Ganga Mata
The monsoon rain had caused the river to rise even higher and from her window she could see the children playing in the brown water. She had been feeling so ill and even half feared she might die here in Varanasi. Death was everywhere and the line between life and death so fragile. But watching the children playing so happily in the dirty sacred water she felt the strength, resilience and joy of life that flowed alongside death.
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