COP30: Gripped by the grey

It’s a balmy, cloudy day here in Bengaluru. Last night, it had rained. Again. It’s almost November at the time of writing this story. Yet the rains have stayed. This year, it has seemed that the monsoon that began in May has never really gone away. While old-time Bengalureans lament that their ooru is not a ‘Garden City’ anymore and that ACs are the norm in a city once famed for its deliciously cool summers, this year has proven otherwise. The average number of sunny days has declined, while the number of cloudy days has increased. A 2024 study found that Bengaluru is experiencing a steady decline of 4.71 hours of sunshine per year. That’s about six full days of sunlight just vanishing from our skies. 

Still, Bengaluru’s “weather” draws us in. We brave the potholes and the incessant traffic just so that we can have that bajji and pakoda with a cup of steaming chai on gloomy days when the rain plays its own music. We console ourselves when the temperatures cross 40 degrees Celsius in Delhi and smirk when Chennai sweats buckets in humidity. We have it good, still.

A fabric ripping apart

But is it really so? Behind that facade, we Indians are a worried lot. A 2023 Nature India study showed that Indians report the highest climate anxiety levels globally. And it’s more apparent among the youth, who probably have to face the brunt of climate change over the next few decades. The Energy and Resources Institute (TERI) reported in June 2025 that 94% of Indian youth experience some form of eco-anxiety. Heatwaves, erratic rains, and water scarcity are the top causes. We are worried about the state of our planet, especially when the fabric is ripping apart at the seams, as it is now, and is directly affecting us.

“I often think about it, and there have been times when it kept me up at night. My worry and anxiety deepened after I had kids, when I kept going back to the question of what kind of planet my kids would inherit,” admits Snigdha Ghosh Roy, a mother of two, who lives in Noida. “As someone who has lived almost her entire life in the northern part of the country, it is natural to wonder how we are going to live this way and for how long. There are mounds of plastic waste, untreated, of course. There is extreme consumption, SUVs as the preferred mode of transportation, multi-car households, excessive AC use, and so much more that is ridiculously indulgent,” she despairs. And of course, the worry is always for the generation that’s coming next. What sort of world will her kids grow up in?

On the brink, aren’t we?

Sumit Singla is the father of a seven-year-old girl, and he has the same fears as Snigdha. “What I fear is that she’ll grow up in a bleak, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world. It will be a world on the brink of climatic and societal collapse.”

That might sound like he’s describing a sci-fi novel, but the fears are valid. Air pollution in India is now an urban health emergency, and 40% of India’s wetlands have disappeared over the past three decades. This worsens flooding situations. Punjab saw the worst floods since 1988 in August this year. Over 1,400 villages were submerged, causing mass displacement. Uttarakhand was hit by flash floods and landslides, displacing over 300 families. In Darjeeling, 18 people died in floods caused by heavy rains.

While that may be the case in one corner, in our ooru, July 2025 was the driest since July 2019, while May broke decades-old records with exceptionally heavy rains. The monsoon has behaved erratically, throwing tantrums that have surprised even seasoned meteorologists. Having lived in Bengaluru all my life, the city’s changing seasons startle me — and, if I were to be honest, leave me wondering whether the next few decades of my life would be livable at all.

Storing climate trauma

These are valid fears, says Dr Mahima Sahi, a psychologist based in Chandigarh. “Eco-anxiety is broadly defined as the chronic fear or distress about environmental change and ecological disaster (as described by the APA, American Psychological Association),” she explains. And she’s seeing more of that anxiety in her practice. She describes a “kind of restlessness and helplessness” in her sessions with adults from urban areas. “Many describe feeling ‘off’ because of erratic weather patterns or prolonged seasons, like the recent monsoon that threw routines off and forced untimely shifts in plans. Even when they don’t use the word eco-anxiety, their bodies seem to express it,” Dr Sahi says.

Studies show that individuals who are affected by anxiety over the climate may not just express it verbally, but also through somatic symptoms such as sleep disturbances, irritability, and loss of routine. Displacement and disruption can produce long-lasting changes, including PTSD or trauma. Scanning the news every day and seeing reports of one disaster or another can affect even the most stoic minds. We settle into a kind of numbness, which Snigdha also identifies with. “That numbness says a lot about how much collective trauma we’ve unconsciously stored,” she agrees.

