Leaf Notes

In recent years, electronic devices have become an integral part of our lives. From smartphones to laptops, we use these devices to communicate, work, learn, and entertain ourselves. However, the question arises, do electronic devices promote environment-friendly practices? The answer is both yes and no.

On the one hand, electronic devices can help reduce paper usage and waste. With the increasing use of digital documents and online communication, we can minimize our dependence on paper and reduce the amount of waste generated. Moreover, electronic devices enable remote work and virtual meetings, which can reduce the need for travel and, consequently, the associated carbon emissions. We can now work from the comfort of our homes and avoid long commutes to the office. Additionally, some electronic devices, such as smart thermostats, can help people save energy by automatically adjusting temperature settings and reducing wasted energy.

On the other hand, electronic devices can also contribute to environmental problems if not used responsibly. The production and disposal of electronic devices can generate significant amounts of waste and pollution. We must ensure that we dispose of our devices correctly and recycle them wherever possible. Moreover, electronic devices can consume a lot of energy, particularly if they are left on or in standby mode when not in use. We must be conscious of our energy consumption and turn off our devices when not in use.

The key lies in responsible usage and responsible manufacturing. We must use electronic devices responsibly and minimize their environmental impact. We must choose devices that are energy-efficient and designed with sustainability in mind. Manufacturers must prioritize sustainability in their designs and production processes. They must use eco-friendly materials and implement recycling programs to minimize waste and pollution.

In conclusion, electronic devices can promote environment-friendly practices if used responsibly and designed with sustainability in mind. We must strike a balance between our dependence on technology and our responsibility towards the environment. Let us use technology to improve our lives while minimizing our environmental impact. Thank you.

In the glossy world of trend cycles and overnight shipping, fashion has become a symbol of selfexpression and of environmental destruction. Beneath every $10 T-shirt or limited-edition hoodie lies a story woven not only in fabric but in fossil fuels, labor exploitation, and planetary stress. This is the untold story of fast fashion a system driven by speed, fueled by consumption, and paid for by ecosystems we barely notice. 

While fashion is often seen as art, identity, and economy, it is increasingly becoming a central player in the climate conversation. According to the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP), the fashion industry is responsible for around 10% of global carbon emissions more than international flights and maritime shipping combined. It is also the second-largest consumer of water and contributes approximately 20% of global wastewater. These numbers, though staggering, are hidden behind colorful storefronts and influencer hauls. 

The Cost of Clothing No One Talks About

Fast fashion operates on a simple principle: more for less. Brands release new collections weekly, sometimes even daily, pushing consumers to purchase and discard at an unsustainable pace. The consequences ripple across the supply chain. 

• Water Waste: Producing one cotton shirt requires around 2,700 litres of water the amount a person drinks in two and a half years. 

• Chemical Pollution: Dyeing fabrics involves toxic chemicals that often end up in rivers and oceans, poisoning aquatic life and nearby communities. 

• Microplastics: Synthetic fibres like polyester shed microplastics during washing, which enter our food chain and even the air we breathe. 

• Textile Waste: The average Canadian throws out 37 kilograms of textiles per year, most of which end up in landfills or incinerators. 

The environmental price is steep, but it is paid quietly, in the background of our daily choices. 

Fast Fashion and the Mind: A Hidden Link

Beyond its environmental toll, fast fashion has a less obvious but equally troubling impact: its connection to mental health. The constant barrage of trends, aesthetic shifts, and marketing creates a culture of inadequacy and overconsumption, especially among teens. 

The dopamine hit of buying something new fades quickly, leaving a void that’s often filled by you guessed it another purchase. This cycle not only damages wallets and the planet, but also feeds into anxiety, perfectionism, and low self-esteem. Studies in consumer psychology show that compulsive shopping habits can be directly linked to symptoms of depression and emotional fatigue. 

Moreover, fashion’s marketing machine often upholds unrealistic beauty standards and consumerist ideals, pressuring young people to buy their way to belonging. In this way, environmental degradation and psychological strain become intertwined two threads in the same unravelling tapestry. 

