Who does not get overwhelmed by a trip to the hills? So do I? It was 13 June 2008. Harish, an employee of my dad's office and I stood in front of a gleaming white bus of Himachal Tourism, ready to take us to Manali. We were supposed to attend a 14 day long adventure course at Western Himalayan Mountaineering Institute. The course would encompass rock-climbing, rappelling, river-crossing, a bit of mountaineering and ,needless to say, trekking. Both Harish and I were amused as the bus left the bus stand 25 minutes behind schedule at 7:25 pm. We munched the chips and sipped the coke that we had bought at the bus stand as the bus made its way out of Delhi. As usual, the city roads looked more of a parking lot than anything else. When we were out of Delhi, the traffic lessened, road straightened and bus sky-rocketed. The air-conditioner inside the bus literally produced an artificial winter, so much so, that I had to clothe myself in a warm bandi. Even Harish covered himself with a black jacket. Most of the other passengers too did the same. On Harish’s request, the temperature of the air conditioner was increased. The journey till Karnal, where we broke for dinner was uneventful. Harish and I merely chatted and joked. Harish is only 4 years elder to me and, therefore, falls in my age group. After a frugal meal, we re-embarked to Manali. The inner lights were switched off signaling that we may doze off. Who can sleep in a sitting posture? I pushed back the backrest but sleep only came in bits and pieces. I had passed, as also Harish and most of the passengers, virtually, without a blink of sleep. The road journey that had fascinated me till it began, by the next morning, was turning out to be a nightmare. To add to the miseries, the air conditioner malfunctioned. The repair process delayed the bus further. However, we reached Manali safely though thoroughly tired. We took an auto to Western Himalayan Mountaineering Institute for which we shelled Rs. 50. Prior to getting into one of them, a crowd of auto drivers had surrounded us with offers of both opulent and economical hotels.
We met Mrs. Radha Devi, one of the instructors at WHMI and an Everester. She got us a dormitory. The dormitory was not in proper shape. After bathing ourselves we had a frugal but satisfying lunch.
“Shall we visit the market or any near-by tourist attraction?” Harish suggested.
At first I had reluctant thoughts in my mind.
“All right! Market looks interesting.” I said and approved of his idea.
I have lived in the hills for a number of years, namely Sikkim and that authenticates my stand about hilly people. In addition to this, I have also visited the hilly states of Uttarakhand, Kashmir, Meghalaya and West Bengal (Darjeeling District). The people of the hills are like gems in a crown. They are indeed very friendly and helpful.
Harish and I were talking about how to go to the market when a Taxi Qualis stopped near us. The driver lowered the windows and said, “Tourists here. Where do you have to go?”
My first impression was that he was in search of a passenger. However, I was proved wrong. Harish answered in the affirmative.
The driver replied, “I too have to go there as one of my tyres is giving a problem. Come, I will give you a free ride.”
I was moved by his generosity. We got down at the market not before thanking him. The market neither impressed me nor displeased me in terms of appearance. The main road flanked by shops on either side had been permanently freed of traffic. That ensured we as also other tourists and local dwellers could shop in peace. This is a feature common to many of our hill stations, whether it is Shimla, Darjeeling or Gangtok. Like all hill stations, most of the Manali shops dealt in woolens like Kullu and illustrious Pashmina shawls, Himachali caps and the like. Harish is a damn foodie. This was evident when he ate his second sumptuous lunch (Mutton, Butter Nans and salads) of the day. I only settled for a cup of tea. To be honest the trip to the market was futile. Anyway, when one visits a hill station, one rarely omits the market. We returned to WHMI by an auto. Harish after returning pleaded for something rather unusual and unexpected vehemently.
“I am getting bored here. It’s only the first day and it’s another hell of a fortnight to go. I can’t wait to go back to Delhi.”
I was literally speechless for a few minutes. Prior to this statement he had all the praises for Manali. The weather had impressed him the most. What he detested was the remoteness of the place and the loneliness that had engulfed him. I tried to keep him in good humor.
“It’s the first day and we really don’t have anything to do besides count the days to return to Delhi. The course starts tomorrow and all will be well. The loneliness which you feel now will be over when 29 students of Punjab Public School (PPS) join us for the course shortly.”
I cannot claim that my counseling worked miracles but did improve his mood. Our other course mates joined us by evening. When I met them, I found them a bit odd, to say the least. After the usual exchange of customary ‘hellos’, a bell (a spoon banging a plate) rang, which I guessed was the signal for dinner. I had somehow lost my appetite for food. So, it was a light dinner. However, on the contrary, Harish was having his third meal of the evening. I could not prevent myself from indulging into the obvious question: “How do you digest so much?”
I could not understand what he said as his mouth was overstuffed with food. That night, I did not get proper sleep. Nevertheless, it was better than the previous night in the bus. I got up the next morning as early as 5:00 a.m. ( I may have only done that 5 times in my whole life). We were told to assemble at a point (I forget to recall the place) in the Institute premises. Our first instructor, Giriraj laid out the rules in a rather Beware-of-me voice. He voiced his concern and role as under:
“In this Institute we are as strict as the army. Time is of the utmost importance both in this Institute and mountaineering. When in a class, such as this one, silence is to be maintained. I will be all through the course with you. I am not only your instructor but your ultimate mentor for the next 14 days. There are 3 grades, A, B and C which I along with 2 other instructors will bestow you with as per your behavior, stamina and performance in the course. (I guess most of the course mates including me gave a Who-cares-for-one look to him). Mistakes are punished with utmost seriousness…..I hope you will follow what has been told to you today. Thank You.”
