A dystopian travelogue across the Ravi

A dystopian narrative reimagines the fate of River Ravi in the 22nd century, lost to human neglect

The interplay between speculative literature and social dilemmas has the potential to transcend the physical attributes of a particular space or region that are visible to the public eye. A dystopian narrative that channels the meticulous craft of the 'travelogue' can familiarize individuals with the social and emotional landscape every space carries, giving birth to an emotional connection between the space and the traveler.

Spaces can be reimagined and redefined across the boundaries of space and time – and every era brings forth its own set of trials.

Set in the twenty-second century, this futuristic exploration of the River Ravi connects the present-day harsh dilemma of climate change with the unfortunate fate we can anticipate for this space. In this post-apocalyptic setting, the morbid journey through the River Ravi explores the lost remnants of human civilization, remembered as the most polluted river in the world.

The Plea of Dying Ravi

Flowing through the borders of Northwestern India and Eastern Pakistan, the waters of River Ravi once swiftly moved past the districts of Punjab surrounding the cities of Lahore and Komalia along with Ahmadpur Sial. Following the trail of Punjab, the river merged with the Chenab River.

Across the century of the 2200s, the River Ravi has now lost all its glory.

As soon as I tread closer to the river, the depths of the grave dilemma of Ravi ascend with its barren landscape, where no ounce of water can possibly trace its way to the river stream. Upon catching the very first glimpse, the abandoned riverbed draws striking parallels between its wretched landscape alongside the high-spirited life it once shared.

Moving closer to the edge of the river, one is irresistibly drawn to the vibrant images of Ravi, fondly remembered as the rich agricultural heartland of Pakistan with its fertile plains, alluvial soil and natural irrigation systems. As one of the widely celebrated and culturally rich rivers of Punjab, the streams of River Ravi once helped the historic civilisations of the Indus Valley flourish across the timeline of 3300 BCE.

The waters of the river stood sufficient to provide sustenance to the life of countless settlements, one being the Harappan civilisation, along with paving a significant trade link between nearby regions.

Earlier, the sacred Ravi stood as a living testament to the amalgamation of distinct cultures and religious rituals, treasured as a symbol of spiritual purification and redemption within the religious traditions of Hinduism and Sikhism. In keeping with tradition, the lost waters of Ravi were revered as a symbol of divinity, generously showered upon pilgrims to cleanse themselves of worldly sins.

Gazing at the banks of Punjab today, the traveller’s eye can only grasp a gothic scene of a forgotten wasteland in complete ruins. The sight of the living civilisation is now deserted, its remnants overrun with dried-up streams, decayed trees and withered soil; the whispers of the river banks reverberate hollow echoes of the close-knit communities.

The grotesque image of the Ravi amplifies sentiments of loss and nostalgia as the Indus River has crumbled into a silent graveyard, scorched by the unforgivable wrath of climate change, pollution and neglect of its very own people. With every passing year, the turbulent waves called out for salvation through its cracked landscape until it was devoid of every inch of its waters—but everyone turned a blind eye; these rivers were slowly erased from the memory of its close-by cities which once thrived under its gentle shade.

A desolate atmosphere pervades the terrain as insufferable gloom surfaces over the sights of Ravi; no signs of human life and wildlife meet the visitor’s eye. In the stillness, one stares aimlessly at the withered houses and weathered boats covered in layers of thick dust along with faded structures eroded by the constant floods surrounding the sides of the river.

With the steady rise of environmental collapse and degradation alongside pollutants vigorously thrown in the waters by adjacent cities, the continuous flow of water perpetually subsided within the river. Pondering over the crisis of climate change, the bleak emptiness of the place accentuates with every passing minute as the traveller powerlessly captures the miserable views of the river site.

With a history of utmost negligence spanning years, the underground water near Ravi had been severely contaminated by harmful toxicants spilled into the waters, trickling into batches of crops and vegetation, supplied to nearby cities like Lahore. In turn, the irrigation system of Ravi ultimately declined with the disappearance of its waters.

With the loopholes of metropolitan life, environmental degradation and mass urban pollution landing in the gushes of water, the gradual disappearance of River Ravi can be sighted from the fertile plains of Punjab today.

Perhaps, the cherished waters of the River Ravi now merely prevail as a dying metaphor for the dystopian world where no life remains, but a melting pot of long-lost memories which can barely sustain the dying tradition of life, heritage and civilisations.

As the clock strikes the sixth hour in the evening, the sun begins to set behind the lost river, in front of my eyes.

Resting on the side bank, the eyes settle upon the spectacle of the sunset as mellow sun rays mixed with orange-red hues reflect in the damp patches of water along the riverbed, drenched in heaps of solid waste including plastics, disposal of sewage, industrial discharge and perilous toxins.

As the sun continues to descend behind Ravi, the wretched fate of the Indus River solidifies in the folds of its riverbed which have drastically seeped into human pollution and unregulated waste, carelessly dumped into the streams by the people of the bordering cities.

The River Ravi helplessly meets its demise at the hands of human ingratitude and unparalleled ignorance for mother nature that constantly voiced its plea for the revival of its dying existence; its roots are embedded in the failure and remorse of its beloved people.

The waters of one of the five rivers have now parted their ways from the lands of Punjab, only to be recalled in history as the most heavily polluted river in the world.

As a traveller in Punjab, the unsettling sight of the dying Ravi has become a grieving memory for me—a tradition that only resides in the heart of travellers as a fragile memory of the past.