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This is the river which bathed my childhood. It flows down my village and my house is just a few metres above its lush green basin, my ancestral home where I grew up as well as my present residence. Back then, in summer season, this river would shrink into a rivulet throwing up golden sandy banks on both sides with interspersed granite rocks. In monsoon, it would become a monstrous swirl of riled water carrying all sorts of things from coconuts to tree trunks. Its width then would expand in...
