Written By Aditya Pundir
As summertime approaches, most families in Delhi are packing their bags to spend their summer holidays heading either to hill stations or perhaps somewhere more exotic. Being passionate about travelling and photography for the experiences they offer, I consider myself fortunate that my job requires regular travel across the country.
One of the greatest impacts this has had on me is to allow me to view life from different perspectives, thus enriching my experiences. Today, I would like to share two of those stories – one of great challenge, and the other of hope.
The Sundarbans are one of the largest deltas in the world,home to the majestic Royal Bengal Tiger, dense mangrove forests, and a rich diversity of birds and marine life. Mangroves are the guardians of our coastlines, acting as a natural shield against tsunamis and storms. The Sundarbans had been on my travel bucket list for a long time, and when I got the opportunity in 2018 to join my colleagues for a mangrove planting drive in the coastal region island of Kumirmari, I grabbed it with both hands.
We travelled for nearly three hours by boat to reach the island. Our local friends greeted us warmly, and we soon got to work planting mangrove saplings, followed by a hearty lunch of fish, prawns, rice, and local vegetables. We interacted with many of the islanders throughout the meal and afterwards. They shared stories of how telephones and solar lights had transformed their lives. Schools are functioning, children are studying hard with dreams of moving to Kolkata, while access to healthcare, especially for women, has improved. Amidst the laughter and jokes, however, I sensed there were hardships that they weren’t voicing. Perhaps deliberately choosing to spare us, their guests, from depressing conversations.
On our return journey in the evening, I noticed houses precariously perched on the edges of sandbars. Our guide pointed to one particular house where a woman sat quietly with her dog with the waters lapping close to her doorstep on three sides. It was only a matter of time before the house, her shelter, would be swallowed by the sea. This is the stark reality for many families we’d just met: the sea is rising every year, and floods are submerging mangroves, fields, and homes. The future for these communities is uncertain.
I was overwhelmed with sadness, but also admiration for their bravery, planting mangroves to defend their land and livelihood. Compared to their existential crisis, my own day-to-day challenges seemed very small.
My second story comes from Mussoorie, a beloved hill station in Uttarakhand. One of the greatest threats the hills face today is the onslaught of plastic waste, water bottles, wrappers, gutka pouches, plastic bags littered everywhere, marring the beauty and harming the environment.
To avoid the crowds and trash, I decided one evening to walk along Camel’s Back Road, a scenic, relatively less crowded stretch with beautiful vistas. Walking a little ahead of me was a group of young children, running around, laughing, and playing as children do. Each one carried an empty plastic water bottle. I assumed, with some disappointment, that these bottles would soon end up being tossed into the valley below, adding to the growing piles of waste.
But to my surprise, they didn’t throw them. They kept playing, still holding onto their bottles. After about 15 minutes, we came across a municipal dustbin. To my delight, the children marched over and deposited their bottles properly into the bin.
That simple act filled me with hope and happiness. If young children are being taught by their schools, parents, and communities to care for the environment, then there is hope for a better future for the planet.