It was another lazy evening. I was sitting in the balcony at my home, with my mind wandering
from Biriyani to Donald Trump. Outside, the sun had started its journey down, the birds were
roosting and I had nothing to do.
Our balcony overlooked a patch of greenery, which had plantations of banana and arecanut. I stared at it for long and then suddenly had an urge to forage into the plantation. I got out of the chair and started walking. I was alone and I was taking a path I had not taken for years. As I walked into the plantation, it grew thicker. The bushes got taller and there was less visibility. The bees were buzzing around and the butterflies fluttered their wings as they flew past me. It was beautiful.
As always, the butterflies fascinated me and as always, I tried to observe them closely. I found one, perched on one of the leaves. I went close to it, but it did not fly. Though it was alive, it hardly moved. It was surprising. I stood there for a while with silence all around. Then, I noticed something. It was trying to tell me something. Yes, it was trying to tell me something. I kneeled down and listened. It started narrating a story.
“When I was a larva, I ate only leaves. All I did was crawling from leaf to leaf eating them. That is what I was supposed to do. But I wanted to fly as the elders did. I wanted those beautiful wings, to be free and roam wherever I want and drink all the kinds of nectar. I eagerly waited to get my wings and was looking forward to my flying days.
The day arrived. I flew away. As I enjoyed the warmth of the sun, I hopped from flower to flower, drinking the nectar. The nectar tasted different on each flower. I wanted to do this for days. I continued flying, with the birds and the bees. I have to say, the hives of bees were stunning, so were the nests of birds.
I continued flying, even without them. I reached a place with a lot of flowers, but surprisingly no butterflies or bees. I thought I had found a new land that none ever did. I was buzzing to share this tale of adventure and discovery. With all the excitement, I perched on one of the flowers.
But before I could feed, I saw something sickening. It was the bodies of dead bees and
butterflies. My heart sank and wings were heavy.
Then I saw one of you and realized it was the evil rain. I have heard stories of you coming with the evil rain, how it killed all of us and that we should not feed on that nectar. I trembled. I flew back with all the energy I could gather, but my wings got weaker. I landed here and cannot fly anymore.
You took our home, destroyed the flowers, and now you are poisoning whatever is left. Why?”
It stopped talking. I stood still, with a load of guilt I never thought a butterfly could keep on me. It grew dark around me, so did my thoughts. The sun turned crimson red and was setting down the west. I walked back with a heavy heart dragging with me a new set of thoughts.
I reached home and collapsed on the sofa. My loving mother brought me a plate of cut fruits. I gave her a smile, looked at the fruits and ate it but with a pinch of guilt. The thoughts lingered, contemplating on why we use pesticides and how not to waste food with my amateur knowledge. As always, I managed to shelve it somewhere in the dark corner of my brain with many other thoughts left into oblivion. But deep inside, I am a bit scared because I may have put the thought to rest, but their ghosts might haunt me, and maybe others too.
Comments