Skip to main content

Sunday Musings

Over the holi long weekend, I was in Ludhiana, my birth place. We were driving down a road, which I used to take while cycling to school. The road has now been widened, and is much better but the majestic eucalyptus trees, that shaded me in hot summer months, are now all gone. In the maddening rush for wide roads, huge number of trees are being chopped down, not just in Punjab, but in other states as well. It does not make me sad as that is what the countrymen want. Wide roads. Everyone wants that, and politicians too realize the need of their vote bank. Trees don't vote. Where once they grew from a sapling to a an adult tree, they are now just being seen as a road block, an eyesore.
And who will speak on their behalf? The moment you try to speak against this shameless atrocity you would be branded as an anti development, activist. As if speaking for a bunch of trees is such a huge sin. The felling of roadside trees also does not affect the NGO types as well, who have much larger jungles to protect. The governments do try, at least on paper to offset loss on environment, by claiming to plant new trees somewhere else. But does that really serve the purpose?

Think about the times when you were stuck in a traffic jam. How many times it was because of an irresponsible driver or shoddy roads? Just so that we like our own people so much that we don't find any fault in them, we slaughter the trees who won't react.

Here is to every tree that's being uprooted for the fancies of people demanding wider roads. R.I.P.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Also read

Cutting people off isn’t strength—It is a trauma response

Your ability to cut people off and self-isolate is not a skill you should be proud of—It is a trauma response Cutting people off and self-isolating may feel like a protective shield, but it is often rooted in unresolved or unhealed trauma and an inability to depend on others. While these behaviors seem like self-preservation, they end up reinforcing isolation and blocking meaningful connections. Confronting these patterns, seeking therapy, and nurturing supportive relationships can help break this unhealthy cycle. Plus, a simple act like planting a jasmine plant can symbolise the start of your journey towards emotional healing. Why do we cut people off and isolate? If you’re someone who prides themselves on “cutting people off” or keeping a tight circle, you might believe it’s a skill—a way to protect yourself from betrayal, hurt, or unnecessary drama. I get it. I’ve been there, too. But here’s the thing: this ability to isolate yourself is not as empowering as it may seem. In fact, i...
1 comment
Read more

Spill the Tea: Ira and the quiet exhaustion of being watched

Ira comes for tea and slowly reveals a life shaped by emotional surveillance. Loved, watched, and quietly evaluated by her parents, she lives under constant explanation. Through food, posture, and confession, she names the exhaustion of being known too well and finds nourishment not just in eating, but in finally being heard. Ira arrived  five minutes early and apologized for it. The way people do when they are used to taking responsibility for time itself. She said it lightly, as if time itself had offended her. She wore a white A-line shirtdress, clean and careful, the kind that looks chosen for comfort but ends up signaling restraint. When she sat down, she folded herself into the chair unconsciously. One leg rested on the floor, the other tucked underneath her, knees visible. It was not a pose meant to be seen. It slipped out before her body remembered how to protect itself. I noticed the brief softness of it, the quiet vulnerability, before she settled and forgot. I was still...
Post a Comment
Read more

Not Quite Dead Yet- Holly Jackson- A review

Is Not Quite Dead Yet all hype and no heart? A review of Holly Jackson’s thriller You pick up Not Quite Dead Yet expecting a clever, grown up thriller, but you are handed melodrama dressed as urgency. This long form review questions the hype, critiques its shallow characterisation, and asks whether a ticking clock can replace emotional depth, moral consequence, and believable storytelling. Why do you pick up a book that promises a woman will die in seven days? You know this feeling. You walk into a bookshop or scroll online, tired after a long day, and you want certainty. You want a hook that grabs you by the collar and says, “This will matter.” A countdown does exactly that. Seven days to live. A woman solving her own murder. The premise feels urgent, cinematic, and engineered to keep you turning pages even when your better judgement whispers otherwise. Publishing statistics support this instinct. According to data shared by The New York Times and NPR , thrillers with ...
Post a Comment
Read more