Canada’s Role in the Global Fabric

While Canada may not be home to the world’s largest textile factories, it plays a significant role in the global fashion economy especially through consumption. Many Canadian brands outsource their production overseas, where regulations on pollution and labour rights are weaker. Yet the environmental consequences from textile imports to landfill use are felt locally. 

In Winnipeg, for example, organizations like the Manitoba Council for International Cooperation have been raising awareness around ethical consumption, while initiatives like clothing swaps, repair cafes, and local thrift collectives are growing. These movements reflect a broader shift one in which Canadian youth are leading conversations about sustainability, ethics, and personal responsibility. 

Sewing a Different Future: What Can Be Done

Tackling the fast fashion crisis requires more than just switching from Zara to thrift stores. It requires a shift in mindset from disposable to durable, from trendy to timeless. Here are a few pathways forward: 

• Buy Less, Choose Well: Invest in fewer, higher-quality items that last longer. 

• Support Ethical Brands: Look for companies that offer transparency, fair wages, and eco-friendly materials. 

• Embrace Second-Hand: Thrift shopping, clothing swaps, and rental fashion are on the rise and for good reason. 

• Learn to Repair: Sewing a button or patching a tear can extend the life of a garment and reduce waste. 

• Advocate for Policy: Push for regulations that hold brands accountable for their environmental footprint. 

The Threads We Leave Behind

“Clothes are not going to change the world. The women who wear them will,” said Anne Klein. But in today’s climate crisis, perhaps it is the choices behind what we wear and what we refuse to buy that will define our legacy. 

Fashion does not have to be wasteful. It can be expressive, ethical, and empowering. The question is not whether our clothes make a statement they always do. The question is: what kind of world are we stitching with every purchase? 

The answer, like the Earth’s future, is still unwritten. But if young voices like yours choose to sew sustainability into the seams of daily life, then maybe, just maybe, this story ends in hope. 

The nature is crying

It is in pain

But how has it happened?

That the nature is dying

We are messing up with our little brains.

Let’s get far back

To the planet of magma and rocks

To times, with no water and leafs

Back to the lullaby, of life itself.

Incredible planet was roaring for ages

While carbon with lava were dancing in pair

But nothing is eternal under the moon

And heat went away, cooling the air.

No one knows how

Nobody when

But we were so lucky

For bacteria’s birth.

Just simple bacteria

With chloroplast

But they were the ones

Who allowed nature to last.

Billions of years were passing away

Of hunting amoebas for their little prey

Until one sunny day on the may

When fish came ashore, out of the bay

The cycle has started again

Of evolving and breeding of our selfish gene

And we have said to seas farewell

Still being involved in nature’s spell

Reptiles, amphibians, and birds

Mammals and Cats, and so many species

And then, out of monkeys, finally came

Homo Sapiens- us, to Earth colonize

We were quick, 

In civilization creating,

All structures and ships, even a click!

But nature has counted our actions frustrating.

Nature was patient, while burning all fossils

And she wasn't happy, of pollution and waste

She was irritated, by extinction of hundreds

By being parasites, we made her mad

The Nature was shouting

The Nature was screaming

Wolves were howling whole nights  in a row

Until the sound, of the coming World Wars

Sounds of guns scared her away

Atomic bombs brought her pain

Bioweapons released - forced her hiding away

The total of violence, made her disappointed

Disappointed and crying, for so many years

Even though we, have tried a lot of things

To cure, to help, to heal her, revive

Make her fell better, inside and outside

And she has believed

No more tears were dropped

She actively cleaned all

That we wasted in past

Worms eating plastic

New elements safe

Everything seemed to be pretty and nice.

But nothing is eternal, under the moon

Again in despair

Again crying a lot

Slowly we came, to nuclear… last.

