I think the world will die of a cancer that is too fast to stop, but slow enough to be felt. This is a unique time to come of age. I am watching a video about Fourier Transforms on a laptop built with lithium from a mine which destroyed hundreds of acres of forest. The lecturer on my screen assures me that Fourier Transforms are very handy. Will it help me grow my own vegetables when the earth finally turns arid? Will it tell me what to do when the taps in the city run dry? Will the Fourier Transform help me stop a rare species of beetle from going extinct in Madagascar?
*
My therapist tells me my anxiety about the world ending is making me paranoid and jittery. “You can’t always be on edge, expecting the worst.” she says. I tell her my anxiety isn’t the result of an irrational phobia, but the natural conclusion of pragmatic thinking. How can you know that the world will end catastrophically, and then not worry? I come up with a metaphor: I tell her this feeling is like a tinnitus of the soul. A soft but constant ringing reminding me of the imminent doom that awaits all of humanity. “I feel small and helpless,” I say. “I’ve not bought anything off Amazon and I carry my own shopping bags. I convinced my neighbour to forgo firecrackers for Diwali. I fed a stray dog yesterday. But the world will still end, and I can’t stop it.”
Illustration by Adarsh Jay
In ninth grade, I had a test that I flunked. I consoled myself by saying that this small test was inconsequential. I was sure that in a decade if I looked back at it, I would realise that it did not matter in the Grand Scheme of Things. In the Grand Scheme of Things, everything collapses and the world ends. I might as well not bother with the Fourier Transform. I should drop out of college, and instantly start preparing for The End. Stock up seeds, teach myself first aid, buy a swiss army knife (not off Amazon), discover a new method of purifying water. I should start teaching my community how to compost. I should run for government to improve public transport. I could fund that girl’s school education, take that stray cat to the vet, install rainwater harvesting on my roof, attend that seminar on casteism, show up to the protest, argue with my mom about politics. When will I have done Enough to stop The End? Is there an Enough? Where is it and how can I find it? Please tell me what Enough is and I will do it. I don’t want everyone to die.
*
My therapist says everyone needs hobbies. I used to like makeup, until I learnt that the mica in my highlighter was mined by a child labourer. I enjoyed cooking, till I learnt the onion I was chopping had been watered with the blood of a farmer. Travelling to new places is nice, fuel emissions from jets are not. I quit meat because the meat industry is cruel to animals. Then I quit dairy, because it causes greenhouse gas emissions. Then I quit almond milk, because the nuts were grown by an underpaid, undocumented immigrant. Then I quit existing, knowing this way, I had Done No Harm.
*
Society tells me to Work Hard, so that I can earn money to Consume. “The free market has given you freedom!” the man in the top hat on the cover of Monopoly tells me. I have twenty brands of toothpaste to choose from, but I have never felt more trapped in my fate. People in high places whom I have never met have written my (and the rest of the planet’s) eulogy, and sealed it with a wet, sopping kiss.
*
I was watching a documentary on armadillos. They roll into balls when they feel threatened. I want to roll into a ball and roll myself all the way to the bottom of the Mariana Trench. I was born into a dying world.
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