After the lecture I and Harish signed up officially for the course as the fees was deposited with the cashier. We were hurried into a Lecture Hall for a welcome lecture by Mr. Gulia, the Deputy Director of the Institute and an able mountaineer. The lecture was thought provoking with the usual ‘Youth-shoulder-the-future-responsibilities’ punches. The lecture was followed by a class on mountaineering knots. In the next hour or so, Giriraj sir taught us 5 to 6 essential knots of mountaineering. A word about these knots. In mountaineering, there are three kinds of knots, namely, climbing knot, joining knot and anchoring knot. The thumb knot (a climbing knot) was the easiet to tie. One just needed to tie the most simple knot that man can ever invent. The others were complicated. When the class ended I knew only the thumb and the rif knots. I had simply not understood the remaining four.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
DONT VANDALISE THE PARADISE THAT THE EARTH IS
WE know there is only one Earth and there shall always be one. Earth is indispensable for all of us. Unfortunately, our beloved Earth is endangered. We humans are largely if not solely responsible for it. Humans are the only organisms that can modify the environment. Development of the human race cannot be at the cost of environmental degradation. We must realise that the development that we so much aspire for, will eventually lead to an environmental catastrophe and our demise. Today there are an uncountable number of environmental concerns. These include air pollution, global warming, pollution of rivers, melting of glaciers, mass-scale deforestation, extinction of precious wildlife species, submergence of land due to construction of dams, excessive release of particulate matter in air through mining and other industrial activities, oil spills in oceans and seas, degradation in the quality of soil through over-use of pesticides and chemical fertilisers, forest fires, industrial disasters like Bhopal Gas Tragedy, Chernobyl Nuclear Disaster etc., euthrophication in water bodies, depletion in ozone layer, silting in rivers and seas, radioactive leakage from nuclear reactors and depletion in the quality of environment by nuclear tests ( to site an example, when the nuclear tests were held in Pokhran, it actually led to a moderate earthquake with, of course, no casualties) and release of chloro fluoro carbons. The list is virtually endless. To say the least, the number of environmental issues is as many as the stars.
Studying environment is as important as brushing your teeth daily. Therefore, the Honorable Supreme Court is correct in many ways when it made it mandatory for the school students to study Environmental Science. So alarming is the situation that it has been made a compulsory subject for students taking the Class 10 and Class 12 Board Exams. Let us discuss some of the important environmental concerns.
GLOBAL WARMING
CAPTION FOR THE PICTURE: SNOW CLAD MOUNTAINS WILL BE HISTORY IF GLOBAL WARMING IS OUR FUTURE
Global warming has emerged as one of the most challenging environmental issues globally. In the years to come it may be the most major deterrent for us to carry our lives normally. In the environmentalists' circle it is one of the many buzz words. Global warming as a concept is co-related with deforestation and greenhouse effect. If global warming reaches its pinnacle then we may literally find ourselves on the sea bed, which you shall understand as you read this article.
DEFINITION AND CONCEPT
Strictly speaking, global warming refers to the natural warming of the Earth's atmosphere throughout its natural history. However, the global warming with which we are concerned is more of a man-made phenomenon than a natural one.
More generally speaking, Global Warming is rise in the global average temperature of the Earth's atmosphere due to increase in the level of greenhouse gases. Greenhouse gases are chemical compounds in the atmosphere that trap heat there. They retain a proportion of the sun’s heat through a mechanism known as the greenhouse effect . Greenhouse gases, mainly carbon dioxide (CO2), are naturally present in the atmosphere in small quantities (less than 1%). Other green house gases include methane, nitrous oxide, hydrofluorocarbons, perfluorinated compounds and sulphur hexafluoride. The molecules of greenhouse gases have an unique property of trapping the sun's incoming radiation in the form of heat resulting in a rise of the global average temperature. A rise in global average temperature has many implications. The most prominent among them is melting of polar ice caps, which would increase the global mean sea level. This will lead to flooding of the coastal areas. We have seen in the recent past what an adverse effect the Tsunami had on the coastal areas. A rise in sea level is itself harmful for the marine life. Other consequences that global warming would have include melting of glaciers leading to flooding of rivers, change in the climatic pattern of the world which may depriciate rainfall. A depreciation in rainfall may lead to dwindling of world food stocks. Needless to say, any fall in world food stocks can seriously affect the world economy and can cause world famines. This proves that global warming will not only have environmental consequences but also social and economic ones. Carbon dioxide is the most major greenhouse gas. It's contribution to the Earth's atmosphere is only 0.33% but many hundred times more as far as global warming is concerned. The natural source of carbon dioxide is drawn from respiration of animals and plants. Other more dangerous and man -made ones include exhausts of factories and vehicles.
Rise in global tempertature is itself harmful for the health of plants, animals and humans. Carbon Dioxide levels have increased since the onset of Industrial Revolution. As an alarming data, the level of carbon dioxide globally has increased from 280 parts per million by volume in 1750 to about 358 parts per million by volume in 1994. the level of carbon dioxide is rising at a steady rate of 1.5 parts per million by volume annually. It is indeed a global concern which needs a vital attention. Since the 19th century, the global average temperature has risen by 0.3 degree celcius-0.6 degree celcius, which is a substantial increase in temperature.
It is expected that the temperature of the Earth shall rise by 1 degree celciius to 3.5 degree celcius by 2100. As we have found a rise in temperature, it is expected that the global mean sea level is going to rise by 15 cm to 95 cm.
There are aerosols and gases like sulphur dioxide, which tend to deflect sunlight and sun's radiation, thus acting as a barrier for global warming. However, aerosols and sulphur dioxide are short lived as opposed to long lived green house gases.
STEPS TAKEN TO CURB GLOBAL WARMING
With a view to discuss the ways of solving global warming, an Earth Summit, which was an international conference was held at Rio in 1992. More recently, in 1998, another conference called the Conference of Parties was held at Buenous Aires, Argentina. The largest contributors to global warming are the developed countries. Leading them all is USA. However, there is more pressure on the developing countries than developed countries to curb their greenhouse gas emissions. International pressure is mounting on the two most populous countrires of the world to adopt a more proactive role in this regard. Carbon dioxide is most commonly released in air by burning of fossils fuels like coal and wood. Therefore, international conferences call upon the nations to use eco-friendly and renewable sources of energy. Another objective of the these conferences is to call on the nations to increase their forest cover as they inhale carbon dioxide and give out oxygen thereby maintaining the carbon dioxide- oxygen balance.
Another body to safegurad the environment called Framework Convention on Climate Change(FCCC) was constituted in 1992. It is the developed countries that have the technology to reduce carbon dioxide emissions.
In 1995, the parties to the Framework Convention on Climate Change (FCCC) at their first meeting in Berlin, Germany declared the commitents made in 1992 to reduce greenhouse gases as inadequate. Berlin Mandate of FCCC aimed at analysis and assessment of just what next steps might be taken to limit greenhouse gas emissions. The process resulted in the negotiation of a protocol, the final details of which were completed at the third meeting of the Conference of the parties to the Framework Convention held from 1-12 December 1997 in Kyoto, Japan.
The Kyoto Protocol commits industrialized nations to specific legally binding emission reduction targets for six greenhouse gases- carbon dioxide, methane, nitrous oxide, hydrofluorocarbons, perfluorinated compounds and sulphur hexafluoride.