As a parent, Amrutha Prashanth, a content and communication head in Bengaluru, feels the same collective despair. “I am genuinely concerned about the kind of future we are creating for our next generation. The combination of increasing temperatures, irregular precipitation, and deteriorating air quality raises concerns about the environment my daughter and children, in general, will experience during their lifetimes.”

Not all is lost

Her 10-year-old daughter may be part of today’s Alpha generation and is already keenly aware of the environment. Like Sumit’s daughter, Samiah, Aarna is passionate about nature and animals. “The sight of city pollution and animals suffering from heat, pollution, and habitat loss makes her feel deeply disturbed. She often tells us about plastic pollution in the oceans and how human actions harm animals; she worries about them more than about herself!” laughs Amrutha. Sumit says that Samiah does her best to “pick every snail and caterpillar she can” and gently place them on the side of the road in a flower bed. She knows that using public transport is better for the environment, and is aware of the ozone layer, melting glaciers, and transportation, he adds. And she is just seven!

Would this mean we should be hopeful? While the kids seem to be aware, what are we as adults doing? Prashanth Ranganath is 43, all high-octane energy, and bustling with ideas. There’s so much to learn from young minds, he gushes. Prashanth views the Singapore model as one Bengaluru can also implement.

“Cities like Singapore have transformed through a combination of renewable energy adoption, efficient waste management, and strict environmental regulations, but more importantly, through a shared social mindset that values sustainability. Real change begins when citizens participate, not just when policies exist.”

He’s keen that young students take the lead by forming communities within their neighbourhoods and address issues proactively. Bengaluru has several Climate Action Clubs that involve youth in civic engagement activities. Citizen involvement in sustainability has been ramped up through the Bengaluru Climate Action and Resilience Plan (BCAP). This is a data-driven roadmap to achieve net-zero emissions and climate resilience for the city by 2050. Ambitious? Not for Ravin Nair, the managing director of an independent educational institute rating system in India. He brims with confidence that change is on the way, and it’s not all climate change.

“In cities like Bengaluru, parents are increasingly drawn to institutions that demonstrate environmental responsibility. Students and their families want to know about green campus programs, energy consumption, and waste disposal systems when selecting a college. Younger students now define their school identity through sustainability because this value has shifted from a fashion statement to a necessity,” he points out. Ravin says he personally practices environmental mindfulness by reducing his dependence on disposable plastic. “I work to align our organisational behaviour with sustainability through two initiatives: paperless operations and carbon offsetting for events,” he adds.

A matter of privilege?

Art consultant Jim Tharakan feels that some of these initiatives are accessible only to the privileged. Like many old-time Bengalureans, he laments the city’s change, but has made small changes for sustainable living. He is conscious about what he eats, reducing food consumption and using cold-pressed oils, for example. Tharakan advocates for active citizen commitment to mitigate climate anxiety. “Be involved in the many engagements that are in the interest of the world. Engage with them, get involved in some of the projects. Stay curious about what is possible, and get hands-on and get dirty with soil, air, water.”

Snigdha struggles with this, however. She admits she has often been fooled by “greenwashing,” a term for companies that tout eco-friendly products without actually practising sustainability. “I remember buying organic cotton clothing that would fall apart in three or four washes, and then wondering how sustainable it can be? What I do is limit consumption, reuse as much as I can, reduce packaged food and goods, buy local, avoid quick commerce unless essential, and now I go to the weekly bazaars for all the things that I need during the week.”

Simple tweaks can help

Simple steps. But they can help. Small things like composting, reusing, and eating local can genuinely ease anxiety. Mahima agrees. “Eating local, for instance, not only supports sustainability but also aligns with what nutritional psychiatry tells us: that consuming fresh, local, and seasonal food can positively influence mood and gut-brain health. Similarly, composting or reusing fosters a tangible sense of contribution, which can genuinely reduce anxiety by giving people a sense of purpose and agency.” Amrutha says that her daughter’s school has started a ‘Farm School’ with terrace gardening, where the children and staff collectively grow vegetables that are later used in the school kitchen. On her part, she tries to buy pre-loved books and borrow books rather than buy them. These are the acts that give Dr Sahi hope.

Despite the many faces of humanity she sees every day through her practice, Dr Sahi believes that the world isn’t doomed. “I deeply believe that every person has the capacity to improve and overcome, that growth and resilience are inherent human strengths,” she observes. This is a world teetering on the edge of certainty, but perhaps we can find certainty in our resilience.

The climate may challenge us; Nature will protest, but our ability to adapt and to help each other will always remain our greatest strength.