My beloved Earth,
If you ask me when was it that I fell in love with you, I will not be able to pinpoint a time. If you ask me when was it that I became aware of you, I will not be able to pinpoint that time either. Because if I look back at my life and at my earliest memories, I can tell you that I was born loving you and that I was aware of you always.
My first memories of myself are that of a two year old tottering around the orchard surrounding the house. I remember being fascinated by the huge mango and custard apples trees laden with fruits ready to be plucked. I grew up on stories my father used to tell my sister and me while I sat on his lap - of Phantom and Tarzan. I used to listen to the stories captivated not because of the strength and valour of the super heroes but because they lived in the jungles with animals as friends. I grew up wishing for a life just like that....deep in the jungles with trees and animals as friends.
Some of the happiest moments in my childhood were the times I spent with you.....shaking off the dew collected at the base of the yellow and orange cannas, searching for spiders under the flowers, climbing trees, collecting beautiful coloured stones and pebbles from the sand mounds, observing the caterpillar weaving a cocoon, running out to feel the strength of the wind during storms, sitting at the window and getting drenched by the rain.
Oh, how I still wish for that life closer to you....of walking through a field of swaying golden grass, feeling the mellow sun on my skin and the breeze in my hair, of the blue mountains in the distance and the blue sky above....feeling free.
But all I can see now is the spread of concrete and commodities with no regards to your very existence. I can see your beautiful mountains, rivers, forests shrinking, drying up....like a poisonous scab slowly seeping the life blood out of you. How did it ever come to this in so short a time span? I am scared to look into the future, I am scared for you. And every time I think of the future, a strange claustrophobia grips me. Because I know that soon enough, there will be no real escape left.
How I wish I could apologise to you on behalf of my fellow humans and make it all go away. How I wish I could shake each one of them and tell them to stop before it’s too late. I don’t know what the future holds but all I know is that I just can’t let go of you.
And I only hope that, despite whatever happens to you, you will not give up and let go of me.
A weary wayfarer seeking sanctuary