-- *Mar*Certainly 🌿 — here’s a *short original story* inspired by the spirit and philosophy of YM Sarma’s *“The Extinction of Nature’s Poetry.”*
It’s written in a poetic–philosophical style, blending narrative and reflection — a kind of eco-allegory. ------------------------------ *The Last Garden* When the machines finished building the last city, the sky stopped singing. The towers gleamed like frozen lightning, and the people who lived inside them forgot how wind felt on their skin. They called the city *Eterna*, believing it would last forever. No one noticed that the birds had stopped returning in spring. No one noticed that the rivers beneath the city had turned silent and slow, like veins drained of blood. Only an old woman named Mira, once a teacher of art, remembered that once the world itself used to speak — in leaves, in rain, in birdsong. She used to tell her students, “Every creature is a poem. When you listen carefully, you hear the whole planet rhyme.” Now her students worked as “creative engineers,” composing digital forests on screens, forests that needed no soil, no air, no scent. When Mira walked into their labs, she could not hear the music of life — only the hum of machines pretending to breathe. One morning, tired of silence, she left the city. Beyond the glass gates, she found a patch of wild earth the machines had missed — a forgotten garden where moss clung to stone and a single tree twisted toward the sun. Beneath it, the ground pulsed faintly with green light. When Mira touched the soil, something ancient stirred. >From the earth rose whispers — not words, but sensations: the ache of roots, the laughter of wind, the pulse of rain returning after years of drought. The garden spoke to her in the only language left — the poetry of being alive. She stayed. She sang to the garden every day, her voice thin and cracked, but honest. Slowly, the moss thickened. The tree grew new leaves. Insects returned, and the air filled with the small, stubborn sound of life rewriting its own verse. People from Eterna came to see the miracle. Some mocked her. Others stayed to listen. They began to plant seeds — not data, but real ones. The garden spread. Children learned to speak in the rhythm of wind again. Years later, when Mira died, they buried her under that same tree. On her gravestone were only five words: *“She remembered nature’s poetry.”* And when the city lights dimmed each night, the tree glowed faintly in the dark — not from electricity, but from the memory of one human heart that had chosen to listen. ------------------------------ 🌱 *Author’s Note* This story is a symbolic continuation of Sarma’s philosophy. It portrays the rediscovery of *ecological consciousness* through individual awakening. Mira represents the artist–ecologist — one who resists the mechanized world by remembering that life itself is art. The garden becomes the “Free Nature Park” of Sarma’s essay: a living university where humans relearn participation in nature’s symphony. ------------------------------ Would you like me to expand this story into a longer *eco-fantasy short story (2,000–3,000 words)* with more world-building and characters — perhaps showing how the city begins to change because of Mira’s legacy? -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Thatha_Patty" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. To view this discussion visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/thatha_patty/CACDCHCKzGqzSpNh-dD7nM1TzaOkt4ad2uOvu_Cq3Gf37nAquQQ%40mail.gmail.com.
