The Sacred and the Sullied: Gomti's Grim Reality as Chhath Puja Looms

As the auspicious Chhath Puja draws near, a profound sense of anticipation, indeed, a spiritual quietude, usually settles over cities like Lucknow. Devotees prepare their offerings, their hearts full of reverence for the Sun God, a tradition steeped in purification and devotion. Yet, for those looking to the sacred waters of the Gomti River this year, a rather disheartening, if not downright appalling, sight greets them. Because, in truth, the river, meant for holy dips and solemn rituals, remains stubbornly — distressingly so — choked with garbage.

One might recall, perhaps, the pronouncements from the Lucknow Municipal Corporation (LMC) just recently, assuring everyone of robust cleanup drives. They promised, we heard, a pristine environment, a Gomti fit for worship. But for anyone standing at spots like Kudia Ghat or near the Daliganj Bridge, a starkly different narrative unfolds. You see, despite the official declarations, the ground reality — or rather, the water reality — is a persistent, unsightly tapestry of waste.

And what precisely is floating there, you might ask? Well, it’s not just a stray leaf or two. We're talking about substantial heaps of domestic garbage, the kind that certainly doesn't belong in any river, let alone one designated for spiritual ceremonies. There's an abundance of plastic — bottles, bags, wrappers — alongside puja waste: withered flowers, remnants of idols, all mingling in a murky, uninviting stew. It truly is a visual testament to a cleanup effort that, one could argue, hasn't quite hit its mark.

The emotional toll on devotees, honestly, feels palpable. Imagine preparing for a deeply personal, sacred ritual, only to be met with such a spectacle of civic neglect. "How can we take a holy dip in such filthy water?" one can almost hear them lamenting, their voices echoing the frustration of many. Beyond the spiritual affront, there’s the very real concern for public health, of course. A river teeming with refuse is hardly a sanctuary; it’s a potential breeding ground for ailments.

And yet, officials, bless their hearts, continue to insist on their efforts. We hear talk of teams deployed, of machinery diligently working. But the proof, as they say, is in the pudding – or, in this case, in the persistent layers of plastic and debris that stubbornly cling to the Gomti’s surface. It’s a baffling disconnect, really, between stated intent and visible outcome. One has to wonder, truly, what measures are being taken, and perhaps more importantly, how effectively are they being monitored?

The Gomti, like so many rivers, is more than just a waterway; it’s a lifeline, a cultural touchstone, a repository of faith. To see it treated with such consistent disregard, especially before a festival as significant as Chhath Puja, is a powerful, if grim, reflection on our collective stewardship. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time for more than just fleeting cleanup drives; perhaps it's time for a fundamental shift in how we approach our urban waterways, ensuring they remain clean, truly clean, for both tradition and future.