Roots and Ruins.
From the age of nine, I started living near a forest located on the other side of the road. The forest was not very dense, and there weren’t many people around when we first moved here. We bought a piece of land and built our home on it. Summers never felt too hot, and I grew fond of nature by the time I was fourteen. Every Sunday, I would wake up at five o’clock in the morning and go to the roof to take a walk, pacing from one side to the other. While walking, I would memorize words or study authors' dates of birth, places they were born, and books they had written. Every morning, my attention was drawn to pigeons, sparrows, and other birds. Some birds had a blue tail and a black face, but I didn’t know the names of some of the others. I often found myself admiring the beauty of God’s creation—their attractive features, soothing voices, and the sense of peace they gave me simply by watching them. Though the people around me weren’t great, the presence of nature always made me feel grateful for my home. It never let me say a bad word about it.
On the other side of the road, there was a forest—a lush haven of greenery that seemed like nature’s masterpiece. Whenever I looked at it from my roof, it brought a sense of relaxation to my eyes, as though the world paused for a moment to let me breathe. In the mornings, the symphony of the forest would come alive with the call of a peacock. Its voice, rich and hauntingly beautiful, felt like a song of gratitude from the heart of nature. Those moments felt magical, as if the world was perfectly in balance. But then, about three or perhaps two years ago, something changed—a sight that shook me to my core. I noticed deforestation taking place. Giant machines rolled in, their bulldozers tearing through the trees with brute force, while my heart sank. I couldn’t understand why this was happening. Why would anyone want to destroy something so beautiful, so alive? Yet, I lacked the courage to ask the people who were cutting down the trees. The love of my life—the peace that calmed my soul and the joy that greeted me every morning—was being destroyed right before my eyes.
Days turned into weeks, and the forest that had stood tall for years disappeared. In its place, homes were built, possibly DDA flats or something similar. The vibrant, breathing forest was replaced with lifeless concrete, and I found myself struggling to accept the change. I’ve avoided visiting the area since then because it’s too painful. Even from a distance, it felt like I had lost a part of myself. Sometimes, I find myself wondering: why there? Who will live there? Did they truly understand what they’ve taken away? Since then, everything has changed. The air feels emptier, quieter, as if nature itself is in mourning. There are no sparrows flitting about, no other birds singing their morning hymns, and the enchanting call of the peacock is no longer there to greet the dawn. I often think about the problems we’re facing now—rising temperatures, unpredictable weather, and diminishing peace. It’s clear that disturbing nature comes at a cost, yet it feels like many of us are unwilling to acknowledge that reality.
Now, there’s only one tree left in front of my home, standing tall and resilient like a silent guardian. Every time I look at it, no matter the season, it brings me a sense of peace and solace. That tree reminds me of what was lost and teaches me to hold on to what remains. Sometimes, I find myself staring at it for long moments, wondering what stories it would tell if it could speak. But even as I reflect on the loss, I hold on to hope. Perhaps if we all take small steps—planting trees, protecting what’s left, and embracing the beauty of the natural world—we can still create a future where nature and development can coexist in harmony. It may seem like a small dream, but sometimes small dreams can lead to great change.
The connection I feel with nature goes beyond mere admiration; it is a bond formed through years of experiencing its beauty and tranquility. But witnessing its destruction has left me with an ache that’s difficult to express. The forest near my home that once stood as a sanctuary for countless birds and wildlife was replaced with concrete structures in the name of development. This memory often reminds me of the growing threat to nature as humanity continues to exploit it recklessly.
The issue of deforestation is not confined to my experience—it is a crisis unfolding across the world. Take, for instance, the alarming events in Hyderabad, where a 400-acre forest, housing 455 species of flora and fauna, faced the threat of destruction. The Telangana government proposed selling the land to the IT department, an act that could severely impact biodiversity and accelerate climate change. The urgency of the matter led to protests, with students of the University of Hyderabad raising their voices against this move since March 31. Unfortunately, videos surfaced showing peaceful protesters being met with police brutality, a tragic display of resistance against nature’s defenders.
In response, the Supreme Court has taken a firm stance against the illegal deforestation. Strict warnings have been issued to the Telangana Chief Secretary, with Justice B.R. Gavai highlighting that contempt charges and temporary imprisonment could follow if the orders to halt deforestation are ignored. The court is adamant about preventing further ecological damage, and the next hearing on April 16, 2025, will consider the Central Empowered Committee’s report alongside the Chief Secretary’s response. As I reflect on these developments, the lone tree standing in front of my home becomes a symbol of both resilience and fragility. It reminds me of what nature has to offer and the heavy cost of losing it. Protecting our forests is not just about preserving beauty—it’s about safeguarding life itself, for us and for generations to come. The Hyderabad case is a call to action for everyone to rethink our approach to development and recognize the value of sustainable practices.
Our planet thrives because of nature, but we are pushing it to the brink. Forests are not just trees—they are homes to countless species, guardians of biodiversity, and our allies in combating climate change. When we exploit them in the name of progress, we sacrifice our connection to peace, beauty, and life itself. The destruction of nature comes with irreversible consequences for us and future generations. It’s time we recognize that sustainable development is the only path forward. Every voice matters, and every small action counts. Whether it’s planting a tree, advocating for forest conservation, or standing up against deforestation, we all have a role to play. Let’s protect what remains and restore what’s lost—not just for the forests but for the world they keep alive. Nature is a gift; let’s ensure we don’t let it slip away.
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