Climate change stories: when the water rises

Stories and News No. 1027

The International Monetary Fund has called on the richest countries to help poor nations tackling climate change - which they’re often the original accountable ones, otherwise, weaker global growth and higher migration flows will be inevitable.
Meanwhile, in places such as Bangladesh, nature laws lose their mind and upset families and homes.
The door is air, the ceiling is sky and the floor is water...


 
Let's watch it together, the temporarily stolen picture.
Chintan looks back over the boundaries of the latter and is rightly concerned.
Mom of all and everything, Dhara, continues undaunted to deal with nourishing affections and hopes.
Her older daughter, Sati, is studying her mother, studying as a mother, studying how to face the fate.
The little one, Ahir, is also staring at the world beyond the deformed side of the mirror, as his older sister Padma too.
Nevertheless, different moods and light are woven into their gaze.
Chintan has got the fundamental task of adding the decisive dimension to the apparent inertia of the image, to remind us that that photo tells true life, despite the poor resolution of common empathy.
"What could we do if the water rises?"
Dhara listens, but chooses not to answer.
That is, she does in the only acting that she sees as reasonable, good parent and human lesson.
Read as well as never stop pursuing daily priorities.
Sati also replies in her own way. The girl who studies the past confirms her choice, since she confides in it to deal with any obstacle that might cast doubt on present and future: you are a the true teaching road, mother, and your food is eternal school.
Padma seems to ignore the comprehensible question.
Maybe that's right, maybe not.
It really doesn’t matter, you know?
Because it’s likely that every question, all the biggest doubts of larger number’s humanity, are mixed together in the burning demand which she hits the screen with.
I see you all, in short.
The only one to give word to word, in the silent ritual of that wonderful demonstration of family tenacity, is the youngest.
"If water will come up we'll eat on the top of the house," Ahir replies, still ready to confuse the moment's despair with a smile.
Precious magic that one day will save his life, the next one and the other as well.
"And what if the water is still rising?" Chintan insists on accepting the challenge.
"We will eat on the clouds," Ahir explains, as if it were even easier to answer.
"And if clouds break and rain?"
"We'll eat where the rain will take us."
"And if the wind sweeps them away?"
"We will eat by flying."
"And if the wind doesn’t stop anymore?"
"Good, it means we will eat forever."
The fair lips design on Ahir's face becomes furtherly intense, sure of winning the contention, and his brother assists the triumph, caring not to crush the full half of his imagination.
Precious skill that one day will save his life from modern cynicism.
In any case, the goliardic diatribe is interrupted by the mother.
The meal is ready to be consumed and soon forgotten, to be immune to the disputes of the worst time to come.
However, today, we say thanks to these gifts.
May the table and the earth still supporting us be blessed.


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