By Anika Bhuta, Class 10, Utpal Shanghvi Global School, Mumbai
The theme of a wandering soul lost in the concrete jungle, stumbling and staggering, is one well documented.
But what when that wandering soul finds the peace within the madness?
What when they spot the light streaming through the alabaster branches of skyscrapers? What when they see a little daisy bloom in the midst of metal and glass?
When night falls like a cloak of blackness, and if you're high enough, you can see the fireflies. Not ones that fly, but nevertheless ones that blink out when dawn approaches. They're all the hues and shades - easily mistaken for light pollution. And then you look closer, and all you see is their unique beauty too.
Roars and snarls of the traffic. Whimpers of horns. The mumble of an endless mass of public. And in some little pockets of solitude - if you listen close - you can hear the trill of nature too. At night, the crickets still chirp. At dawn, the birds still sing.
Sometimes you feel suffocated, and everything closes in, setting in a claustrophobia exacerbated the the faceless grey that surrounds you, and you yearn for a modicum of green.
The same wandering soul collapses under the weight of expectations and deadlines and the future. That's the price, I guess, of living in the concrete jungle.
And then she sees that the green never left. It's interwoven with the grey like ivy on an old wrought iron gate.
Instead of feeling trapped, you feel free. Finding urban freedom within a cage of careers and finances can be hard. But when you do find it, it's the most liberating kind of freedom of all.
Hullo! So, this began as a commentary on the beauty of cities and their unique charm, but as I kept typing, my current sate of mind kinda metamorphosed it into a commentary likening nature to the natural state (you know, as like being carefree in your childhood as humans initially were, before stuff like civilization) and the city to responsibility that comes with adulthood. As you grow older, you think more, you care more, and you feel more. It reaches a level of saturation that can often be twisted into a claustrophobia within your choices. I, at least, am feeling that pressure right now. Then again, you start to slowly realize that not all of it has to go away. You can still scream and jam out in the living room to Fall Out Boy. You an still be giggly and laugh for no reason expect 'I feel like it'. You can still whack your friends upside the head when they do something particularly stupid. Growing up into the shoes of an adult is slightly stressful, to say the least. But the growing pains do subside. Sometimes all you can do is remind yourself of that.