Tread Softly on Earth

I read an article recently about how one can create a rural haven right smack in the middle of a modern city. The writer expounded the idea that humans need to be kinder and gentler to the environment and as an extension to our very mother planet herself. As I was reading it, one particular phrase caught my eyes …..“ tread softly on earth”.

It is an amazing phrase. Beautiful, powerful, soul-piercing; and it hit me like a tonne of bricks. ‘Tread softly on earth’? This got me thinking and reflecting for the rest of the afternoon on that day. It sounds like an oxymoron to say 'tread softly' and 'earth' in the same breath. Its such an antithesis to my life on this planet. Maybe yours too.

Do I ‘tread softly’ on earth or do I stomp, tramp and crush my path through this life? Am I one of those humans, as one of the talking-tree characters say in the Lord of The Rings “cutting, slashing , burning…”? Do I leave more than footprints and take away more than memories from this life giving planet?

I think I don’t tread softly. I am a brute who thinks of only my pleasure and comfort and only my time on earth. Damn what happens after that. Not my problem!. I leave a trail of destruction on my path and by the time my sojourn on this planet ends, I would have left behind a place far more worst than when I came into it. I would have left behind nothing but hurt, pain, devastation. That would be my legacy. Is this anyway to live? Is there any other way?

As I was contemplating this unsavory thought about me and my life on this planet, I instinctively remembered a gentle soul who once graced my world many years ago. My late grandmother. She was probably one who left this world a better place or at the least not one that was worst off. I remember her as a little sweet old lady who glides effortlessly from one chore to another. Constantly on the move; doing something or other. Her small frame and her frail demeanor can be misleading as she was a woman of great energy and strength. Yet, she was quite, soft and moved about her life in a gentle whisper. The only ‘noise’ that she would make is when she sits on the veranda every evening, with her legs resting flat on the cool floor while she pounds her beetle nut in a wooden bowl made by my late grandfather. She will do this until I return home after my game of football or a round of wild running and shouting in a nearby playing field. Most times, I will return home with cuts and bruises. She will look up slowly at me, and without saying a word she will get up and prepare some hot water for my bath. During these times, I knew that the more silent she was when I came home dirty and bleeding the more ‘punishment’ is awaiting me. True enough, once I have had my dinner and is just about getting ready to laze the evening away she will ask this one all powerful question : “ Aren’t you going to study now?” Regardless of my answer, she will begin a slow, deep and almost inaudible narration of my family ‘history’ and how my mother is sacrificing so much for my education. Over the years, I memorized her entire narration. Soon after talking about my mother, she will begin saying things about how much my aunt is helping to educate me. After that it will be about what kind of example am I setting for my younger sister. She will end this narration by her all powerful self-questioning : “Will I die knowing that you have turned out to be a good for nothing boy?”. With that final whisper from her, my evening would be totally and absolutely destroyed and I would drag my feet to my room. She was devastatingly effective in getting her message across. Gently. Ever so softly.

She had never shouted at me or at anybody else for that matter. She is not one who curses others but I distinctly remember her cursing quietly at those who drag their feet while walking as she considers that act as “ burdening mother earth”. My sister and I were not allowed to stomp around even in jest. She never steps onto the little plot of land in front of our house with her slippers on. That is not ‘polite to mother earth’ she would say. When she died, she was happy, comfortable, witnessed me going to the university ; one of her silent goals in life…quite amazing for a illiterate woman from a little village just out of Madras of the old days. I would like to think that she entered the world screaming and shouting but exited it quietly and softly and disappeared into the great realm of nothingness of what life essentially is. She treaded ever so softly on earth. At least that's what I witnessed until my early 20s when she passed on.

I am on the contrary, a terminator. Through out my days, I terminate what is beautiful and nice. From the moment I wake up till I crash on my bed late into the night, I destroy the beauty of this world. The things that I consume, use, throw, deplete are all designed to do one thing and one thing only : reduce the splendor of this world. I am a virus that spreads and multiplies and destroys this planet in every imaginable way. I chip away at nature slowly, steadily and with a quite vengeance and efficiency. When the day comes for me to say goodbye, I will have done more damage to this world than anything else that could have ever done. I am a master of destruction. I don’t add. I reduce. I eat away at the transcendent purity of this earth. I pollute the very essence of this planet. My greed and my insatiable desire for comfort have always won over the need to preserve and protect. I do not ‘tread softly’.

But, I compensate. I try not to justify.

I tread softly on the hearts of those who cross my path...I try. I attempt to connect with others on the fertile soil of kindness, honesty and fairness. I hope that at least will redeem my soul. My ancestors were farmers who respected and worshiped the earth that they treaded on. They put back much into life than what they took for themselves. I will never redeem my self in their eyes but at least I hope people will remember :

“Here lies a man who destroyed. Here lies a man who treaded softly on his kind”.

That, is the least I can ask for as I don't tread softly on earth like my sweet and gentle grandmother did.