For a Clean Drop Of Water #PlanetOrPlastic

For a Clean Drop Of Water

"Nearly Done. Just a few more steps..." says Ira Masi (My Aunt)

She always is and always has been eternally optimistic. When my tribe had difficulty in finding fresh water to survive, she would look up towards the sky in hopes of fresh rain. But even she finally gave in, to the council's pressure and prepared to relocate. It was never easy to leave everything behind but when your survival is, in question you can do it all.

We are a tribe of losers, giving up is our hope midway!

After traveling for miles down the stream, when we found nothing, it was Ira Masi again who with her enthusiasm kept us going.

It was her idea that led us to change routes in any possible direction. But anywhere we went, we met with the familiar sight of the pollution infested water with plastic populating the pond much more than the other living creatures.

I, for one, would be much happier to see even some alligators floating around rather than the white synthetic substance. As we failed to relocate anywhere near our own home, it was Ira Masi, who decided that we should make our way to the Big O.

It seemed that our hopeless demeanor changed into enthusiasm again, as we all feel that it is impossible for any pollution to touch the Great O. It is the most sacred place on the planet. We believed that only by going there we would finally be saved.

With renewed enthusiasm, we again changed our course towards our Holy sanctuary that from now on would be our home.

On-route I heard so many tales about the Big O that has been passed down by our ancestors who once lived there. They had left the place with a sad heart as they were unable to defend themselves against the bigger animals roaming there.

Today, as we, the descendants, made our way back, all those tales and regrets of our grandfathers came back to us.

We reached there, late at night and was unable to sleep. No one wanted to miss the grand sight of the sanctuary that they have heard much about.

As the first rays of the sun made way, we stood there, shocked at an old yet familiar sight hitting us. The level of pollution has been cranked up a few hundred times here. Those dreaded mammals are all lying dead on the shores with plastic floating all around. Our Big O could not escape the evil clutches of plastic pollution.

Stranded there as I felt optimism leave Ira Masi forever, I saw a young human throwing another wrapper into the Ocean, even though there was a dustbin right there next to him with a large fish winking at him to feed it.

The planet is their only and we fishes are just a part of the food chain that is served up before them.

I smile, but for how long?