Cry for Nature

It had been quite some time since I had read The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. So when I came across another title by the Lebanese poet, at a friend’s place, I asked if I could borrow it. The Storm turned out to be a modern translation of Gibran’s prose poems as well as a couple of short stories. Narrated in his distinct style – soaked in mysticism and lyricism – so many of his central themes reached out to me : like the essential isolation of the human condition, the shackles of organized religion, the hollow materialism of the world and so on. The one theme however that spoke to me with the greatest urgency was the beauty of Nature and its inevitable degradation by humans.

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Aurore, ‘The Dawn’ by Kahlil Gibran

‘ ” Sweet Brook,” I asked, “why do you mourn?”

“Because I go unwillingly toward the City”, it answered, “where Man will spurn me. Instead of me, he will drink the juice of the grape and use me to carry away his filth. How shall I not weep when soon my purity become foul?” ‘

– From ‘A Lamentation in the Field’

Recently back from a trek through the Niligiris, I could not but help obsessing over the muck and mess human habitation spawns all around it. Towns looking like an ugly heap of tin roofs, sewage drains spilling on roads, traffic forced to a stand-still by reckless parking, vehicles belching out black fumes despite ban on unclean fuel – I could go on…

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As we climbed higher into the hills, the air became purer and the surroundings cleaner. But then, we hardly saw any people around – slopes of tea plantations eventually gave way to forests and then to steep slippery narrow paths to the summit, known here as the Bakasura-malai. Why should one have to compromise on human company if one wishes to live amidst beautiful natural surroundings? How do other countries, societies manage to retain picture-postcard appearances despite having thriving communities?

I am aware these questions lead me deeper into issues of population, poverty, exploitation, corruption and many deeply inextricable civic matters. At this moment, however, I rue my limited time in this corner of paradise here and dread going back down to the madding crowds!

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What Michael Found In The Garage…

I feel a bit embarrassed to admit now but before the name was suggested by one of our book club members, I had never come across David Almond. The slender copy I decided to pick up was titled, intriguingly, Skellig. The book jacket informed me that it was the winner of the Whitbread Children’s Book of the Year as well as the Carnegie Medal and comforted by such assurances of its worth, I dived in.

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Skellig turned out to be a heart-warming story of the power of love and acceptance to bring about miracles. A lonely boy makes unusual friends in a new neighbourhood which eventually brings about more than one kind of blessing. It is also about how much humans can learn from Nature and how we are all part of the one universal soul that he beats within every heart.

The simple yet powerful theme is perfectly complemented by Arnold’s deeply symbolic style. One instance is his use of metaphors of birds and flying to unite his main characters and express the ability of love and innocence to lift an individual to a higher, more spiritual plane of existence. His sparse syntax and use of repetitions make his fiction read like a parable – almost Biblical, in fact.

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In times of increasing cynicism and hopelessness about human bonds and environment, Skellig reads like an affirmation of faith in a child’s ability to give and believe – values which can yet make the world a better place.

 

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On a day when I left chose a quiet drive into the mountains over shopping malls and city restaurants, this quote by John Muir said it all for me:

“Keep close to Nature’s heart and break clear, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean”

With worldly commitments, a week away would have been clearly impossible, but I did come away refreshed in soul and the smell of pines in my hair…

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