By Roli Shukla
I often find myself pausing to reflect on what it means to look up at the night sky today. It is no longer just a silent, distant expanse of stars—it feels alive with human effort, courage, and hope. My heart fills with pride and admiration when I think about the resilience, persistence, and dedication of scientists, astronauts and visionaries across the world, including those from my own country, who dare to believe in a future beyond our planet. In a time when the world often feels weighed down by conflict and uncertainty, space exploration stands out to me as one of the few endeavours that unites us in purpose.
These emotions grow even stronger for me with missions like Artemis II. When I read the words inspired by astronauts aboard the Orion spacecraft— “Even in darkness, we glow!”—I feel a quiet but powerful sense of hope. It reminds me that even in the vast emptiness of space, there is light, and that light is human; that light is earthly. It comes from our curiosity, our courage, and our determination to move forward despite all odds.
The historic journey of Artemis II that began on 1 April 2026, with four astronauts—one Canadian and three Americans—venturing toward the Moon, struck me as more than just a scientific milestone. As I imagined them reaching the far side of the Moon and witnessing it with their own eyes, I realised that this moment that has never happened ever before in human history did not belong to one nation alone. It belonged to all of us. It was a shared human aspiration and achievement, a collective step forward for humanity. I felt gratitude to those four astronauts for taking the risk and carrying the message of humanity in space. Throughout the human history on Planet Earth ancient texts like Vedas and Upanishads and mythologies of other civilisations around the world have wondered and studied deeply about outer space and all the celestial bodies.
What moved me even more deeply were the reflections that emerged from such missions as Artemis II. The thought expressed, after seeing photos sent by the astronauts- “whether awake or dreaming, we are all here on this planet together” stayed with me. From space, there are no borders, no divisions—just one Earth. Fragile and interconnected. It made me question how we, as a species, choose to behave—not just on Earth, but as we begin to explore beyond it.
For a long time, human explorations on Planet Earth have been tied to ideas of conquest and control. We have historically measured success by how much land we claimed or how many resources we acquired. But as I think about space, I feel strongly that this mindset must change. Space is not something to conquer. It is something to understand. Exploring space means asking questions, not staking claims. It means observing, learning, and growing. It is about humility—recognising how small we are in the vastness of the universe, and yet how remarkable our capacity to explore truly is. I believe deeply that space should never become another arena for competition and ownership. Instead, it should remain a place where humanity comes together to learn.
This idea is not new. The principle that outer space is the “province of all mankind” has been recognised in international agreements like the Outer Space Treaty. When I first came across this idea, it resonated with me immediately. It suggests that space belongs to no single nation or entity—it belongs to all of us, equally.
Yet, I cannot ignore the challenges that come with this vision. As technology advances and more nations and private companies enter the space arena, the temptation to claim, control, or exploit becomes stronger. I often wonder: will we carry our divisions into space? Will we repeat the mistakes we have made on Earth?
These questions feel especially urgent in a world already marked by conflicts, power struggles, and competing ideologies. Against this backdrop, space exploration offers us a rare opportunity—a chance to choose a different path. It allows us to redefine what progress means. Progress in space is not just about building more advanced spacecraft or reaching farther destinations. It is about how we conduct ourselves along the way. It is about whether we can work together, respect one another, and act responsibly.
The mission of Artemis II, led by NASA in collaboration with international partners like the Canadian Space Agency, represents this spirit of cooperation. It shows that space exploration is not a solitary pursuit—it is a collective endeavour that requires trust, coordination, and shared vision. We have rejoiced and taken pride in the achievements of our own astronaut Group Captain Shukla when he was a part of the crew that visited the International Space Station just a few months ago. What I find particularly inspiring is that such missions bring together people from different countries, cultures, and backgrounds, all working toward a common goal. It reminds me that, at our core, we are capable of unity. When faced with the vastness of space, our differences seem small, almost insignificant.
At the same time, I believe that space exploration is not just an outward journey—it is also an inward one. As we venture into the unknown, we are also exploring our own potential. We are discovering what we are capable of when we dare to dream, when we push boundaries, and when we refuse to give up. This journey demands more than physical strength or technical skills. It requires courage of a deeper kind—the courage to face uncertainty, to take risks, and to trust in something larger than us. It also requires imagination. Without imagination, there would be no vision of reaching the Moon, no desire to explore Mars, no belief in a future beyond Earth.
Blending scientific rigour with imaginative thinking is, in my view, one of the most powerful aspects of space exploration. It allows us to innovate, solve problems, and to envision possibilities that once seemed impossible. But this creativity must be guided by values—values like responsibility, humility, and cooperation.
I am both excited and cautious about the future of space exploration. The return to the Moon through Artemis II offers a renewed sense of possibility. It signals that humanity is ready to take the next steps in its journey. But it also raises important questions. The most important question, for me, is not whether we can go back to the Moon. Clearly, we can. The real question is how we choose to behave when we get there. Will we approach space with the same mindset that has led to conflict and exploitation on Earth? Or will we learn from our past and choose a different way forward? We have a responsibility to choose wisely. Space is too important, too vast, and too full of potential to be reduced to another battleground. It should remain a place of learning, discovery, and shared purposes.
This means ensuring that the benefits of space exploration are accessible to all humanity. It means using the knowledge and technologies we develop to improve life on Earth—to address challenges like climate change, resource scarcity, and global inequality. It also means protecting the environments we encounter in space, respecting their integrity, and avoiding harm.
In many ways, space exploration acts as a mirror. It reflects back to us who we are and what we value. When we look at Earth from space, we see not just a planet, but a shared home and a shared history. We see the interconnectedness of all life, also think about the numerous conflicts. If we truly understand this perspective, perhaps we can begin to act differently.
As I continue to be awed by missions like Artemis II, I do so not just with excitement, but with reflection. I think about the astronauts who carry our collective hopes into space with different undertakings. I think about the scientists and engineers who work tirelessly behind the scenes. And I think about the kind of future we are building. I want that future to be one where space remains a symbol of unity rather than division. A place where we come together, not to compete, but to collaborate. A place where we learn, not just about the universe, but about ourselves.
Because in the end, space is not just about reaching new worlds. It is about becoming better stewards of the one we already have. It is about realising that despite our differences, we share a common destiny. And perhaps that is the most powerful lesson of all: that in the vastness of space, we are not separate—we are one. I close my thoughts with this powerful shloka from Chhandogya Upanishad “सर्वं खल्विदं ब्रह्म नेह नानास्ति किंचन” which means that “The entire universe is truly Brahman; there is no difference or duality (multiplicity) whatsoever here.” It makes so much sense. Hail Artemis II Mission!
(Roli Shukla is an Author and Educator based in Thane, Maharashtra.)
