Silt

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So much the eyes couldn't see
So much that mind ignored
Little things that mattered most
Things supposed to be lost

Memories lay deep beneath
Memoirs were not the same
The ghat was not the ghat anymore
Peace wasn't in his name

Everything good about it
Everything it defined
Covered with the silt now
Nowhere seen, nor to find.

Ghat-bank of river where hindus do their rituals.

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