The Springs. Poem by Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

Where the springs of this precious land
That once gave us the clear water to drink
Where the springs of this wonderful land
That loved every one in bathing ghats
Of children, women, the old men
Once loved for a dip in cool flowing water
The old heritage property nature gave
All lost in years, through the ways
The man made tragedy follows as curse
Only time can tell the future of water sources
Which will be the nightmare of every one.