For India, the climate change issue has several effects:
First of all, although India does not currently have any obligations under the convention to reduce its greenhouse gas emissions, international pressure will keep escalating in this regard. We need to prepare an emission inventory. We need to prepare an emission inventory. We also need to document and analyse our work in areas such as renewable energy, wasteland development and afforestation. All said and done, a little bit of global warming and climate change is inevitable. We must act soon to curb the effects of global warming before the story takes a full circle. Very recently, there have been unusual floods in Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, Assam and Mumbai in India and also in UK, USA and Europe showing us that global warming is steadily spreading.
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Rakesh Sharma now had a five year long career as a private detective. With merely other detectives, namely, Indu Misra and Ashish Hinduja as his associates had solved twelve murder cases and exactly a couple of robbery cases. They called their agency Sharma Private Detectives Ltd. Before opening the agency Sharma had worked as Inspector in the Crime Investigation Department (C.I.D.) of the South-East Province. He worked for thirty five years for the C.I.D. He was kept busy by the countless criminal cases that came before him. He had been an important entity of the C.I.D. In his long tenure with the CID he had solved over hundred cases and took pride and privilege in ushering justice to one and many. He had been an efficient officer and had received many medals and brought laurels both to his family and province. Those thirty five years of service were indeed proud moments. As his personal nature went, Sharma could not be kept without work. So insteadee of living a peaceful life after retirement, as most of his colleagues did in the CID, he chose to open a detective agency in order to keep himself busy. Indu Misra and Ashish Hinduja, his colleagues from CID who were much the same as Sharma, too decided to join him. Sharma, now a man of sixty two had a commanding personality.
He looked astounding with his thick moustache and hair which had just started to grey. He was fair, had a strong built and was tall with a height of over six feet. He wore spectacles as he had had a myopic vision. He had a stiff nose, eyes that were spindle shaped, ears that never enshrined wax, a physique of an athlete, an elephantine memory and possessed a wit that could dazzle anyone. He could talk on any subject from something as simple as daily events to something as complex as rocket science. He was neither a stout nor a feather-weighing person.
He took keen interest in cricket and table tennis. He would go to the local sports club often for a game of table tennis with his associates Ashish Hinduja and Indu Misra. He was an avid listener of music. In a nutshell, he was a normal middle class person like many others aspiring to be richer by the day.
Sharma had been out of work for five months. It had never been so long that Rakesh had not had a case.
He was a workaholic. The last case had been the toughest of his career so far which had kept Indu Misra, him and Ashish Hinduja busy for three months – The Priya Lal murder case. Everyone including the media, police (as and when he came in contact with them), his relatives and close friends had believed the poor domestic help of the victim to be the murderer. His wife Asha Sharma who would be a large helping hand in most of his cases had also taken this to be an open-and-shut case as highlighted by the media reports. It was only because of Rakesh and his associates in the detective agency that proved the poor servant of the home, Lokesh not only innocent but also brought out the brave character in him. The investigation would not have been successful without the active support of the servant and the keen interest and adamant attitude of the victim’s father who had always believed Lokesh to be innocent and faithful.
Rakesh sat reclined on his sofa in his office as he flipped through the pages of the Priya Lal File that he had drafted with the utmost care. How proud he felt when he came across the last page- the page that had it all with the culprit’s photograph who was none other than the victim’s husband-Raj Lal. It had won him many laurels everywhere and the reward was a cool one hundred thousand buldas ( the currency of the province), a sum of money which was his fees for the complicated cases. This case not only made him rich but also famous. He had hit the headlines of the papers and also television news channels of the South-East Province.
Rakesh Sharma’s childhood was one with an abundance of scarcity. His father had been poor and his only source of income was the crops, such as, rice and pulses that the family harvested and sold on a minuscule one hectare of land in a tiny village called Mirganj with a population of about seven hundred people . It was merely ten kilometres away from the posh capital of the province Nandiguri but light years away in terms of development. To say there was a primary health centre but for all practical purposes it was a body without a soul. Though the buiding was a remarkable piece of architecture but the doctors posted to this health facility preferred staying in Nandiguri. They came to the hospital only on the first day of every month to receive their salary cheques. These were days when the villagers would flock around the doctors as the village was in the clutches of disease.
Rakesh had struggled in all walks of life. He went to a school whose building was as rugged and old as the mountains. Teachers were a scarce commodity and even when available, were not of great help to him and his other fellow-students. Even in the absence of a good school, Rakesh excelled in academics. The village did not have power connection and absolutely no facilities for irrigation. The Mahakund river was both a good servant and a bad master. The village relied on the river for everything from bathing to drinking and also for watering the crops. It was only in the monsoons that people realised the dark side of the river. When the village witnessed torrential down-pours the river often broke the embankment and flooded the village. This by then had become an annual feature. The mud and thatch houses of the have-nots including Rakesh’s would be dismantled and had to be rebuilt time and again. Only the palatial house of the zamindar would stand out. Everything was scarce but poverty was in plenty.
All were poor except for the sole zamindar who had grown rich in years with his money lending business. All the farmers practiced subsistence farming except the zamindar, who had around 100 hectares of land. He grew paddy, wheat and some excellent spices. In lieu of farming he also had other enterprises such as a eating-joint along the highway and a book shop. He was known for his brute policies as far his money lending activity was concerned. He showed no mercy towards fellow villagers.
Rakesh performed well both at the secondary school level and also at the higher secondary level. This performance paved his way to the prestigious university of the province. At the university he secured the first rank. He finally joined the C.I.D which was considered the cherry on the icing of the cake.
Rakesh placed the Priya Lal file back on the bookshelf and came out of his study in the living room where his wife, seated on her favourite sofa was sipping steaming hot tea.
The living room was a hall with dimensions of fifteen feet by eight feet. The floor was like a chess board. It was laid down with equal size and alternate squares of white and black marbles. The walls were painted in grass green colour. The ceiling was white with a border of black all around. Sharma’s house had three bedrooms, a kitchen and two bathrooms.
Sharma left the file and the study to seat himself on one of the sofas in the living room. His wife was already seated on her usual chair near the air-conditioner. It was morning time with sun shinning in all its glory. The summers were at their peak.
Sharma began the conversation with his wife.
“Five months, no case. It’s been hard to be out of work”.
“You are such a workaholic. It’s been time since we have been on a vacation” said his wife.
