By Mekhala Kulkarni
With the altering atmosphere and the drastic climatic changes which is making every summer even more pathetic, here is an honest letter from the heart of Bangalore.
I don’t recognize myself anymore. I am afraid to look at myself in the mirror. What have you done to me? I gave you everything I had. I accepted you whoever you are but you, ruined me.
I once was beautiful when I had greenery, fresh air and lakes. You moved here to me because of this and now you are taking it away from me?
Rare species of birds would come to me every spring but now, my own common species are missing. When was the last you spotted a sparrow? I miss her. She doesn’t come to see me because of you.
Who gave you to right to ‘beautify’ me? I was happy the way I was, why weren’t you? Why did you want me to become Singapore? Malaysia? Why not simply let me be the way I was?
Look what state I am in today? Every year you complain of the increasing heat, have you ever questioned this while cutting my trees down? You mercilessly chop them off, fill in water bodies and then make artificial ones near your dwelling. You may fill it up once or twice but let me tell you, natural way will always remain abundant.
You human beings are just not content. You are spreading me across lands and rivers. Who do you think I am? An award you won?
I dread to wake up every morning, the honking, screaming – hurt my ears, my children cry in pain. Yes I have children, those tiny harmless animals you carelessly hurt every day, they are mine.
The air you pollute was once so fresh I could breathe life into it but you have made it poisonous now. What pains me the most is why and how did I let you become so rude, greedy and heartless?
You have now forgotten to love me, you have no time to thank me in fact you are stretching me too far. I may be abstract to you but you aren’t to me. You are killing me.
Your cruelty is now reaching new boundaries, how can you make a house for yourself killing the houses of many? Have you ever thought where would my poor birds build their homes if you keep entering theirs?
Climate change disturbs you but what made me change myself, have you ever given that a thought? How long can I keep comforting you when all you do is hurt me?
What is this ‘dream city’ of yours anyway? Is it a place where nothing is natural? Everything is mechanical?
I am sorry; I can’t be that for you. If you aren’t going to mend your ways then with a heavy heart I have to ask you to leave. I would prefer being ‘under-developed’ over ‘abused’
Yours or may be not,