We still aren't there

We are dancing on edge

In wish being alive

As never before

No one knows how

Nobody when

But we would be unlucky

For nuclear's burst

Incredible planet will be silent for ages

While carbon and ash, are dancing in pair

We would be back 

To lava and heat.

But…

We still can stop

Nothing is late

 just starting to act

And just realize that…

The Nature is crying.

To most, chemical engineering is a field that involves chemistry, mathematics and physics, or a field where you have to constantly deal with a lot of intangible equations. However, to explain this field better, it is actually the science of transformation, where chemical engineers use raw materials to design processes and products that promote sustainability and reduce pollution. Thus, chemical engineers are indispensable to protecting our planet. 

With coal and petroleum being the biggest contributor to greenhouse gas emissions, our planet has been greatly harmed and the most common issue inflicted would be global warming. To tackle these problems, chemical engineers have developed various green technologies. Unlike conventional electricity, where its sources are fossil fuels, solar energy is derived from the Sun, which is a completely free and renewable energy source. This energy could be converted into electrical energy using photovoltaic panels, or better known as solar panels. Chemical engineers are well trained in material science and heat transfer, so their efforts have been paramount for the development of the most efficient systems for collecting solar energy without causing much pollution. To do this, chemical engineers help develop semiconductor materials used in the solar panels, such as silicon. When sunlight strikes these materials, it generates a direct current of electricity as the electrons are stimulated. However, a large portion of solar energy absorbed by the panels are generally converted to heat energy instead of electrical energy, so here’s when this field comes in handy – chemical engineers can utilise their understanding on the thermodynamic principles behind solar panels to maximize energy conversion. For instance, a team at Imperial College London invented a photovoltaic leaf technology, which was made up of a biomimetic transpiration layer that mimicked the transpiration system in a leaf to cool down the solar panels, and the chemical engineers made sure this technology is safe for the environment by making the layer from environmentally friendly materials.

Another fascinating contribution of the chemical engineers to the environment is the development of carbon capture and storage technologies. It is a way of reducing carbon dioxide emissions, which involves capturing the carbon dioxide gas produced by industrial activity, then transporting it via pipelines and injecting it deep underground for storage. Chemical engineers help to design effective CCS systems by applying their knowledge on separation processes and fluid dynamics, such as using distillation to separate the carbon dioxide gas from other components.

Ultimately, despite the damages done on our planet are irreversible, chemical engineering is a field that has the potential to drive us towards a cleaner and greener future.

There once was a tree planted in the red earth of a quiet garden, long before the sound of a first cry echoed through the house nearby. It was a fragile thing, barely a sapling, thin as a finger, green as hope. The old hands that planted it shook slightly with age, but were steady with purpose. "Let it grow with her, "they said, pressing soil over the roots. "Let it be her witness."

The tree didn’t know what it meant to be a witness. But it reached toward the sun anyway, drinking rain like it was made of memory. Birds occasionally paused on its soft young branches. A breeze carried the scent of the future through its leaves.

In the house, the child came home.

She was small, pink-faced, and loud. The garden welcomed her cries as music. The tree stood by, quiet but present, each year gaining a little height, a little strength.

When she was five, she gave it a name. “Boncha”, she said proudly, one arm wrapped around the slender trunk. No one else called it that. Only her. It became their secret.

Boncha watched her grow—first in diapers, then with scraped knees and muddy fingers. The girl would sit beneath its shade with a book half open, the other half of her mind lost in clouds. She once tied a ribbon around the tree’s trunk. "So, I can always find you", she whispered. Boncha didn’t need ribbon. It already knew who she was.

One summer, she wept beneath its boughs, tears sinking into the roots, after the loss of her neighboring grand-father who used to bring her mango slices from the nearby food truck that came in the evening. The tree didn’t ask questions. It simply stood a little taller, as if to shelter her grief.

But time, like autumn, comes in quiet steps.

Years passed, and so did the girl’s wonder. She grew into a teenager with headphones on and a screen between her and the world. The garden grew silent again. The tree, now proud and leafy, cast long shadows on empty soil.

