Grey is my favourite colour. It’s a natural after effect of my existence.
I love soot and dust. It is my own way of feeling rooted to the earth, long after the fields and the trees have been mowed down to make way for concrete buildings and towers that touch the sky.
Long after the freshness has given way to stale, dry air that keeps getting recycled.
You crib about me, you grumble about how I have ruined your health, perforated your lungs. And yet you won’t have it any other way.
Would you give up what you have? Would you consume less so less needed to be produced? Would you be content to reuse what you had until it had most certainly outlived its use?
Nay, that is too much to ask. You are constantly discovering newer needs, which my votaries hasten to fulfill.
You long nostalgically for what once was. Your mourn about the pace of life, about the polluted, grimy city you live in, but what are you willing to do about it? Would you be willing to prune down your list of desires?
You mourn the state of affairs, wondering why the farmers must flock to the cities, and strain the already weary infrastructure. Do you realize how much you have contributed to the strain?
As your desires and needs burgeon, so do the factories that bring those desires to life. And then those who labour in those factories must have a place to stay, no matter how substandard and subhuman. Before you know it, the city has degenerated into a heartless, soulless place, where children eat out of bins and crime runs rampant.
It is not for you to decide which part of me you want. And which part to reject. I am a package deal. It is all or nothing.
I am doomed to grow and keep growing, until I suffer on account of that very growth.
Can you take a stand today?
I love soot and dust. It is my own way of feeling rooted to the earth, long after the fields and the trees have been mowed down to make way for concrete buildings and towers that touch the sky.
Long after the freshness has given way to stale, dry air that keeps getting recycled.
You crib about me, you grumble about how I have ruined your health, perforated your lungs. And yet you won’t have it any other way.
Would you give up what you have? Would you consume less so less needed to be produced? Would you be content to reuse what you had until it had most certainly outlived its use?
Nay, that is too much to ask. You are constantly discovering newer needs, which my votaries hasten to fulfill.
You long nostalgically for what once was. Your mourn about the pace of life, about the polluted, grimy city you live in, but what are you willing to do about it? Would you be willing to prune down your list of desires?
You mourn the state of affairs, wondering why the farmers must flock to the cities, and strain the already weary infrastructure. Do you realize how much you have contributed to the strain?
As your desires and needs burgeon, so do the factories that bring those desires to life. And then those who labour in those factories must have a place to stay, no matter how substandard and subhuman. Before you know it, the city has degenerated into a heartless, soulless place, where children eat out of bins and crime runs rampant.
It is not for you to decide which part of me you want. And which part to reject. I am a package deal. It is all or nothing.
I am doomed to grow and keep growing, until I suffer on account of that very growth.
Can you take a stand today?
I once asked a friend in mumbai why the sky didn't look blue. Without batting an eyelid he said, there are too many people here; the blue gets used up. That sums it up for me. :(
ReplyDeleteUncontrolled & unplanned urbanization is the problem. There are several cities in the world which are beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI am so blessed to live in one of the most beautiful cities of the world here in Wellington, NZ. It's like living in the lush countryside right in the city. But saying that Mumbai is my hometown and I feel it's soul each time I'm there. I guess I don't see the grey and the drab, I feel it's warm and vibrant soul.
ReplyDelete