“I agree. I am willing to take you for a vocation only if time permits. We may plan before it’s too late. You know anytime, anywhere a disaster can strike. Misfortune for someone is sometimes my fortune as it brings both work to keep me engaged and money so that we may go for a vocation.” Said the sleuth rather firmly.
“Where can we go anyway?” questioned Sharma.
“That can be decided. First give me an assurance as to your willingness to take me out. It’s been boring to be in this small town. There are so many mediums to peep into. There is an intelligent person like you to consult, our widely travelled neighbour, Nandgopal to consult . What else? Oh! Yeah one can always consult the elaborate travelogue; and you name the rest. To add, we can always take the help of a good travel agent.” suggested Sharma’s wife.
“I must appreciate your enthusiasm. I must divulge I have worked like a bull all my life with no calm. It’s one of those infrequent moments when I have got a long break from work. I must grab this opportunity to take both you and myself out for a holiday. I promise I will surely do, honey. But just give me a few days to think. I am myself thrilled.” Sharma voiced his willingness merrily.
“I never imagined you would agree to the proposal so soon, so easily. I am more than glad that you have agreed.”
With Sharma’s approval Mrs. Sharma was elated. The conversation ended.
The next couple of days were run of the mill for the couple. Rakesh Sharma was not as interested as Mrs. Sharma in fishing out the untold number of places of tourist interest. She was as attached to the travelogue as a new born is to his mother. She went through the pages as a scientist goes with his experiment. The book was a magnum opus with vibrant details of the country’s places. She learnt about new places. She was enamoured by the snow clad mountains of the south of her beloved country. She looked at the gigantic waves of the Blue Sea with awe. Within the space of a day and a half she had scooped out, not literally though, the pictures and the commentaries that ran on the breathtaking pictures in her mind. Mrs. Sharma had been one who loathed hectic cities even if they treasured valued heritage worth looking and appreciating. However, she had the highest regard for the rich architecture of her forefathers. She was attracted to places of natural beauty as pins are to a magnet. “How captivating it is when a first-rate picture is coupled with a charismatic description in the most thought-provoking words?” She wondered. The pictures were so gorgeous that it was hard to judge which of them was the most enthralling. At the same time there was so much of variety to choose from. There were mighty sand dunes of the North-East worth applauding; the wildlife sanctuaries housed some of the most appealing species of both flora and fauna that looked splendid; the vast beaches were nothing short of an icing on the cake and the sea waves that took shape in the background could well indeed be called the cherry on the icing; the mountains truly occupied a high place in her heart; the most aspiring and unusual scene in the book was of the steaming, steaming lava escaping out of the crater of the volcano that had recently erupted after the massive earthquake that jolted the country, on the inhabited island of Girpur off the north coast. ( She could only suffice her expression with an enthusiastic ‘Waah!Waah’) and finally she had relentless praise for the geysers (the hot water springs that gush out of the Earth owing to changes in pressure in the layers of earth beneath) located in the far inlands of the North of her country. It was unassumingly difficult to decide her destined destination.
She observed,” I never knew how vast our country was. I can decide as to which of them is better.” She would show the pictures to her husband with a great sense of pride after having mastered a somewhat encyclopaedic knowledge about the tourist places.
“Tell me, tell me, which is your favourite picture,” posing simple questions which had difficult answers.
“I am as helpless as you are. Since you plead so much to choose the best, I would say that the pick of the pictures is the volcano one. It’s the place I look forward to visit. It’s a place that one rarely gets an opportunity to visit. So dear, take it as the final word from me. The picture itself may attract millions of pairs of eyeballs. I am sure the place if visited will be liked to the fullest. Besides, I see there are other interesting places to see around the island and is not too far from the bustling city of Hariagunj. There are also enough places to see there as well.”
“How nice of you? You have solved a great problem of mine. Thanks a ton! So we are visiting Hariagunj and Girpur. Amazing places,” she remarked joyfully.
Sharma got the rail tickets for Hariagunj. Mrs. Sharma began packing for the tour rather meticulously. Soon the much awaited day arrived.
The railway station was its usual self, crowded and chaotic. It was a hot day and noon time. The noise of the railway station was ear-splitting. The commotion never broke. The coolies and their clients would get into heated debates over payment. The coolies demanded a higher payment and asserted that they had burdened luggage beyond their capacities. Their clients argued that they were unimaginably slow and discourteous. The payment made at the end of the argument would be subject to compromises made from either side. The coolies were notorious for their high demands for money and commensurate productivity. The trains came and went, passengers boarded and de-boarded them and coolies shuffled from one platform to another. Everyone was on their beat. There was no respite from the heat. For a poor province, an air-conditioned railway station was a myth. The few fans that lined up the ceiling were ineffective and rarely worked. The benches were too less to accommodate the mighty crowd of the station. The platforms were laden in a thick cover of dust for want of sweeping. In a few words the infrastructure of the railway station was crumbling. In the backdrop of a commotion that never ceased, the Sharmas patiently awaited the train. In their vicinity stood a man of perhaps thirty and a passenger (an air bag hung from his shoulder) engulfed in a similar kind of boredom also awaited the arrival of the train. An uneasy calm descended on Rakesh Sharma when he saw him. “Where have I seen him? Or have I seen him ever? The face looks familiar.” He surveyed his face closely. Much to his surprise the jet black moustache of the man and his general built were conforming his doubts to an extent. After wrestling with his memory he concluded that he had indeed seen him before. “But where, how and when? All right, I have seen him. That’s done. Then why the hell does it give me a sweat?” He questioned himself to find no answers. He continued to probe his mind as the train whistled and slowly approached the platform.
The commotion got still intense, not even getting suppressed by the engine’s roar. Asha Sharma got excited as she saw the train. The people collected their luggage. The train eventually came to a stop. Much to the relief and surprise of the Sharmas their coach was not away from them. The coolies gathered around the passengers. Rakesh Sharma made a convenient deal with one of them. The coolie burdened most of Sharma’s luggage on his head while one air bag hung from his shoulder. They advanced towards their destined coach while literally rubbing shoulders with the passers-by.
The air conditioned coach was more than a respite from the heat outside. Finding their respective seats was effortless. After placing the luggage underneath the seats the coolie departed, satisfied with the payment. The man he saw was still vivid in his mind. However, he felt relieved to think that he would not have to see him anymore.
Rakesh Sharma sat reclined on the train seat while his wife remained preoccupied with readjusting the luggage that had been placed under the berths of the coach. Rakesh Sharma took a sigh of relief.
