<p>In November-December 2015, Chennai witnessed heavy rainfall. The city was flooded. 500 people died and 1.8 million others were displaced. A homemaker documented her initial experience. The first object that was affected, she said, was the set-top boxes. They usually malfunction in mild rainfall. Here, in a deluge, they stopped working altogether. Suddenly there was no access to television. The next to go off was electricity. The phones ran out of charge. We could not call anyone, she said. All numbers were on the phone. So we lost connectivity and communication. Since there was no electricity, the internet wouldn’t work. That meant no access to web-based emergency services and no access to ATMs. Therefore no cash could be withdrawn.</p>.<p>In the end, she listed four things that were of help. Battery operated radio sets for information. Landlines — wherever they were operational, (and they were mostly so, apparently) which helped call family and friends. Thirdly, hard cash — whatever was at home and available. Small change became of huge value. And lastly, being and having good neighbours.</p>.<p>Our planet is in distress. Various reports suggest that in the past thirty years, we have used up about 40 percent of the earth’s resources. Nature, with its incredible power to regenerate, is not able to keep up with our pace of consumption. We are hurtling towards hardship. On average, 20 million people are facing displacement every year, while life forms are dwindling from increased flooding, drought, wildfires and other extreme weather events, caused by climate change. New terms have come into use. Eco-anxiety. Climate depression. Eco-guilt. Ecological grief. Ecopsychology. The state of our planet is enmeshed in the state of our minds. Our minds, in turn, are force-riding the speed of our tools. As a species designed to move, we are sedentary through most of the day, locked to our screens, with our minds racing, feeding on mindless videos, and addicted to the dopamine spike every “like” gets us. We swipe our phones 2,500 times a day on an average, severely distracted and craving constant stimulation. Our work is inextricably linked to the web as more and new livelihoods spring up — digital marketer, influencer, influencer-manager among innumerable more. The first is led to make much noise over and above the existing noise, the next amplifies it, and the third must super-amplify it. We aren’t just restless, agitated and impatient; we are screaming our heads off to be heard. This frenzy is making us fragile. As we have done to the planet.</p>.<p>And yet, all may not be lost. A few weeks into the lockdown brought amazingly clear skies. The Dhauladhar range of mountains was visible, after thirty years, to the people of Jallandhar, 200 kilometres away. Foliage touched shades of deep and bright green and wildlife came out of hiding, mating more frequently in the quiet of the Anthropause. Nature’s power to heal itself remains intact and alive. Provided we slow down, and pursue, for ourselves and the planet, inner stillness. When we are still within, our coping mechanisms are bolstered. The act of quietude enables us to delay gratification. To do so, even for a moment, taps into our potential for calm fulfilment. We need nothing in that moment. We take from no one and nowhere, and yet we grow in resilience.</p>.<p>As the planet turns warmer, an extreme climate event may bring the grid down. Livelihoods will be affected; lifestyles will be altered. Acute events will prod social readjustments. Our eco-anxiety and stress will spike. We will need alternatives... quaint, old and real-world communication methods and mechanisms to simultaneously function, as a fallback. Experts suggest caring for ourselves with healthy habits and strengthening social networks by building connections with family, friends and associates. In real-time and space. To make us good neighbours — responsive, resilient and humane. It is what the planet needs us to be.</p>
<p>In November-December 2015, Chennai witnessed heavy rainfall. The city was flooded. 500 people died and 1.8 million others were displaced. A homemaker documented her initial experience. The first object that was affected, she said, was the set-top boxes. They usually malfunction in mild rainfall. Here, in a deluge, they stopped working altogether. Suddenly there was no access to television. The next to go off was electricity. The phones ran out of charge. We could not call anyone, she said. All numbers were on the phone. So we lost connectivity and communication. Since there was no electricity, the internet wouldn’t work. That meant no access to web-based emergency services and no access to ATMs. Therefore no cash could be withdrawn.</p>.<p>In the end, she listed four things that were of help. Battery operated radio sets for information. Landlines — wherever they were operational, (and they were mostly so, apparently) which helped call family and friends. Thirdly, hard cash — whatever was at home and available. Small change became of huge value. And lastly, being and having good neighbours.</p>.<p>Our planet is in distress. Various reports suggest that in the past thirty years, we have used up about 40 percent of the earth’s resources. Nature, with its incredible power to regenerate, is not able to keep up with our pace of consumption. We are hurtling towards hardship. On average, 20 million people are facing displacement every year, while life forms are dwindling from increased flooding, drought, wildfires and other extreme weather events, caused by climate change. New terms have come into use. Eco-anxiety. Climate depression. Eco-guilt. Ecological grief. Ecopsychology. The state of our planet is enmeshed in the state of our minds. Our minds, in turn, are force-riding the speed of our tools. As a species designed to move, we are sedentary through most of the day, locked to our screens, with our minds racing, feeding on mindless videos, and addicted to the dopamine spike every “like” gets us. We swipe our phones 2,500 times a day on an average, severely distracted and craving constant stimulation. Our work is inextricably linked to the web as more and new livelihoods spring up — digital marketer, influencer, influencer-manager among innumerable more. The first is led to make much noise over and above the existing noise, the next amplifies it, and the third must super-amplify it. We aren’t just restless, agitated and impatient; we are screaming our heads off to be heard. This frenzy is making us fragile. As we have done to the planet.</p>.<p>And yet, all may not be lost. A few weeks into the lockdown brought amazingly clear skies. The Dhauladhar range of mountains was visible, after thirty years, to the people of Jallandhar, 200 kilometres away. Foliage touched shades of deep and bright green and wildlife came out of hiding, mating more frequently in the quiet of the Anthropause. Nature’s power to heal itself remains intact and alive. Provided we slow down, and pursue, for ourselves and the planet, inner stillness. When we are still within, our coping mechanisms are bolstered. The act of quietude enables us to delay gratification. To do so, even for a moment, taps into our potential for calm fulfilment. We need nothing in that moment. We take from no one and nowhere, and yet we grow in resilience.</p>.<p>As the planet turns warmer, an extreme climate event may bring the grid down. Livelihoods will be affected; lifestyles will be altered. Acute events will prod social readjustments. Our eco-anxiety and stress will spike. We will need alternatives... quaint, old and real-world communication methods and mechanisms to simultaneously function, as a fallback. Experts suggest caring for ourselves with healthy habits and strengthening social networks by building connections with family, friends and associates. In real-time and space. To make us good neighbours — responsive, resilient and humane. It is what the planet needs us to be.</p>