My earliest memory is deeply ingrained within a harmonious balance between humans and land.
I was the bearer of arid lands, pristine oceans and verdant trees. The humans who called my soil home, treated me with unwavering reverence, only taking what they needed. Life was straightforward- I would provide food for these humans, and in return, they would tend to my health.
I was gratified.
It turned out that these people weren’t the only ones interested in everything I had to provide. There were foreigners on other lands formulating plans to use me as well. I was thrilled to see what these people had to provide, perhaps they would treat me wondrously as well — I was wrong.
Over time, from the gentle footsteps of children, it turned into ponderous trampling of boots. I was introduced to new species of animals that preyed on the native faunas. There were new cultures and languages that depleted the existence of the original ones. The old people passed away and the new ones replaced them with an ease which life shifts into gracefully. Mothers who would tell their children stories about my ancient mysteries, ended up crying themselves to sleep; with no-one to provide them comfort.
I was progressing as a city, with a new purpose, yet I carried the weight of a lost past that made me nostalgic for the bygone era.
Gradually, the foreigners turned into residents. By acclaiming me to be their home, they started working in balance. My land once again got into rhythm with the pulsating vibes of those who made me alive. I felt rushed but I tried to cope up.
With time, humans demanded for more. They mined my mountains, polluted my oceans and burnt down all the arrays of verdant trees. With lofty structures, four-wheeled machines and digital technology, they took more and more.
I’m quite pleased to see these people progress phenomenally with my aid, but at the same time I’m worn down with exhaustion and pain.
I’m happy to see every child wake up in the morning from a comfortable bedroom. I’m exuberant to see adults finding convenience in travel. I’m gleeful to see parents and children communicating from different countries through a miniscule mechanical device. But, while saying this I do hope that with time, someone will take a minute to contemplate upon my convenience as well.
I want to continue to contribute towards this progressing society, but I need good health and strength to do so.
Therefore, here I lie- hearing the stories of mothers, holding the weight of structures, and providing picturesque illustrations for humans to capture.
In the beginning, I provided for humans who did their best to maintain my health. They sang around my trees, nurtured the wild and made me resonate with their happiness. But today, I sit here- a progressive city- burdened by the pace of humanity.
The steps of my children elate me less and tire me more, their experiments benefit only certain areas and cause more widespread injuries. Therefore, if these children of my soil begin treating me with a bit more reverence, then perhaps I will continue to nurture them for a long time to come. That is all a progressive city wants.
Writer: Aarna Sharma
Grade : 8 (Year 2025)
Place : Sydney, Australia