It was pleasant for the Sharmas to note that most of their coach was vacant. There was no one else in their vicinity.
“It’s nice there’s not too much of a rush in this particular coach at least,” remarked Asha Sharma.
“I would be more than pleased if the other berths close to us remain vacant throughout the journey,” said Sharma optimistically.
He was more than certain that his wish had materialised when the train began pulling out of the railway station. However, as fate would have it, there was a big surprise in store for him. Rakesh Sharma was merrily chatting with his wife, when a hoarse voice interrupted them.
“Is this seat 35?”
“Yes it is,” Asha Sharma replied.
Rakesh Sharma was stunned to silence. He was undeniably the same man that Rakesh had seen on the platform. The uneasy calm that had descended on him for reasons best known to nobody when he first saw him was now more intense. Rakesh Sharma could not understand the perplexity of his state of mind.
“What is wrong with me? The man is just a man and not a monster. He’s not going to eat me up alive. Why does this man’s sight take away my calm? My memory tells me that I have seen him before but even that’s too small a reason to make me bewildered.” Sharma thoughtfully interpreted the situation.
His wife tried to start a polite conversation with the same man as the train picked up speed leaving behind the station.
“So where are you going? Hariagunj?”
“Yes”
“Nice! We too are going there. Where do you live?”
“Hariagunj”
The conversation continued as the two of them (Sharma could suffice his bit by a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’) exchanged information about each other’s whereabouts. Rakesh Sharma by now was sure that he had rubbed shoulders with this man somewhere, sometime. After much talk the conversation ceased. Rakesh felt easy. The train moved as it made its way out of the town. Asha Sharma by nature was talkative. On the contrary, Rakesh Sharma preferred to be quiet. He had gone even quieter in this man’s presence. By now Asha Sharma had unearthed the basic details of this man. His name was Khalid Hussain who had an automobile store in Hariagunj. The name Khalid Hussain created ripples in Rakesh Sharma’s brain. This made him to realise that he had indeed been in his company for a number of hours a couple of years ago. The name had unravelled the puzzle. Slowly the information that was enclosed in his mind regarding this man came back.
He thoughtfully remembered,” Yes this name, Khalid Hussain is familiar. I remember meeting him once at Nandgopal’s. I can safely conclude that he is the same man. Not an inch of doubt here.”
His thought was broken when the train conductor appeared to check their tickets. The tickets were produced and duly attested by the conductor. Just as the conductor got up from the seat, his mobile phone started ringing. The ring tone sounded peculiar and unique. But for Rakesh Sharma it was a tone that he had heard before. After pressing the answer button the conductor walked away. Ripples had again started in Rakesh Sharma’s brain. This tiny incident had brought back all the memories associated with Khalid Hussain from the remotest corners of his brain.
His memory was now as active as a supercomputer. His encounter two years ago with Khalid Hussain was coming back fast and clear.
“Khalid Hussain…………..that ring tone……………hmmmmm………..Yes! That’s exactly why I am so shaken. That ring tone and probably the phone that the conductor had is the same as the one I robbed. Yeah! Now I remember very vividly it belonged to this man.”
Rakesh Sharma had been a man of principles. However, this had been one of those very rare moments of his life when his lust for a material possession had surpassed his morality. The mobile phone that he stole was a momentary pleasure. It had indeed arrested his attention. The graphics of the phone were truly awe-inspiring. To add to its splendour, it came with a load of melodious ring tones. It was the ring tones that made the phone stand out. The stylish and sleek get-up of the phone were worth appreciating. More interestingly, it was endowed with a television, a rarity in those days and even now. Rakesh Sharma had looked left, right and centre. “Nobody in sight! The phone is phenomenal. It’s a rare chance. Pinching it looks to be a great idea.” He had left his neighbour, Nandgopals’s house as soon as he lifted the phone. The fear of getting caught was apparent, then. When he came out of Nandgopal’s house all safe, the guilt of having done something out of the book grabbed him. He realised the vulgarity of his behaviour. “This is theft. I don’t steal things.” He stood in shame just metres away from Nandgopal’s house.
“I can still correct my mistake. I will get back to the house and place it where it had been.” Having decided to again embark on the path of moral honesty brought more joy than the sight of the phone.
“The door was open when I left. All I have to do is quietly enter, place it on the table and quietly get out of the place unannounced. There is no scope of getting caught.” He said it to himself. It had appeared an easy scheme. The very thought brought a sweet song to his lips as he neared the door.
He pushed it timidly. The door didn’t open. A second more sincere effort was equally futile. He realised that the door had been bolted from inside. Things were not going as planned. Khalid Hussain and Nandgopal had reassembled in the living room. They were casually conversing.
“So looks like Rakesh left without telling anyone.” Nandgopal guessed.
“Maybe he’s somewhere else in the house…in the bathroom.” Khalid speculated.
He had shouted out his name. The person whose name had been called out stood dumbstruck. He wondered that if he entered the house, chances of getting caught with the phone were bright. Ringing the bell would have certainly invited more troubles. He looked heavenwards and sought the Almighty’s help. “May the phone get back to the owner while I remain uncaught.” He patiently stood there hoping for a miracle to unfold, while he listened to the conversation inside.
“Let me just see if he’s anywhere around.” Said Nandgopal.
“Sure.” Khalid had approved.
“He’s nowhere. I checked the bathrooms as well.” Nandgopal had reported to Khalid Hussain.
“Hmmm……He may have gone back.” An amused Khalid had said.
Rakesh Sharma had stood outside in a dilemma. He had stressfully thought,” Shall I or shan’t I? How do I go in and give this phone back to its owner? It would be a shame when he would ask that how it had landed in my possession.”
It was then that the unthinkable had happened for Rakesh Sharma.
Khalid had said to Nandgopal: ”I can’t locate my phone. Have you seen it anywhere?”
When Rakesh Sharma had heard these words, he had gone still like a statue. He could not move his body but his ears had continued to function.
Inside the house, Khalid Hussain had searched the entire house. When he could not find it he was concerned as well as enraged.
“It’s my fault. I am known for losing things. Let me check again. Nandgopal, why don’t you also help me this time?”
Hence Khalid had begun searching for the second time with ‘I-wil-not-give-up-searching-unless-I-find-it’ mind-set. The result again had been the same. After an endless number of searches they had to finally give up. Khalid and Nandgopal were trying for the last time in the living room.