There were no more ribbons. No stories whispered into its bark. No laughter echoing off the stones.

The girl forgot the tree.

And the tree? The tree remembered everything. It remembered the smell of her hair when she pressed her forehead to its trunk. It remembered her voice—young and loud, then soft and tired. It remembered the way the garden bloomed brighter when she danced barefoot through the grass. It remembered waiting. Always waiting.

Seasons changed like pages turning in a book no one finished. The garden grew older. The wind grew quieter. One day, the ribbon rotted away and fell into the soil, dissolving into the earth that had once promised connection.

And then, years later—long after the games and stories and laughter—the girl returned. Only she was no longer a girl. She stood tall, wearing shoes that cost more than all the toys she once buried in the garden. Her face held the weariness of cities. Her eyes scanned the yard as if he didn’t quite recognize it.

The tree did.

She reached out, almost hesitantly, and touched the bark. The moment her skin met it, something shifted. A feeling she couldn’t name—one of those ancient emotions that language struggles to hold—washed over her.

That was when I remembered.

It was my tree all along.

I had forgotten what it meant to grow beside something that asked for nothing and gave everything. I had forgotten that somewhere beneath my memory was a root still clinging to the soil of who I used to be.

I left, once, and forgot my tree. I let time distract me. I got busy. I grew “important.” I lost the part of me that knelt in the dirt and counted leaves like treasures.

I came back, not because I remembered the tree—but because the tree remembered me.

That tree outlived my childhood. It outlasted friendships, breakups, exams, and missed calls. It stood patiently while I searched for meaning in places far from where I first found it. It didn’t scold. It didn’t break. It just kept growing.

Now, standing before it, I noticed things I had once taken for granted. The delicate veins of each leaf, like little green maps of time. The bark, rough but warm, like the hand of an old friend. A squirrel darted along a branch and paused to look at me—maybe it remembered, too.

There is something spiritual about trees. They do not rush. They do not judge. They do not speak loudly, but their silence is not empty—it is full of presence. In a world where everything moves too fast, where notifications are louder than birdsong and concrete covers soil like a forgotten secret, trees remain as reminders. Of what we had. Of what we still have. Of what we’re dangerously close to losing.

I looked up. The sun filtered through the leaves, painting patterns on my face. The wind moved through the branches like breath.

And I knew, finally, why my grandparents planted that tree

.

They didn’t just plant it for me. They planted it with me. My first roots in the world were not only human—they were living, green, and silent.

In forgetting that, I had lost a piece of myself.

So, I whispered something to the tree that day. Not a story, not a joke, not even an apology.

Just: "I remember now.”

And the leaves rustled gently, as if to say:

“Welcome home.”

"Trees remember, even when we forget—

and they’re still waiting for us to care."

I was just an ordinary seventeen year old, a quiet and curious girl who loved to sketch trees, the birds, and the beautiful scenery.

The leaves danced in the breeze, flowers bloomed amidst the dewy grass, and the motorbikes roared in the distance.

I was walking barefoot on the green foliage, wandering about the school garden. The laughter of children once silenced when suddenly, a dust storm suddenly began to creep in. A thick fog howled through the benches. It blinded our eyes and covered every leaf, flower, and benches in a sheet of brown. All I heard was the howling and the screams of children. Weeks later, the skies opened, without a warning, with unexpected heavy rains that poured down with such haste that they almost killed an entire village in a flood. It left behind deep puddles in the broken road and the gutters overflowed with muddy waters. The summer that followed was longer, drier, and unbelievably warm, like the sun had come closer. 

I was stunned. Never had I seen a change so drastic. While I thought I was just imagining things, it seemed that the citizens all over the country were complaining as well. The news and TV channels were all alarming with the same reports of a haste shift in the climate.

The next day, after everyone had left in their school vans, I stood alone at the gate. My Mother had forgotten to pick me up once again. I called her, and she replied,"I will be there in twenty minutes."

