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Whispers Of Change
Arun and his father were on their small fishing boat, the salty air of the ocean surrounding them. Arun’s father stood up and pulled out a bountiful catch of fish, their scales glistering in the morning sunlight. “There’s a bottle stuck inside the net,” Arun said. His father took the plastic bottle out of the fishing net, and threw it into the ocean. Turning to his left, he saw a pod of whales. “Son, look at the whales,” he said, but Arun couldn’t see them splashing and spouting in the distance. Then, out of nowhere, a whale jumped out of the sea in front of their boat. For a fraction of a second, time stood still for Arun. Such a majestic creature, Arun thought.
The whale was the only thing on Arun’s mind as he and his father walked along the shoreline carrying fish. The whale had disappeared with a splash. Where could it be now? But the plastic bottles, bags, and other trash scattered around distracted him. Why does it always have to be messy around here? His eyes caught the sight of a sea turtle that mistook a plastic bag for food and was nibbling it. Acting swiftly, Arun reached down his hand and snatched the plastic away from it. “Why should it eat plastic?” Arun said, “Father, shouldn’t we do something about it?”
“They eat all kinds of junk. What can we do?”
“But you always say eating plastic isn’t healthy.”
“You’re right. I remember, a few years back, the government launched this thing about not using plastic bags anymore. But what did it do? Nothing!”
“People are too stubborn to change.”
Later, as Arun shared his experience with four of his friends sitting near a coconut tree on the sandy beach, they marvelled at him. “Can a huge whale just jump out of the sea like a small fish?” one of his friends said. But Arun was very concerned, having seen the turtle eat plastic earlier. His friend, sitting next to him, shrugged, blaming the littered beach on travellers.
“But are we any better?” Arun questioned.
As the calm waves doused the beach and the seabirds chirped, another of his friends said that an enormous wave should one day wash the beach clean. But, to Arun, it did not look like a good idea. Cleaning the land and littering the ocean would only harm the sea creatures instead. “Isn’t the ocean big?” his friend said, which hinted at his immaturity.
“So, what’s your plan?” another friend said.
“We’ll clean the beach,” Arun replied, his voice resonating with determination. His friends looked at each other with wide-open eyes, imagining the size of the task. “What? But we’re just kids,” his friend said, “and where should we put them?”
“I don’t know,” Arun admitted, “But at least animals won’t eat them if we gather them into one place.”
As they tirelessly collected all the trash, the sun rose higher in the sky, shortening their shadows with its golden rays. Arun’s father, returning from the market holding an empty bag and a watermelon on his right arm, caught the sight of a crow toying with a discarded piece of plastic. Swiftly moving his left foot, he scared it away. “Arun is right. This plastic thing is becoming a problem.” Then, he spotted his son and his friends on the beach and the pile of trash they had gathered — the testimony of their determination. Having seen the kids do hard work, he went home to cut the watermelon for them.
“What time is it?”
“Don’t know,” Arun said, “But it looks like the time we leave school on Saturdays.”
Arun’s father called out to him and his friends, showing them the watermelon pieces. The group turned, excited to see the treat. “It’s the fruit of our hard work,” one of Arun’s friends waxed emotional. The sweet juice of the watermelon quenched their thirst, refreshing their weary souls.
“You’ve earned this, kids.” Arun’s father expressed his thankfulness, “I’ll try to organise a group that'll clean the beach every weekend so that you kids may focus on school and don’t have to do this thing.”
“We’ll help you from time to time, uncle!” One of Arun’s friends said.
“I’ll help too!” Arun said.
“Sure, you’ll.” He patted Arun’s head.
Yet, amidst their joy, they heard a commotion coming not so far from here. “What happened now?” Arun’s father wondered, looking in the clamour’s direction. A person was coming from that way, so he asked if he knew what this fuss was about. “A dead whale has washed up ashore,” he said, surprising everyone with the news, especially Arun.
THE END
© Ayan Kumar Sarkar
The whale was the only thing on Arun’s mind as he and his father walked along the shoreline carrying fish. The whale had disappeared with a splash. Where could it be now? But the plastic bottles, bags, and other trash scattered around distracted him. Why does it always have to be messy around here? His eyes caught the sight of a sea turtle that mistook a plastic bag for food and was nibbling it. Acting swiftly, Arun reached down his hand and snatched the plastic away from it. “Why should it eat plastic?” Arun said, “Father, shouldn’t we do something about it?”
“They eat all kinds of junk. What can we do?”
“But you always say eating plastic isn’t healthy.”
“You’re right. I remember, a few years back, the government launched this thing about not using plastic bags anymore. But what did it do? Nothing!”
“People are too stubborn to change.”
Later, as Arun shared his experience with four of his friends sitting near a coconut tree on the sandy beach, they marvelled at him. “Can a huge whale just jump out of the sea like a small fish?” one of his friends said. But Arun was very concerned, having seen the turtle eat plastic earlier. His friend, sitting next to him, shrugged, blaming the littered beach on travellers.
“But are we any better?” Arun questioned.
As the calm waves doused the beach and the seabirds chirped, another of his friends said that an enormous wave should one day wash the beach clean. But, to Arun, it did not look like a good idea. Cleaning the land and littering the ocean would only harm the sea creatures instead. “Isn’t the ocean big?” his friend said, which hinted at his immaturity.
“So, what’s your plan?” another friend said.
“We’ll clean the beach,” Arun replied, his voice resonating with determination. His friends looked at each other with wide-open eyes, imagining the size of the task. “What? But we’re just kids,” his friend said, “and where should we put them?”
“I don’t know,” Arun admitted, “But at least animals won’t eat them if we gather them into one place.”
As they tirelessly collected all the trash, the sun rose higher in the sky, shortening their shadows with its golden rays. Arun’s father, returning from the market holding an empty bag and a watermelon on his right arm, caught the sight of a crow toying with a discarded piece of plastic. Swiftly moving his left foot, he scared it away. “Arun is right. This plastic thing is becoming a problem.” Then, he spotted his son and his friends on the beach and the pile of trash they had gathered — the testimony of their determination. Having seen the kids do hard work, he went home to cut the watermelon for them.
“What time is it?”
“Don’t know,” Arun said, “But it looks like the time we leave school on Saturdays.”
Arun’s father called out to him and his friends, showing them the watermelon pieces. The group turned, excited to see the treat. “It’s the fruit of our hard work,” one of Arun’s friends waxed emotional. The sweet juice of the watermelon quenched their thirst, refreshing their weary souls.
“You’ve earned this, kids.” Arun’s father expressed his thankfulness, “I’ll try to organise a group that'll clean the beach every weekend so that you kids may focus on school and don’t have to do this thing.”
“We’ll help you from time to time, uncle!” One of Arun’s friends said.
“I’ll help too!” Arun said.
“Sure, you’ll.” He patted Arun’s head.
Yet, amidst their joy, they heard a commotion coming not so far from here. “What happened now?” Arun’s father wondered, looking in the clamour’s direction. A person was coming from that way, so he asked if he knew what this fuss was about. “A dead whale has washed up ashore,” he said, surprising everyone with the news, especially Arun.
THE END
© Ayan Kumar Sarkar
