How the wilderness howls

Recently I came across a not-so-well-known magazine — at least I had notseen a copy of it until I happened to have come across some old issues of it being sold on the pavements of Delhi’s Daryaganj — which carried an article on the linear relationship between the natural environment and people’s well-being. A recent survey done in UK showed that although only 20 per cent of people live in the country, more than half the population aspires to live there. Furthermore, while only one in five urban dwellers are content with city life, 89 per cent of the rural population say that they enjoy life where they are — amidst rural environs.

Answering the call of the wild in our overcrowded metropolises is more ofa pleasant dream than a reality. Citizens flout not only manmade laws but also those of God. Right from eating the forbidden fruit of knowledge, man seems bent on ensuring that nothing grows in the garden. The mercenaries convert every bit of space available, every patch of green, into commercial units.

Although the awareness of what is being lost in the process is now growing, very little has as yet been done to correct the balance, even with devastation staring us in the face. A sincere effort has to be made, not only to protect the remaining green areas but also re-establish the natural system.

I remember that a visit to a neighbouring state just a decade ago meantfrolicking in green pastures and plucking and eating fruits and berries which are unheard of today. The trees, which have now disappeared, were called kerrie trees, bore berry-like fruits which tasted bitter when eaten raw but made a delicious pickle nevertheless. Once they were allowed to ripen, they changed colour and became a bright cherry red and also tasted like cherries.

But one of the favourites amongst us children used to be a fruit called the akil, which used to grow on trees called the jaal. The connoisseur would, perhaps, have disdained these fruits, yet they were fresh and reeked of innocence rather than the sophistication of apples and cherries packed in attractive cartons.

The ecological clock has to be turned back if human beings wish to continuing being a part of the web of life. This also means that the exploitative commercialisation of our green resources, this constant replacement of natural environs with concrete with plastic must end.

Look at the way we manage our national parks and sanctuaries. They are deteriorating rapidly thanks to changes in agricultural and forestry practices. Designated as natural zones, they have lost their preeminent status today. Take a look at a sanctuary like the Rajaji National Park near Dehra Dun and you will perceive the extent to which we have allowed deterioration to set in.

The scales should be tipped in favour of nature so that the balance betweenthe natural and the man-made may be restored. It is only when nature regenerates itself will human beings discover their own tranquillity once again.