The village of Neelpur was slowly dying of thirst. Not a sudden death, but a long, unrelenting fading. The mighty River Varuna, which had given life to the village for centuries, was now barely a silver thread in a wide, cracked riverbed.
Every morning, Mira, a young woman known for her quiet focus, stood at the riverbank. Her grandfather, an old farmer, would watch her with a deep sadness in his eyes.
“It is useless, child,” he would say. “The river has forgotten us. The rains are sparse. Therefore, we must move.”
However, Mira disagreed. She knew the river had not forgotten; the people had simply forgotten the river’s nature.
The Legacy of the Elders
Seventy years ago, the Varuna had been generous. It ran strong and wide. At that time, the old-timers, like her grandfather’s father, had taken its water for granted. Consequently, they had cut down the deep-rooted trees along the banks to make more room for their fields.
The old people of Neelpur believed they were being clever. They traded the shade and the stability of the trees for extra land, certain the river would always be full.
In truth, the roots of those ancient trees had been the memory of the river. In fact, their vast network under the soil was what slowed the rainwater, held the banks firm, and kept the groundwater high during the dry months.
Today, without those roots, the riverbanks crumbled. When the short monsoon came, the water ran off immediately, carrying precious topsoil. Ultimately, the river could not hold onto its own water.
Mira knew her generation was paying the price for that short-sighted decision. The real conflict, she realized, was not with nature, but with the legacy of greed and impatience left by the past.
Mira’s Simple Promise
One afternoon, Mira walked far upstream. She found a stretch of the bank where a single, massive banyan tree had been spared by the loggers. Its roots ran deep, holding a small patch of soil firm. Even here, the earth felt softer, more alive.
She sat down and felt a sudden, powerful resolve. “If the river cannot remember, I will help it remember,” she whispered.
Mira’s plan was not to dig a new well or build a huge dam. Instead, her plan was simple: to plant trees.
Her neighbors laughed. “Trees? Do you think a sapling will bring the monsoon back, Mira? You are wasting water we need for our remaining crops!”
Her grandfather tried to stop her, fearing she would become the village joke. Nevertheless, Mira was unwavering.
She spent her meager savings on seedlings of strong, native trees—neem, peepal, and acacia. First, she used her small, daily water ration to nurture a tiny patch of ground.
She dug small trenches to capture any fleeting rain. Furthermore, she built low, earthen walls to prevent the precious soil from washing away. She worked alone, her hands raw and blistered, planting one small hope after another.
The River’s Memory Returns
The first year was difficult. Many seedlings withered in the intense heat. Consequently, people began to ignore her, seeing her work as a futile act of stubbornness.
However, Mira did not look at the dried-up saplings. Instead, she focused on the ones that held green. She learned which seeds survived and which spots needed more shade. She learned patience from the slowly moving sun.
In the second year, a small miracle occurred. The roots of her surviving trees, though still tiny, began to hold the soil. Moreover, the land she worked on was visibly firmer than the cracked earth around it.
When the monsoon came, it was still weak. Yet, the water that fell on Mira’s planted area did not rush away. It paused, soaked in, and was slowly released into the ground.
By the fifth year, a green belt ran along the riverbank for a quarter mile. The trees were still young, but they were strong enough to cast shade. The ground beneath them held enough moisture to sustain small grasses and insects.
The village well, which had been dry for years, began to seep water again. The seepage was slow at first, but then it grew steady.
People walked to Mira’s green bank just to feel the cool air. Finally, they stopped laughing. Instead, they started asking questions.
“Mira, how does this small forest bring the water back?” asked an elder.
“It is not magic,” Mira replied, standing beside a healthy young peepal. “It is memory. You see, the river remembers what the roots taught it to do. We simply gave the river back its memory.”
The people of Neelpur began to join her, carrying seedlings and spades. At last, they understood that the great effort of one person, sustained over time, could undo the error of the past. The river, once a thread, began to widen again, fed by the memory of the trees that held it fast.
Moral
Our decisions today determine the landscape and resources available to the people of tomorrow; therefore, we must focus on actions that build a strong, sustainable legacy.
Glossary
| Word | Simple Meaning |
| Unrelenting | Never stopping; continuous. |
| Sparse | Thinly spread or occurring rarely. |
| Riverbed | The channel in which a river flows. |
| Nature | The basic character or quality of something. |
| Legacy | What is left behind for future generations. |
| Short-sighted | Thinking only about the present, not the future. |
| Crumbled | Broke or fell apart into small pieces. |
| Resolve | A firm decision or determination. |
| Unwavering | Steady and firm; not changing. |
| Meager | Very small in amount. |
| Nurture | To care for and encourage the growth of. |
| Futile | Pointless; unable to produce a useful result. |
| Miracle | An extraordinary and welcome event that cannot be explained. |
| Seep | To flow or leak slowly through small holes. |
Vocabulary
| Word | Synonym(s) |
| Fading | Dimming, Declining, Vanishing |
| Ancient | Old, Timeless, Historic |
| Generous | Giving, Abundant, Plentiful |
| Stability | Firmness, Security, Balance |
| Precious | Valuable, Treasured, Cherished |
| Conflict | Struggle, Dispute, Problem |
| Massive | Huge, Enormous, Giant |
| Spared | Saved, Protected, Exempted |
| Secluded | Isolated, Hidden, Quiet |
| Stubbornness | Obstinacy, Persistence, Firmness |
| Sustained | Continued, Maintained, Supported |
| Moisture | Dampness, Wetness, Humidity |
| Steadily | Consistently, Smoothly, Firmly |
| Sustainable | Enduring, Viable, Long-lasting |
| Rewriting | Changing, Revising, Reforming |