With some time to spare and no one around but a few guards and the last remaining teachers, I decided to explore the school. The hallways felt empty. I trudged through the familiar school corridors, the echo of my footsteps bouncing off the tiled floors. 

I approached the stairs and passed the quiet classrooms until I spotted a small, dust-covered door hidden behind a stack of packages and peeling tape.

I decided to sneak inside, a little explorer; that’s what I was.

After a bit of struggle, I peeled away the tapes and dodged the leaning boxes. The air smelled of thick dust and plastics. It was a small, abandoned room with cracked walls and peeling paints.

In the darkness, something gleamed at the very center. A strange and circular metal object was pulsing faintly like it was alive. It had a hollow hole through the middle, the rim enriched with polished screws and silver plating.

It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. A perfect circle made from a smooth surface. At the very center, where it was hollow, was a glass orb and inside it was a mystic purple haze that swirled inside. When I leaned closer, I noticed tiny letters engraved on its rim:

*2075*

I laughed to myself; a stupid 7-grader science project it was, I told myself. I then clicked on the button at the bottom, which by far looked like it was faulty. But as soon as I did, the world around me began to shrink, or maybe I was shrinking. My vision blurred and everything around me was stretching and melting, and then a giant gleam of white light swallowed everything, even my own vision.

I couldn’t see anything, couldn't even blink. My heart pulsed wildly in my chest. I could weirdly feel my limbs twisting, stretching, moving awkwardly. I felt weightless. It felt like I was falling through something, but I couldn't feel anything, like a corpse. Was I dead? Is this the end?

And then silence. Maybe i have reached the ground, but I didn't feel my body collapse. There was a rasping, strange bustle in the distance. My nose stung slightly due to some unpleasant odour.

I blinked, finally. My vision returned in patches. There I noticed the sky, which in fact wasn’t blue but a sickly murky-like smoke colour. The air smelled burnt and chemical, thick enough that I chocked for breath the moment I inhaled. There were weird ashy clouds in the sky. It felt like a weird world, the opposite of mine.

Everything looked industrial. The walls around me of some many towering buildings were rusted metal, decorated with pipes and holograms instead of large televisions for advertising. 

Somewhere in the distance, a sharp siren blared. The high-pitched warning echoed through the air. As it fell silent, I noticed people rushing across the streets, disappearing into buildings and homes. I slowly got to my feet, my back aching and my throat burning from the strange scent that still lingered in the air.

And then I saw a girl, with coffee strands approaching me. She looked around my age or maybe a little older in a blue jumpsuit. She had a cylindrical tank, like the others strapped to her back and from it, a plastic tube led to a mask that was attached to her mouth like an inhaler. She took two short puffs before lowering it. Her eyes widened when she saw me.

“Whoa,” she said. “where is your OxyCan?”

I opened my mouth to speak but coughed instead. The air was dry and extremely bitter. She then disappeared and then returned back after a moment, tossing me a spare can. “Use it. You’ll faint without it. Bold of you to leave your home without it.”

I held it clumsily, confused. She raised a brow. “What? First time using a OxyCan Pro 9.0?”

I stumbled to my feet, like a confused baby born into a new world. Then blinking multiple times, my mouth finally parted, "OxyCan what?" The girl tiched, clearly irritated. She sighed and then followed by to help me strap the can around my chest, swiftly adjusting the mask over my face. 

"So-Oxygen isn't free here?" She brushed off my alarming question, despite the obvious panic in my voice. When finally the mask adjusted to my mouth, I inhaled. It felt clean and refreshing. Like back home, before everything turned grey and unsettling .The air entered in my lungs. I came back to my senses.

“Listen, I don’t know who you are, or how I even got here—”

“Kid, come on.” Her voice was firm as her eyes flicked towards the horizon. “The siren’s blaring. The industry’s about to release its waste.” Far off in the distance, once again, a slow whine wailed across the skies that echoed through hollow buildings. 

She pulled my arm. “Could you hurry? We can talk later. If we stay here, we’ll both melt.”

