Today was an especially hot
summer day (42 deg C/108 deg F) here in Chennai. I stepped out when the Sun was
at its peak to buy Nongu (palm’s fruit) from the vendor in the street
corner. The soft, squishy pulp of this fruit comes with just a spoonful of
sweet water that makes it absolutely delicious on such hot days. I parked my bicycle next to the vendor and
admired how oblivious he was of the heat that was engulfing him. He had no
walls, no awning, no chair. Nothing seemed to deter the speed at which he was
chiseling the fruit from its shell.
I saw a car pull in and a guy, in
his late 20’s, stepped out to buy from the same vendor. I noticed that I was
bothered by the fact that this guy didn’t turn off the engine. I knew that the
wait could be several minutes long, both for him and me. I considered many
options of how to respond to this situation and before long I blurted out to
the stranger, thankfully politely, “Hi! Can you please turn off your car?” In
utter disbelief the guy peered into his car and replied, “But there are people
inside the car!” I wanted to say that they won’t melt in the next few minutes,
but held my cynicism back and tried my best matter-of-fact tone to say, “That is
okay just for a few minutes, right? Your car is constantly spewing heat and heating an already-very-hot afternoon.”
I realized that I won’t be able to
continue the conversation without emotions playing in, and so decided to stay
quiet. The vendor was unaware of the drama unfolding in front of him, since we
were talking in English. I deliberately chose English over Tamil since,
unfortunately, the former commands more attention and respect in the
Tamil-speaking land.
Did I cross the social limits? My
heart was racing. I wanted to rush back home, Nongu or not. A minute
later, I saw the guy on the other side walk toward his car, open the door and
turn off the ignition! What did he just do? I felt relieved, surprised and grateful.
I started the conversation again – “Thank you! You are unique in the way you
responded. I am really sorry if I had hurt your feelings earlier.” He smiled. I
went on, after raking my brain a little – “You probably have heard about global
warming. I work on climate change and so things like this bother me. I am deeply concerned about the state of the Planet that our next generations will inhabit.”
Now, do I really “work on”
climate change? Maybe so, maybe no! I live every wakeful hour thinking about
global warming and planning my every step carefully to mitigate the effects of
my actions on this Planet. So, I do work on climate change. But I don’t
get paid to do any of this. So, maybe I don’t work on climate change!
He introduced himself as Karthik
and got interested in the topic since I am a researcher, according to him. He
said that he normally rides his bicycle to work and that he has heard about
carpool being implemented in other metropolitan cities in India. I guess he was
trying to tell me that he is a conscious consumer.
Now, how inconsequential is my
action? There are approximately 5000 new cars hitting the roads of India, every
single day. So, if I were to think that I have made a little difference by
talking about idling to one Karthik, I would simply be flattering myself. But
yet, inaction is not my choice; I will continue to act but not hope. Humility
is born from the awareness that one is insignificant in front of the colossal
dimension of global warming.
-- Hema
