Letter from Lahore: River recalls days of glory

For centuries, Lahore has been associated with the River Ravi, which runs along its southern boundary.

Once serving as an important defence barrier, protecting the city from invaders, in more recent decades the river has been a favourite picnic spot for families and young lovers, an arena for boating activity and, further upstream, a source of a rich haul of fish, that, when fried, is still regarded as one of the major delicacies in the city that loves its food.

Times though have changed. Through much of this winter, the Ravi has remained dry, devoid of anything but a small trickle of water, and a few stagnant ponds in which water buffalo wallow.

Only once a year, during the monsoon season, does the river flow in its full glory, as water is released into it upstream by India.

Deserted

Under an accord reached in the times of the late military dictator, Field Marshall Ayub Khan, India controls water flow in the river. As such, increased demand and declining rainfall have meant that today, the Ravi stands almost deserted.

The picnickers have long flocked away, and even Kamran's Baradari, the Mughal structure built by one of Emperor Humayun's brothers, known for his love of Lahore, stands isolated, the water that once surrounded it having dried up.

Today, the river in fact serves essentially as a drain, with much of the waste produced by the city emptying into it. As a result of the gallons of effluents, chemicals and solid waste poured in, the waters are in fact highly toxic.

Fishing communities have been devastated by the rapid loss of aquatic life in the river, and many fear even the fish that survive, notably the large, grey Rou, the city's favourite fish, may be contaminated by the poisons which swirl through the waters.

At times, it seems the black kites, and the smaller number of eagles, are the only form of life near the river.

The kites come because of the chunks of meat thrown into the river each day, with meat sellers setting up stalls near the two bridges over the river, where people purchase chunks of flesh and hurl it into the river for the birds.

Legend has it that anyone feeding the kites at the Ravi will be financially rewarded. And the number of people who buy or bring morsels to throw in shows that the myth lives on, even if the river has died.

There are other legends too about the Ravi. One is that if you throw money into the river, you will get ten thousand times the amount in return. Much as at the Trevi Fountain in Rome, people walking along the banks toss coins into what water remains. Later in the evening, the sons of boatmen, who now get few customers, jump into the shallow pools of water to recover the coins.

Even during the monsoon, when the most coins are thrown, the boys dive deep down to retrieve them. And, in this season too, lovers come to bathe in the waters, following a belief that allowing the rivers water to wash over them will unite them in the future.

But, apart from the legends, much else of the Ravi has died. Only old photographs and paintings provide an indication of its past glory, and the central role the river once played in the life of people in the city.

Kamila Hyat is former editor of The News, Lahore.