By Sunita Vijay
“Man is the most insane species. He worships an invisible God and destroys the visible nature, unaware that this nature is the God he is worshipping.” – Hubert Reeves
The fragile, youngest mountain ranges on Earth are crying for help, but humanity remains deaf and blind. Driven by greed and self-indulgence, we ignore the fury of nature, even as it manifests in devastating calamities. The day may not be far when nature, in all its might, reclaims its lost glory and shuts its doors on the inhuman humans.
As a child learning about climate change in school, I wondered how it would feel to witness such a crisis. Now, we are living through it. The temperament of nature is visibly changing, and while humans have proven their capacity to adapt, this time it’s different. Change is inevitable, but resilience shouldn’t come at the cost of recklessness. Humans have achieved the extraordinary. Technologically and physically, we’ve made the impossible plausible. I recently read about Nirmal ‘Nimsdai’ Purja, the Nepali mountaineer who climbed all 14 peaks above 8,000 metres in just 6 months and 6 days, breaking the previous record of nearly 8 years. His achievement is a testament to human endurance and determination.
Indeed, it is in our nature to explore, conquer, and innovate. We’ve tamed rivers, carved tunnels through solid rock, scaled the highest peaks, travelled to the moon, and touched the soil of Mars. We’ve mapped the genome, cloned life, built underwater trains and even begun editing DNA. And yet, we still cannot control the tides of emotion or create a single human life from scratch. We remain minuscule in the face of nature’s magnitude. What takes us years to build, nature can undo in seconds, especially when our intentions are laced with hubris.
We send messages at the speed of light, yet nature still travels faster in her retribution. We construct the sturdiest of dams, but when nature runs free, no wall can stop her. While we strive for longer, healthier lives, we must ask: Are we doing enough to preserve the world we live in? Are we teaching our children how to live in harmony with the Earth? How to be responsible residents of this planet? How to let nature flow, unburdened by human interference? While researchers attempt to create artificial human DNA, perhaps the better question is: Have we even mastered how to be good humans?
Our unchecked interference has accelerated climate change, global warming, and natural disasters. Om Parvat in Uttarakhand was recently reported to be snowless for the first time in recorded history. Himalayan glaciers have lost a third of their ice in just over 30 years and could lose up to 75% by 2100. EF Schumacher, renowned economist and author of “Small is Beautiful”, has famously said, “Modern man talks of a battle with nature, forgetting that if he won the battle, he would find himself on the losing side!”. Yes, observation and innovation are crucial, but what is the point if, in the name of development, we are stripping away the human element and rendering Earth uninhabitable? We call it Mother Earth. And if the mother, a life- giver, falls ill, all life here will perish. Uttarakhand, long considered the abode of the gods, was once serene, pristine, and spiritually rich – home to the mighty Himalayas and sacred rivers. It was a place for seekers, far from the chaos of the world, where one could connect with nature and the inner self. Even the pilgrimages to Badrinath, Kedarnath, Gangotri, and Yamunotri were designed to be arduous, intentionally hidden from the masses, meant for the truly devoted.
But we have disturbed this sacred landscape. We’ve blasted rocks, redirected rivers, and flooded the region with vehicular and helicopter traffic. The heat, noise, vibrations, and construction have disrupted the youngest mountain range still information. Nature is now striking back. It is not a mere coincidence. It is a warning. Nature is sending a strong signal to reclaim what once was hers – to flush out what does not belong.
Uttarakhand is worth exploring, but mindfully. Tourists must become stewards, not exploiters. Our hearts long for the rivers, the snow-clad peaks, and the serenity of forests alive with birds and animals, but are we ensuring that this beauty remains for future generations? Or are we leaving behind a trail of garbage, pollution, and fear; of floods, wildfires, and water scarcity? Every inch of Uttarakhand is being commercialised, desecrated by concrete and litter. Dev Bhumi is now instead an abode for unregulated tourism, rampant hotel constructions along precarious cliffs, blocked water channels, loosened soil and destabilised slopes. It needs time to heal, in silence and seclusion, just like a wounded body. Some areas must be closed to human intervention.
The first step towards any correction is acceptance. We must start by acknowledging our follies and understanding that the disasters we are witnessing are not anomalies. They are consequences. If this continues, the Himalayas may suffer irreversible damage, putting millions of lives, biodiversity, and water resources at unimaginable risk. Strict environmental regulations and sustainable practices ought to be norm in the Himalayan states which cannot be treated like the rest of India. They demand a different approach. These mountains are not spaces for mindless development or luxury homes. They are sacred. They are alive. Let us not encroach on the abodes of the divine. Let us not build over riverbeds or flatten forests. Spiritual journeys were once meant to be taken on foot – for good reason. We need to return to that ethos. Let us invest in minimal, climate-resilient infrastructure. Let us protect receding forests, retreating glaciers, and silting rivers.
Let us honour the spiritual legacy of the Himalayas rather than bury it under the weight of commercialisation. And most importantly, let us stop being patients of denial seeking refuge behind and attributing blame to “cloudbursts” or “torrential rains” and start owning up. If we can proudly claim our triumphs, we must also own our failings.
My heart bleeds at the plight of these majestic mountains. The Himalayas, a name that inspires awe across the world, are crumbling. If we don’t act now, a day will come when the Himalayas collapse. Nature will start over. The cycle will begin again.
But by then, it will be too late.
