Looking out onto the Ganges I see nothing but clumps of water hyacinths and branches floating in its waters.The river seems free of the copious mounds of rubbish on the land. Perhaps it swallows it up.

The water hyacinths seem attractive with pretty purple flowers but there is a sinister side to them. They are dark and dangerous. So much so that they are referred to as the Terror of Bengal.

Brought over by Warren Hastings, the first Governor of Bengal, as an ornamental plant for his wife it has spread wildly. Its origins are in South America.

Why does it have such a terrible reputation? It spreads rapidly, chocking waterways, depriving fish of oxygen and adversely affecting fishing and rice production in Bengal.

The Indians though always have answers so while this is still a pest and a problem they have devised various ways to deal with it. They dry the roots and turn them into compost, animal feed, briquettes, crafts, mats, paper and even saris. There is a law banning its cultivation.

If ever there was an innovative nation it’s this one.

As we get closer to Kolkata the atmosphere is thicker and hazier with brick industries visible on the banks.

The jute is now replaced by banana plantations.

The air is thick and soupy. The heat is oppressive and sapping. Walking around takes energy and we come back to the boat drenched in sweat and exhausted. It’s three showers a day here but with river water which rejuvenates, makes my skin smooth and silky and offers instant refreshment.

We sit at dinner tonight and the thunder claps begin. The rain falls in a huge downpour. One couple come to say it’s seeping into their rooms. I can understand what a welcome relief is to all Indians.

A blessing and the river rises again.