Letter from an Ailing Planet

Letter from an Ailing Planet

Ankit Vyas By Ankit Vyas

My dear Children

Hope you are enjoying the soulvaki in Greece, spaghetti in Itlay, tacos in Mexico, sushi in Japan and other rich cuisines as you lay in your bed with your family in your bedrooms. I don’t mean to mean it mean but this could probably be the last letter I write to you. Seldom did I receive a reply for my previous letters, except the ones when you cried in unison at the haughtiness of the Little Boy and Fat Boy and believe me,if you will, I too cried rivers then.

You know I’ve grown old and weak now, and this pain cripples me. Not so long ago, I addressed you a piece of annoying text when the first chimney poked out of London’s skyline and coughed out black clouds of ‘bad air’. I thought to display anger and disgust but it died as a mute protest in my bones, for you’re my beloved and I didn’t want to discourage you.

How it choked my breath !

How I wished to warn you against the repercussions of your actions !

Much as I dislike in saying so, I’ve failed miserably as a mother. And I must plead guilty.

Now coming to the reason of writing this piece, which I’m afraid whether it will catch hold of your consciousness in time. Lately, I’ve been suffering from many illnesses. The fumes from the chimneys choke my breath, the trees you cut make me barren, the rivers you pour into corrode my lungs, the heat your factories reject make me feel feverish and the ozone has dug a hole in my heart. I could go on, but that’s not what I indent to do in the least. I’ve been reduced to a patient in declining health. I have my own metabolic needs and processes that need to be respected and preserved. Howsoever hard I try, I’m unable to meet my day’s ends. It has become impossible to carry on in this way.

But well, I understand why you can’t reply to my silent requests. It is very time consuming, something which you all don’t have.

Your first cries still echo in my ears and I thank my lucky stars, for you’ve not forgotten me completely, although you certainly could have. I’m aware that time and again, a handful of my beloved children attend conventions to discuss and devise ways to undo the harm. I’m also aware of the ones who have left no stone unturned to fill their fill, far exceeding all levels of ethics and morality. It escapes my understanding how you can be so cruel to your mother.

Please don’t confuse this letter as an adrenaline emotional outburst. Take it as a warning, but a mild one, if you will. Your actions may lead to your catastrophic depletion. You must understand that you have a life tenancy, but with a full repairing lease. As one of you interestingly said, you have not inherited me from your forefathers, you’ve borrowed me from your children and letting them down and not being able to look into their eyes with dignity is certainly you must not crave for.

All my luck to you and your children.

Love always
Your Ailing Mother
Earth !