“Melt?!” I questioned with a gasp.

“Not like that,” she groaned. “The moment the waste clouds rise from these factories, the air begins to sting. Soon, you will find your throat and chest aching, and your eyes burning like acid.”

I stumbled beside her, my heart thumping and mind racing as i followed her. The ground was dry. No sight of birds nor any breeze or verdure. Just a sun glaring down on steel structures.

“Where… am I?” I said, following her into the glass building that was labeled in a glowing neon sign: 

'The Museum Of Hope'

“Earth,” she said dryly. “What did you think?”

"No, I mean, this isnt where I came from."

"Alright kid, where are you from?"

"Karachi, Pakistan!"

"This is Karachi, dear. Stop pulling my leg."

"Impossible. My city is way cleaner than this junk"

"You bet?"

She shrugged and pulled out a tiny device of her jumpsuit pocket, and tapped it twice. A glowing screen unfolded in the air right against the white museum wall. The screen buzzed softly. She typed a few words and pages of news articles hovered mid-air, glowing. My jaw dropped to the floor and eyes widened at the sight- it looked unbelievable 

“There,” she said, stepping aside. “Look for yourself.” I squinted. Headlines flashed across the screen. Pollution alarms. Acidic rainfall warnings. Food shortages. One headline read: "Karachi's Air Quality Index Extremely below Safe Levels.”

“What? No... no way. Karachi doesn’t look like this. Pollution? How come everyone here is so comfortable about this?” She gave me a look that was almost pity and annoyance. I stared at the news floating in front of me. The tech was unbelievable. My fingers reached out on instinct to turn the page like it was paper, and I muttered, “Huh. My parents read out of pure paper. Like actual books.”

My eyes drifted down. And then I saw it. July 18th, 2075. I blinked twice and then froze.

"Twenty seventy-five?” I whispered. My mouth dried up like it knew what I’d just read before my brain could catch up. "I've travelled through time?"

“Yeah,” she said, tightening the straps of her own air canister. “Took you long enough, though I have no clue what to do you mean." 

My knees nearly gave out. “I’m not supposed to be here. I’m from 2025. How is this possible-”

The siren interrupted again but louder this time. An eerie red light washed over the walls of the white museum like blood in milk. Inside the museum, people gathered like in almost every other building, but they seemed calm about it. Too calm. Like this was regular, a habit for them.

I watched through the tall glass panels as huge puffs of brown, unclean mist rose from faraway industries, darkening the sky like a slow-moving storm. My eyes widened. “The purifiers will be here in no time,” she said casually. 

“What now?” I asked.

“Purifiers!” she repeated, amused. “They clean the air, collect the pollution into their machines, condense it into liquid, and then dispose of it into the sea.” My shoulders sank as I stared at her in disbelief. I wasn’t sure what horrified me more; the smoke or the solution.

Then came the machines. Giant trucks, flying in the sky l with vacuum pipes. They buzzed through the clouds, sucking in the smoky air. It took quite a while. “It’ll take 20 to 30 minutes,” she said, already walking ahead. “Come on, let’s explore the museum.” I followed reluctantly, still glancing back through the glass in horror. "This is worse than any scary movie." I said to myself.

The museum’s white walls stretched high above us, spotless and glowing faintly under the soft ceiling lights. It was quiet and much more peaceful than the horror outside. The first room opened up into a hallway lined with glass boxes.

I squinted. “Leaves?”

“Fresh ones,” she nodded. “From the Green Zones.”

Inside the cases were delicate green leaves, each preserved like treasure. Some shimmered faintly. Some looked freshly plucked. Others were attached to small branches. Bird-shaped statues stood nearby, stone sparrows and bronze parrots.

“This feels wrong,” I whispered.

 She replied. “People don’t see real trees anymore. So this is what they visit instead. Only the Notables and the Governors have access to such green beauties known as the GreenZone. I wish I could once visit there.”

