“What we are doing to the forests of the world is but a mirror reflection of what we are
doing to ourselves and to one another.” -Chris Maser
I close my eyes and imagine the old banyan tree outside my window sending me a bill. Oxygen supplied-unpaid; shade during blistering summer-unpaid; a shelter from rain- unpaid. And in that moment, I feel a lump in my throat, because this bill is not just about money-it’s about life.
In cities like Delhi and Ahmedabad, we lose ourselves in the concrete maze, but we forget that trees once whispered to us in the breeze. Today, Delhi swelters under a relentless sun -temperatures crossing 45°C-while we sit in air-conditioned rooms, disconnected from the cause. This is not just a statistic; it’s a child sweating in school, a worker fainting on the street, a family trapped in a city that forgot its roots.
In Mumbai, mangroves stand like quiet guardians against storms. When Cyclone Tauktae hit in 2021, we saw how mangroves softened the blow-lives were saved. Yet we still tear them down for malls and roads, forgetting that we are paying with something far greater than rupees.
I think of a girl, just like me, who once ran through the shade of these trees. Now, she sees fewer branches overhead, fewer birds calling out in the morning. And when I breathe, sometimes I feel like I’m paying for every missing leaf.
We often forget, but every tree is a promise-an unspoken promise that we, too, will be protected. And every tree we lose is a future we gamble with.
Before we get a bill we can’t afford, we need to wake up. Trees don’t ask for payment in coins; they ask for respect, for care, and for a chance to keep their promise alive.