Khalid, furious by now had shouted:”I think there is only one possibility. It is stolen.”
Those words had wrapped up the day for Rakesh Sharma. The words had pierced his heart like a pin. As embarrassed as ever, he had quietly left the place. The next few days had brought him mental unrest. He had remorsed his act of stealing. However, he did not have the courage to face his neighbour, Nandgopal. Therefore to weigh down the burden of his sin, he had gifted the phone
He looked astounding with his thick moustache and hair which had just started to grey. He was fair, had a strong built and was tall with a height of over six feet. He wore spectacles as he had had a myopic vision. He had a stiff nose, eyes that were spindle shaped, ears that never enshrined wax, a physique of an athlete, an elephantine memory and possessed a wit that could dazzle anyone. He could talk on any subject from something as simple as daily events to something as complex as rocket science. He was neither a stout nor a feather-weighing person.
He took keen interest in cricket and table tennis. He would go to the local sports club often for a game of table tennis with his associates Ashish Hinduja and Indu Misra. He was an avid listener of music. In a nutshell, he was a normal middle class person like many others aspiring to be richer by the day.
Sharma had been out of work for five months. It had never been so long that Rakesh had not had a case.
He was a workaholic. The last case had been the toughest of his career so far which had kept Indu Misra, him and Ashish Hinduja busy for three months – The Priya Lal murder case. Everyone including the media, police (as and when he came in contact with them), his relatives and close friends had believed the poor domestic help of the victim to be the murderer. His wife Asha Sharma who would be a large helping hand in most of his cases had also taken this to be an open-and-shut case as highlighted by the media reports. It was only because of Rakesh and his associates in the detective agency that proved the poor servant of the home, Lokesh not only innocent but also brought out the brave character in him. The investigation would not have been successful without the active support of the servant and the keen interest and adamant attitude of the victim’s father who had always believed Lokesh to be innocent and faithful.
Rakesh sat reclined on his sofa in his office as he flipped through the pages of the Priya Lal File that he had drafted with the utmost care. How proud he felt when he came across the last page- the page that had it all with the culprit’s photograph who was none other than the victim’s husband-Raj Lal. It had won him many laurels everywhere and the reward was a cool one hundred thousand buldas ( the currency of the province), a sum of money which was his fees for the complicated cases. This case not only made him rich but also famous. He had hit the headlines of the papers and also television news channels of the South-East Province.
Rakesh Sharma’s childhood was one with an abundance of scarcity. His father had been poor and his only source of income was the crops, such as, rice and pulses that the family harvested and sold on a minuscule one hectare of land in a tiny village called Mirganj with a population of about seven hundred people . It was merely ten kilometres away from the posh capital of the province Nandiguri but light years away in terms of development. To say there was a primary health centre but for all practical purposes it was a body without a soul. Though the buiding was a remarkable piece of architecture but the doctors posted to this health facility preferred staying in Nandiguri. They came to the hospital only on the first day of every month to receive their salary cheques. These were days when the villagers would flock around the doctors as the village was in the clutches of disease.
Rakesh had struggled in all walks of life. He went to a school whose building was as rugged and old as the mountains. Teachers were a scarce commodity and even when available, were not of great help to him and his other fellow-students. Even in the absence of a good school, Rakesh excelled in academics. The village did not have power connection and absolutely no facilities for irrigation. The Mahakund river was both a good servant and a bad master. The village relied on the river for everything from bathing to drinking and also for watering the crops. It was only in the monsoons that people realised the dark side of the river. When the village witnessed torrential down-pours the river often broke the embankment and flooded the village. This by then had become an annual feature. The mud and thatch houses of the have-nots including Rakesh’s would be dismantled and had to be rebuilt time and again. Only the palatial house of the zamindar would stand out. Everything was scarce but poverty was in plenty.
All were poor except for the sole zamindar who had grown rich in years with his money lending business. All the farmers practiced subsistence farming except the zamindar, who had around 100 hectares of land. He grew paddy, wheat and some excellent spices. In lieu of farming he also had other enterprises such as a eating-joint along the highway and a book shop. He was known for his brute policies as far his money lending activity was concerned. He showed no mercy towards fellow villagers.
Rakesh performed well both at the secondary school level and also at the higher secondary level. This performance paved his way to the prestigious university of the province. At the university he secured the first rank. He finally joined the C.I.D which was considered the cherry on the icing of the cake.
Rakesh placed the Priya Lal file back on the bookshelf and came out of his study in the living room where his wife, seated on her favourite sofa was sipping steaming hot tea.
The living room was a hall with dimensions of fifteen feet by eight feet. The floor was like a chess board. It was laid down with equal size and alternate squares of white and black marbles. The walls were painted in grass green colour. The ceiling was white with a border of black all around. Sharma’s house had three bedrooms, a kitchen and two bathrooms.
Sharma left the file and the study to seat himself on one of the sofas in the living room. His wife was already seated on her usual chair near the air-conditioner. It was morning time with sun shinning in all its glory. The summers were at their peak.
Sharma began the conversation with his wife.
“Five months, no case. It’s been hard to be out of work”.
“You are such a workaholic. It’s been time since we have been on a vacation” said his wife.
“I agree. I am willing to take you for a vocation only if time permits. We may plan before it’s too late. You know anytime, anywhere a disaster can strike. Misfortune for someone is sometimes my fortune as it brings both work to keep me engaged and money so that we may go for a vocation.” Said the sleuth rather firmly.
“Where can we go anyway?” questioned Sharma.
“That can be decided. First give me an assurance as to your willingness to take me out. It’s been boring to be in this small town. There are so many mediums to peep into. There is an intelligent person like you to consult, our widely travelled neighbour, Nandgopal to consult . What else? Oh! Yeah one can always consult the elaborate travelogue; and you name the rest. To add, we can always take the help of a good travel agent.” suggested Sharma’s wife.
“I must appreciate your enthusiasm. I must divulge I have worked like a bull all my life with no calm. It’s one of those infrequent moments when I have got a long break from work. I must grab this opportunity to take both you and myself out for a holiday. I promise I will surely do, honey. But just give me a few days to think. I am myself thrilled.” Sharma voiced his willingness merrily.
“I never imagined you would agree to the proposal so soon, so easily. I am more than glad that you have agreed.”
With Sharma’s approval Mrs. Sharma was elated. The conversation ended.
