from the tears of Lord Brahma. From whomever I was birthed, I am sacred. I am like a mother and am called Narmadā Mai which means “the giver of joy.”

Festivals, such as the Narmadā Jayanti, honour me with thousands of oil lamps floated at night on my surface. The mere sight of my water is said to absolve a person from all their sins, whereas to gain the same grace, one must physically bathe in the Ganges.

I begin at Amarkantak in the Maikala range of east-central India and flowing east to west through a rift valley formed 400 million years ago, I am 1,289 km in length. My route carries me across the three different Indian States of Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra, and Gujarat.

At my humble source, waters from numerous springs collect to form rivulets that flow into a pond surrounded by white temples.

My current produces oval, polished lingam shaped stones of cryptocrystalline quartz, called Banashivalingas, which are considered sacred, and are sought after for daily worship by Hindus. The unique markings on them are thought to be auspicious by those who worship Lord Shiva.

Every year hundreds of religious ascetic and pilgrims begin the arduous Narmadāparikramā, a circumambulation of my entire body. Dressed in white and carrying their earthly possessions, devotees perform the meritorious act of walking from the Arabian Sea at Bharuch, along one side of me, all the way to my source at Amarkantak in Madhya Pradesh, and then return to the sea along my opposite bank, keeping my waters to their right. It is a two-to-three-year journey of over 2600 km. At each small creek or tributary, the pilgrims scoop water into their cups, take a drink, and call out, “Bless Mother Narmadā!” Along the route, pilgrims are given water, food, and places to rest.

Both of my banks are lined with holy cities, temples, and bathing Ghats (steps leading down to the water for easy access).

Sugarcane, cotton, maize, lentils, millet, vegetables, and bananas grow beside me. In the few remaining forests of teak, mahua, and other trees along my shores, there are still tigers, leopards, bears, wolves, flying squirrels, hyenas, deer, monitor lizards, eagles, and hornbills.

Bathers must be careful of what is lurking in my water, because crocodiles have attacked and killed people. ‘Muggers’ (crocodylus palustris) have survived in my body for over two million years, and saltwater crocodiles (crocodylus porosus) live in my estuary near Baruch. They feed on animal and fish carcasses thereby helping to keep me clean. The crocodile’s future is threatened by pollution, poachers, and the construction of dams, which hamper their movement and flood the shallow pools where they nest.

They feed on animal and fish carcasses thereby helping to keep me clean. The crocodile’s future is threatened by pollution, poachers, and the construction of dams, which hamper their movement and flood the shallow pools where they nest.

I am sometimes portrayed as a lady dressed in a red sari, riding the back of a crocodile through turbulent waters. In these images, which are often carried by the pilgrims, I spread my arms wide to deliver blessings.

Like the crocodile, the age-old pilgrimage along my banks has been threatened since the 1980’s by construction of a series of dams, both small and large. Extensive stretches of the path are currently submerged in the reservoirs of the Narmadā Valley Development Project.

The most colossal of these structures, the Sardar Sarovar Dam is one of the largest in the world. Its reservoir has displaced over a million adivasi or indigenous communities. The construction has also affected the natural flow of my sacred waters, so that I can no longer perform one of my primary jobs of transporting sediments and nutrients to downstream farmlands and fisheries.

How is it that I am worshipped, and simultaneously desecrated and degraded? How is it that I am sacred and profane at the same time?

Redesigning a River

Where the River Ends