Dust to dust and more

We had a short trip to the high ranges but had to return early because of a family member’s demise. Though it lasted just around 24 hours, something in that brief time refreshed our souls. Yes, there were friends who opened their home to us, and that certainly added to the experience. 

But the mountains, the forests, the cardamom plantations, the myriad birds, and the smell of wet soil had a calming effect on the soul.

I wonder why nature refreshes us so deeply. 

While we were there, we received the message of a family member’s passing — young in age too. The thought that came to my mind was this: all it takes is one moment to return to the earth from which we originally come.

Is it this original connection to nature and creation that refreshes our souls? One of the mystic writers calls trees and mountains our brothers and sisters. I am not being heretical or assigning divinity to creation. But we cannot deny the reality of the deep connection all creation shares with humanity. We need them — they may not need us.

Even in high‑rises, people create small terrace and balcony gardens, seeking that indescribable comfort only living plants seem to offer.

Yet the conversations around us were about land and productivity: labour costs, exploitation of workers, corporate takeover of plantations, wage differences between local and immigrant labour (immigrants being paid less), gender disparities, red tape, and many such issues.

A micro‑picture of macro‑conversations. Corporate takeover of pristine mountains through state handouts. Suppression of opposing voices. Even the judiciary not supporting activists — because economic development is the bottom line.

A close friend, a highly educated person, recently said that climate change is fake information. He questions all discussions on nature preservation. This is not uncommon these days, even among educated and knowledgeable people.

Of course, politicians find this a convenient way to make a fast buck — both the climate‑change supporters and the corporate‑handover experts.

As we were travelling for the funeral of our relative, I couldn’t push away these thoughts. We are here today and gone tomorrow. What do we leave for the next generation?

What I will remember of the one we lost is her love for life, her love for people, and her joy amid a life‑limiting illness.

All around us we are told that we should leave behind a booming economy — if such a thing even exists.

But what about a creation they can coexist with and enjoy? What about memories of life‑giving engagements with each other and with creation?

Whatever perspective one holds, we cannot brush aside our interdependence with nature. Even if you disagree, just feel a cool breeze and ask yourself why you feel better.

Creation is the Creator’s gift to us. Will our generation nurture and help it flourish, or destroy it for economic endpoints?

I am reminded of the Ents’ march on Isengard in The Lord of the Rings. These ancient tree‑shepherds, led by Treebeard, embody Tolkien’s deep reverence for the natural world. When Saruman’s industrial greed devastates Fangorn Forest, the Ents awaken from their long patience and storm Isengard, tearing down the machinery that poisoned their woods. Their uprising is ecological justice in mythic form — slow, deliberate, and unstoppable once roused. 

Should I wait for such uprisings from nature? Or perhaps I can do something today. Something life giving for others and nature.

A question to grapple with: Dust to dust shall I return — but what will I leave for the next generation.