The next couple of days were run of the mill for the couple. Rakesh Sharma was not as interested as Mrs. Sharma in fishing out the untold number of places of tourist interest. She was as attached to the travelogue as a new born is to his mother. She went through the pages as a scientist goes with his experiment. The book was a magnum opus with vibrant details of the country’s places. She learnt about new places. She was enamoured by the snow clad mountains of the south of her beloved country. She looked at the gigantic waves of the Blue Sea with awe. Within the space of a day and a half she had scooped out, not literally though, the pictures and the commentaries that ran on the breathtaking pictures in her mind. Mrs. Sharma had been one who loathed hectic cities even if they treasured valued heritage worth looking and appreciating. However, she had the highest regard for the rich architecture of her forefathers. She was attracted to places of natural beauty as pins are to a magnet. “How captivating it is when a first-rate picture is coupled with a charismatic description in the most thought-provoking words?” She wondered. The pictures were so gorgeous that it was hard to judge which of them was the most enthralling. At the same time there was so much of variety to choose from. There were mighty sand dunes of the North-East worth applauding; the wildlife sanctuaries housed some of the most appealing species of both flora and fauna that looked splendid; the vast beaches were nothing short of an icing on the cake and the sea waves that took shape in the background could well indeed be called the cherry on the icing; the mountains truly occupied a high place in her heart; the most aspiring and unusual scene in the book was of the steaming, steaming lava escaping out of the crater of the volcano that had recently erupted after the massive earthquake that jolted the country, on the inhabited island of Girpur off the north coast. ( She could only suffice her expression with an enthusiastic ‘Waah!Waah’) and finally she had relentless praise for the geysers (the hot water springs that gush out of the Earth owing to changes in pressure in the layers of earth beneath) located in the far inlands of the North of her country. It was unassumingly difficult to decide her destined destination.
She observed,” I never knew how vast our country was. I can decide as to which of them is better.” She would show the pictures to her husband with a great sense of pride after having mastered a somewhat encyclopaedic knowledge about the tourist places.
“Tell me, tell me, which is your favourite picture,” posing simple questions which had difficult answers.
“I am as helpless as you are. Since you plead so much to choose the best, I would say that the pick of the pictures is the volcano one. It’s the place I look forward to visit. It’s a place that one rarely gets an opportunity to visit. So dear, take it as the final word from me. The picture itself may attract millions of pairs of eyeballs. I am sure the place if visited will be liked to the fullest. Besides, I see there are other interesting places to see around the island and is not too far from the bustling city of Hariagunj. There are also enough places to see there as well.”
“How nice of you? You have solved a great problem of mine. Thanks a ton! So we are visiting Hariagunj and Girpur. Amazing places,” she remarked joyfully.
Sharma got the rail tickets for Hariagunj. Mrs. Sharma began packing for the tour rather meticulously. Soon the much awaited day arrived.
The railway station was its usual self, crowded and chaotic. It was a hot day and noon time. The noise of the railway station was ear-splitting. The commotion never broke. The coolies and their clients would get into heated debates over payment. The coolies demanded a higher payment and asserted that they had burdened luggage beyond their capacities. Their clients argued that they were unimaginably slow and discourteous. The payment made at the end of the argument would be subject to compromises made from either side. The coolies were notorious for their high demands for money and commensurate productivity. The trains came and went, passengers boarded and de-boarded them and coolies shuffled from one platform to another. Everyone was on their beat. There was no respite from the heat. For a poor province, an air-conditioned railway station was a myth. The few fans that lined up the ceiling were ineffective and rarely worked. The benches were too less to accommodate the mighty crowd of the station. The platforms were laden in a thick cover of dust for want of sweeping. In a few words the infrastructure of the railway station was crumbling. In the backdrop of a commotion that never ceased, the Sharmas patiently awaited the train. In their vicinity stood a man of perhaps thirty and a passenger (an air bag hung from his shoulder) engulfed in a similar kind of boredom also awaited the arrival of the train. An uneasy calm descended on Rakesh Sharma when he saw him. “Where have I seen him? Or have I seen him ever? The face looks familiar.” He surveyed his face closely. Much to his surprise the jet black moustache of the man and his general built were conforming his doubts to an extent. After wrestling with his memory he concluded that he had indeed seen him before. “But where, how and when? All right, I have seen him. That’s done. Then why the hell does it give me a sweat?” He questioned himself to find no answers. He continued to probe his mind as the train whistled and slowly approached the platform.
The commotion got still intense, not even getting suppressed by the engine’s roar. Asha Sharma got excited as she saw the train. The people collected their luggage. The train eventually came to a stop. Much to the relief and surprise of the Sharmas their coach was not away from them. The coolies gathered around the passengers. Rakesh Sharma made a convenient deal with one of them. The coolie burdened most of Sharma’s luggage on his head while one air bag hung from his shoulder. They advanced towards their destined coach while literally rubbing shoulders with the passers-by.
The air conditioned coach was more than a respite from the heat outside. Finding their respective seats was effortless. After placing the luggage underneath the seats the coolie departed, satisfied with the payment. The man he saw was still vivid in his mind. However, he felt relieved to think that he would not have to see him anymore.
Rakesh Sharma sat reclined on the train seat while his wife remained preoccupied with readjusting the luggage that had been placed under the berths of the coach. Rakesh Sharma took a sigh of relief.
It was pleasant for the Sharmas to note that most of their coach was vacant. There was no one else in their vicinity.
“It’s nice there’s not too much of a rush in this particular coach at least,” remarked Asha Sharma.
“I would be more than pleased if the other berths close to us remain vacant throughout the journey,” said Sharma optimistically.
He was more than certain that his wish had materialised when the train began pulling out of the railway station. However, as fate would have it, there was a big surprise in store for him. Rakesh Sharma was merrily chatting with his wife, when a hoarse voice interrupted them.
“Is this seat 35?”
“Yes it is,” Asha Sharma replied.
Rakesh Sharma was stunned to silence. He was undeniably the same man that Rakesh had seen on the platform. The uneasy calm that had descended on him for reasons best known to nobody when he first saw him was now more intense. Rakesh Sharma could not understand the perplexity of his state of mind.
“What is wrong with me? The man is just a man and not a monster. He’s not going to eat me up alive. Why does this man’s sight take away my calm? My memory tells me that I have seen him before but even that’s too small a reason to make me bewildered.” Sharma thoughtfully interpreted the situation.
His wife tried to start a polite conversation with the same man as the train picked up speed leaving behind the station.
