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City Nature – Hindon River, Ghaziabad

City Nature - Hindon River, Ghaziabad

The other river.

[Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi]

On googling for it, the first search result is of a military base, along with news links to events in Bangladesh—Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina fleeing the country, her flight landing at the aforementioned base.

Hindon Air Force Station is next door to Delhi, in zila Ghaziabad, and takes its name from the region’s lesser-known river. This is because the Hindon is overshadowed by the Yamuna. To many Delhiwale, even the great Yamuna is experienced merely as a bottleneck to be endured during the long commutes. (For a long time, the poetic term ‘Yamuna-paar’ was abused by ignorant snobs to refer to what they imagine was the less posh side of the city, across the river.)

The Yamuna in Delhi is nevertheless a character. The Hindon is barely registered. Its past though is traced to the ancient days of the Mahabharat, as well as to the nation’s contemporary history—clashes against the British unfolded in many locales along the riverside during the 1857 war of independence.

Originating from UP’s Saharanpur, the Hindon flows between the Ganga and the Yamuna, enters the capital region through Ghaziabad, goes onwards to Noida, where, after traversing 400 kilometres from its source, the river meets its sangam in the Yamuna.

In Ghaziabad, the Hindon passes under a red-brick edifice, which is among the most beautiful railway bridges in the megapolis. The six arches evoke the world of Roman aqueducts. A board by the rail tracks displays the bridge’s length (488 meter), but is silent on the year of its built.

During the peak winter, the misty kohra wafts under these red arches, looking like swollen white clouds. This monsoon afternoon, parts of the arches are bearing stubbles of wild bushes, along with clumps of moss. The brownish water underneath is shimmering under the pale daylight, weedy with green “jungli ghaas that gives purple flowers,” says the beedi-smoking Ravi. The young man spends all his days catching fish in the Hindon, some of which “I cook and eat.”

Soon, a goods train enters the bridge, its coal-filled blue wagons clanking heavily over the arches. Ravi continues to gaze at the slow-moving Hindon. See photo.

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