My dearest daughter,
You must be wondering why the streets are so empty, where all your friends who used to play at the park have disappeared and why daddy stays at home instead of going to work. Well, these days are not like any other days we have seen in our lives before.
We are in middle of a big change, the likes of which the world has not seen in centuries. Some people are calling it “the great reset.” It is as if the nature has decided to reclaim the world from us humans. Alas, we were so ill-prepared for these times.
For way too long, we looted and plundered this planet all in the name of progress. We built our glorious civilization on the premise that it is inevitable, even an inescapable exigency, to bereave the world of its gleaming beauty. Our insatiable appetites drove animals out of their habitats and into our burgeoning food markets. We turned lush forests into wastelands to build houses we failed to turn into homes. We dissipated the life-giving marvels of our oceans to extract every last bit of energy that we then used to abuse the planet even more. We created poisons in the name of finding cures for an aching humanity. We fed our children toxins manufactured in food factories while watching thousands die of hunger every day. Even as we stockpiled vicious weapons to satiate our murderous hunger for power, we ignored the war nature waged on us from the quiet shadows of barren caves in the Amazon. And now, the ear-numbing silence on our streets screams out to us, invoking our derelict humanity to save whatever is left of our “civilization.”
This did not happen overnight. We have neglected earth’s cries of despair for far too long to absolve ourselves of the responsibility for the unfolding mayhem. We are all complicit in this—you and me. We have all been part of the problem and not part of the solution. Yet, we choose to point fingers at each other. As if shifting the blame will clear our conscience of any semblance of guilt before we become a casualty ourselves. Our collective penance must be served down here, where there is no light, so that the world that emerges out of the ashes is one that has humility. We might or might not come out of this alive, but I am hopeful that the resulting world will be deserving of its claim to humanity.
If God forbid, you get to the other side of this without me and your mother to take care of you, know that this was a lesson—a grave warning to be heeded in times of comfort and despair alike. Excess is vile and moderation, good. Humanity will learn this important lesson finally. I’m afraid it had to come to this for us to open our eyes to our own wicked ways.
You must promise to yourself that in the new world, you will persevere with humility and compassion, that you will hold the qualities of ambition, individuality, confidence, talent and enterprise only secondary to kindness. You must promise that you will not tread the path that the generation before you trod. You must shun the gluttony that we prided ourselves on. You must treat those in need with love and respect and do whatever is in your capacity to heal their wounds inflicted by years of inequality and hate.
The rest of the world may come to realize this late as they always have, but you must understand the egregiousness of the circumstances and the imminent danger of the world going back to its old ways. If that were to happen; it would be a grave misfortune.