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Dear Diary: Our Environment
Dear Diary,
The taps used to run while I brushed my teeth, hardly if ever I bothered to go for paper bags in place of plastic ones, barely thought to put dustbins around, mocked the idea of planting trees, scoffed cycling to college; never really gave it a thought. As a matter of fact, these actions were very much a part of my life. And they remained so as I took it all for granted, until the day I passed through the busiest road of the city finding myself unable to breathe.
Smoggy air, honking horns, suffocating smoke, and jammed traffic made me feel as though I would faint, nearing a state of unconsciousness. Since the road was going through the widening process, the atmosphere was nothing more than that of a nightmare with traffic moving at snail’s pace and me heaving a sigh of relief with the crawl of every inch; wondering moving on this road was never so annoying. Rather it used to be a very pleasant ride, the one which I always looked forward to thanks to the positive hustle bustle and fresh air around.
On the way back, with same bothersome episode going on over and over, suddenly something flashed into my mind. What happened to the soothingly lush green strip that once separated the main road from the rest, the one with tall eucalyptus trees? The moment this thought occurred to me, I began to stare out of the window to get the view. Surprisingly, not a single thing of this sort was in sight. After looking intently for a while, I happened to spot some trees lying on the ground, perhaps freshly chopped down with leaves still green. A little away, some more trees, the same eucalyptus ones, were on the ground looking old, worn-out, and weary with grief of being ruthlessly axed. “Oh! My God,” I realized the whole story. While widening the road, the trees were chopped down, that’s why the air was so polluted, hot and irritating as the trees were no more there to provide relief. I was overwhelmed with shock. Or at least I felt haggard as never before, perhaps the hot gusts were wilting me, or the voice of my conscience, calling for a peep into my own ways, was making me feel miserable.
My actions that possibly made other lives miserable, if not mine, straight away; exactly the way this hacking down was making me exhausted. The difference was that at times, simply others did not bother. And very often I forgot to care, albeit knowing that it was always Nature that soothed and enthralled me.
Was it the serene blue sky, stretching verdant lands or gleamy rippling seas? I wished to sway with pure air, breathing and enjoying deeply; dreamt of drinking fresh, zealous water, craved to stride on the floor of green plush, all around and all afoot. But it was not possible as Mother Earth was not the same when I gained an understanding of things around me. Its land was covered with heaps of garbage; water pale and contaminated, sky murky with harmful gaseous material. My dreams never really came true but this doesn’t mean that the dreams of others are not fulfilled too; simply because I was not ready to change my careless ways towards Mother Earth that make her cry. Perhaps my predecessors forgot me but I shouldn’t forget those inline after me.
From that day, I started mending my ways; I took up my pen and started contributing my share. I spoke in public about how it felt like being a part of a polluted environment, wrote research papers and a book, formed an NGO, submitted project proposals, came nearly to blows with those responsible, and also made it to several coveted laurels both nationally and internationally.
Still I don’t say that I have even partly paid what I genuinely owed. The struggle still rages, bringing a lot more challenges every day. But time and again I think that if a small episode of merciless harm can make such a big difference in my life, what about others who see but don’t feel? Or they really don’t want to care. The point is to ponder.
Rafia Saleem i
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