My heart felt a strange ache. One exhibit was called ‘Whispers of the Wind.' It was a glass room where air swirled gently. From there, you could hear the soft sounds of rustling leaves and bird chirps. People stood inside it with their eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the cold wind against their skin.

Children pointed excitedly at some small tree that actually moved its branches when you got close. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It seemed like they had never ever seen such things before. As if trees were fairytales for them.

When we stepped outside soon, the sky had cleared just enough to let a dull orange sun glow through the haze. The purifier machines were gone and so was the thick brown mist. But the smell of chemicals still lingered. I stood quietly.

“How long have you lived like this?” I finally asked her.

“All my life,” she said. “Why?”

I didn’t answer. My mind was packed with thousands of questions buzzing through. 

In a flicker of a moment, I found myself back into the dark room of 'My Karachi,' the circular machine pulsing a soft flow before it all went out. 

That night, back in my bedroom, I lay staring at the ceiling and the fan spinning like my thoughts. I looked outside the window and admired 'My Karachi.' Surely it was crowded, loud and messy. But it was alive. The Sun that seemed like pain, green trees that dropped mangoes, and winds that carried sand, not machines. We never realized how much we had. We never paused to smell the leaves. We just kept walking...assuming that it would all stay.

I grew up in my twenties, but that memory never left me. What I saw in that future was Karachi citizens choking under smoke, trees locked behind glass, oxygen sold for cash and children marveling at things that once grew freely. I started a campaign where the volunteers created a skit for multiple schools based on this story that happened to me, hoping to plant the same seed of hope in their hearts. Our campaign grew with popularity, encouraging kids to plant saplings and dispose of waste responsibly. It wasn’t much at first, but small hands can carry a big change. I wasn’t going to let my city turn into a museum of memories. 

Introduction:

Sharks dominated the oceans for millions of years. As top predators, their dominance is not necessarily based on muscle or teeth — it's their brain, perfectly calibrated for detection, pursuit, and survival. But now, the oceans are transforming. And insidiously, so too are shark minds.

Shark Intelligence and Sensory Systems:

Sharks are commonly referred to as instinctual. But in fact, they possess one of the most sophisticated brains in the sea — particularly with senses such as smell, navigation, and electroreception. Their olfactory bulbs enable them to follow their prey for kilometers. Their ampullae of Lorenzini, their jelly-filled sensory pores on their snouts, permit them to pick up even the weakest electrical impulses from other animals. In short, they're precision-wired.

But that wiring is being targeted.

Mercury and Neurotoxicity:

Mercury in the Mind

In 2010, a team of researchers released a study in Environmental Toxicology and Chemistry on the brains of a number of shark species — including great hammerheads and blacktip sharks. What they discovered was worrisome: high concentrations of methylmercury, a poisonous substance that accumulates in marine animals' bodies over time.

Since sharks are apex predators, they undergo something referred to as biomagnification — the more they consume, the higher the levels of toxins from their food that build up within their own flesh. Eventually, this mercury makes its way to their brains, disrupting neurotransmitters — the chemicals of the brain responsible for controlling movement, behavior, memory, and emotion.

Some of the impacted areas are:

1. The cerebellum (coordinate movement)

2. Olfactory bulbs (smell)

3. Telencephalon (spatial memory and learning)

The impact? Confusion. Decreased hunting effectiveness. Slower reflexes. Even potentially changes in migratory patterns.

That is to say: sharks are becoming less like the sharp predators they've always been — and more like bewildered waifs in a fouled ocean.

Ecological Impacts and Hidden Crisis

A Hidden Crisis:

The frightening thing is these changes are not visible. A shark remains a shark — but its actions may be questionable. In certain instances, they can become more violent. In others, they can disappear from ecosystems where they served to stabilize them.

These neurological disruptions don't only harm individual sharks — they imperil entire food chains. Sharks serve as a stabilizing force by keeping fish populations lower in the chain in check. When they lose their competitive advantage, the entire system changes.