“So where are you going? Hariagunj?”
“Yes”
“Nice! We too are going there. Where do you live?”
“Hariagunj”
The conversation continued as the two of them (Sharma could suffice his bit by a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’) exchanged information about each other’s whereabouts. Rakesh Sharma by now was sure that he had rubbed shoulders with this man somewhere, sometime. After much talk the conversation ceased. Rakesh felt easy. The train moved as it made its way out of the town. Asha Sharma by nature was talkative. On the contrary, Rakesh Sharma preferred to be quiet. He had gone even quieter in this man’s presence. By now Asha Sharma had unearthed the basic details of this man. His name was Khalid Hussain who had an automobile store in Hariagunj. The name Khalid Hussain created ripples in Rakesh Sharma’s brain. This made him to realise that he had indeed been in his company for a number of hours a couple of years ago. The name had unravelled the puzzle. Slowly the information that was enclosed in his mind regarding this man came back.
He thoughtfully remembered,” Yes this name, Khalid Hussain is familiar. I remember meeting him once at Nandgopal’s. I can safely conclude that he is the same man. Not an inch of doubt here.”
His thought was broken when the train conductor appeared to check their tickets. The tickets were produced and duly attested by the conductor. Just as the conductor got up from the seat, his mobile phone started ringing. The ring tone sounded peculiar and unique. But for Rakesh Sharma it was a tone that he had heard before. After pressing the answer button the conductor walked away. Ripples had again started in Rakesh Sharma’s brain. This tiny incident had brought back all the memories associated with Khalid Hussain from the remotest corners of his brain.
His memory was now as active as a supercomputer. His encounter two years ago with Khalid Hussain was coming back fast and clear.
“Khalid Hussain…………..that ring tone……………hmmmmm………..Yes! That’s exactly why I am so shaken. That ring tone and probably the phone that the conductor had is the same as the one I robbed. Yeah! Now I remember very vividly it belonged to this man.”
Rakesh Sharma had been a man of principles. However, this had been one of those very rare moments of his life when his lust for a material possession had surpassed his morality. The mobile phone that he stole was a momentary pleasure. It had indeed arrested his attention. The graphics of the phone were truly awe-inspiring. To add to its splendour, it came with a load of melodious ring tones. It was the ring tones that made the phone stand out. The stylish and sleek get-up of the phone were worth appreciating. More interestingly, it was endowed with a television, a rarity in those days and even now. Rakesh Sharma had looked left, right and centre. “Nobody in sight! The phone is phenomenal. It’s a rare chance. Pinching it looks to be a great idea.” He had left his neighbour, Nandgopals’s house as soon as he lifted the phone. The fear of getting caught was apparent, then. When he came out of Nandgopal’s house all safe, the guilt of having done something out of the book grabbed him. He realised the vulgarity of his behaviour. “This is theft. I don’t steal things.” He stood in shame just metres away from Nandgopal’s house.
“I can still correct my mistake. I will get back to the house and place it where it had been.” Having decided to again embark on the path of moral honesty brought more joy than the sight of the phone.
“The door was open when I left. All I have to do is quietly enter, place it on the table and quietly get out of the place unannounced. There is no scope of getting caught.” He said it to himself. It had appeared an easy scheme. The very thought brought a sweet song to his lips as he neared the door.
He pushed it timidly. The door didn’t open. A second more sincere effort was equally futile. He realised that the door had been bolted from inside. Things were not going as planned. Khalid Hussain and Nandgopal had reassembled in the living room. They were casually conversing.
“So looks like Rakesh left without telling anyone.” Nandgopal guessed.
“Maybe he’s somewhere else in the house…in the bathroom.” Khalid speculated.
He had shouted out his name. The person whose name had been called out stood dumbstruck. He wondered that if he entered the house, chances of getting caught with the phone were bright. Ringing the bell would have certainly invited more troubles. He looked heavenwards and sought the Almighty’s help. “May the phone get back to the owner while I remain uncaught.” He patiently stood there hoping for a miracle to unfold, while he listened to the conversation inside.
“Let me just see if he’s anywhere around.” Said Nandgopal.
“Sure.” Khalid had approved.
“He’s nowhere. I checked the bathrooms as well.” Nandgopal had reported to Khalid Hussain.
“Hmmm……He may have gone back.” An amused Khalid had said.
Rakesh Sharma had stood outside in a dilemma. He had stressfully thought,” Shall I or shan’t I? How do I go in and give this phone back to its owner? It would be a shame when he would ask that how it had landed in my possession.”
It was then that the unthinkable had happened for Rakesh Sharma.
Khalid had said to Nandgopal: ”I can’t locate my phone. Have you seen it anywhere?”
When Rakesh Sharma had heard these words, he had gone still like a statue. He could not move his body but his ears had continued to function.
Inside the house, Khalid Hussain had searched the entire house. When he could not find it he was concerned as well as enraged.
“It’s my fault. I am known for losing things. Let me check again. Nandgopal, why don’t you also help me this time?”
Hence Khalid had begun searching for the second time with ‘I-wil-not-give-up-searching-unless-I-find-it’ mind-set. The result again had been the same. After an endless number of searches they had to finally give up. Khalid and Nandgopal were trying for the last time in the living room.
Khalid, furious by now had shouted:”I think there is only one possibility. It is stolen.”
Those words had wrapped up the day for Rakesh Sharma. The words had pierced his heart like a pin. As embarrassed as ever, he had quietly left the place. The next few days had brought him mental unrest. He had remorsed his act of stealing. However, he did not have the courage to face his neighbour, Nandgopal. Therefore to weigh down the burden of his sin, he had gifted the phone
Monday, May 19, 2008
Nature- A Human
If this nature is a human
Then the forests are its lungs
Nourishing every organism which are its organs
With air
The Oceans are its hearts
The rivers its arteries
The water its blood and life
The natural calamities with which it jolts us
is its immune system
protecting it from the humans who are the parasites
The environmental degradation that we cause are the diseases
it faces
With no medicine for it like us
Nature can fulfil our need not our greed
Unlike us it only gives does not take
Then the forests are its lungs
Nourishing every organism which are its organs
With air
The Oceans are its hearts
The rivers its arteries
The water its blood and life
The natural calamities with which it jolts us
is its immune system
protecting it from the humans who are the parasites
The environmental degradation that we cause are the diseases
it faces
With no medicine for it like us
Nature can fulfil our need not our greed
Unlike us it only gives does not take
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