Monday, 13 July 2009
It is perhaps useless to think that we can stop the destruction of our planet. And it is perhaps equally useless to be up in arms and shout and get killed all over the dying environment. You can’t fight money. You can’t fight business. Petroleum. Plastic. Why even waste any more words in even trying to mention the lost cause of tigers. Or vultures. And soon, owls. Not to mention the house sparrows. And our lungs.
There has to be an alternative. And there is.
Chase the beauty of this planet. Whatever is left of it. And there is some.
I took a walk in the park and I stood there watching the clouds play colour with the evening sun. I watched the swallows dance, and the trees move to a music I could not hear. I removed my shoes and walked carelessly on the grass.
The sound of the passing traffic was furious at first. But the grass touched some magic points on my foot that the sound began to drown and I could hear the robin and the thrush and the wren and the blackbird sing their laments.
And I knew then for sure that the revolution is over. The warriors of Chittorh have rode out to meet their deaths and the fort is silent with the cries of the dying women. And I knew then, that I was a ghost trying to fight a war long lost.
I must look at the wildflowers and the birds and the clouds for as long as I can. For one last time that may last for years. But will only be a moment in eternity.