And the reason? Too often, it's industrial effluent, untreated sewage, and plastic trash that seep poisons into the waters — the byproduct of human carelessness rather than natural adaptation.

Broader Environmental Reflection

A Bigger Question:

If the mind of the top predator can become muddled by our deeds, what else is being changed secretly? It's not merely sharks — it's about the systems we depend on. A shark's brain may seem remote from our everyday lives, but the water that cradles it affects us all.

There's something eerie about the fact that an animal designed for the open sea, which has lived since before dinosaurs, is now unable to think straight — not because of it, but because of us.

FINAL THOUGHT

Sharks have long provoked fear and awe. But perhaps the fear needs to be turned on its head. If even they can be handicapped by the trash we produce, what does it say about the future?

Quiet predators don't roar when they crash. But we ought to be listening.

I don’t know how to begin this,

Perhaps because this grief I feel doesn’t fit into lines.

Perhaps because love, when bruised by guilt,

Becomes nothing but a quiet ache that only memory defines.

Still here I am, writing to you.

Because you’re my only home, and my first blue breath.

You’re the place where I learned the sound of rain,

And what it means to fear death.

All my years, I was only taught to see you,

As a globe behind glass, a lesson to pass,

Just shadows in print, just numbers and names.

But I remember you differently,

You were the breath in my lungs,

The soil beneath my past,

The warmth on my skin,

And the type of rain that cleansed me of sin.

You were the road where my questions began,

The rise of the mountains, untouched by man.

You were the rhythm in long winding bends,

You were the feeling of finding myself again.

You sparked in my heart, a restless swirl,

You make me want to travel the whole wide world.

I drank from your sky,

I played in your soil,

I climbed your trees as if they’d never spoil.

I believed, so blindly,

That you were endless.

That rivers would always flow.

That winds would always roam.

That stars would guide me home.

But I see you now – gasping, near, not far,

Your lungs aflame beneath a smoky star.

Your eyes grow dim with shadows of despair,

And your skin cracks dry where life was once fair.

The Earth now weeps where forests once sprawled.

Her heartbeat slows, her beauty stalled.

The seas retreat with a heavy sigh,

Beneath a dim and fading sky.

You bleed in silence,

And we, the children you cradled,

Have grown deaf to your cries.

We paved over your laughter with highways,

We traded birdsong for machinery sighs.

And yet,

And yet, you endure.

You bloom defiantly in places we forgot,

A dandelion rising through a city’s rot.

A single heron standing still in poisoned lakes,

reminding us:

You haven’t given up,

Even as we make mistake after mistake.

And I?

I am no hero.

Just one voice, one pulse.

But I carry you in my marrow,

And I refuse to be part of the silence anymore.

I will be the one to speak for you, Earth.

For the things that cannot scream,

For the moss underfoot, and the vanishing stream.

For the seed that never got to see the sun,

And for the child yet to come.

I will plant, not just trees,

I will plant the idea that you’re sacred.

I’ll tear down apathy like it was rust,

And I’ll teach the world to love you again,

Not with pity, but with trust.

Because you’re not ours to own,

You’re not a resource.

You’re the reason and rhythm beneath every heartbeat,

And the mother of every force.

You’re not dying because time is cruel,

You’re dying because we forgot that to live without reverence,

Is not living at all.

But I remember,

And I’ll be the one to remind them.

And if enough of us do so,

If enough of us remember the feel of bark,

The scent of storms, and the whisper of wheat.

Then maybe, just maybe,

You will rise again beneath our feet.

So, this is my vow,

My offering to love you so fiercely that the tides turn.

To mourn, yes

But also, to act.

And to choose life before the last tree burns.

With trembling hope,

- A child of your dust. 

The average person sees somewhere between 4,000 and 10,000 ads. Consumers are constantly being told to want more, buy more and have more. This oversaturation of advertising creates the narrative that buying one product is the solution to all their problems. Furthermore, social media is a goldmine for advertisers as they can exploit the meticulously crafted algorithms of these platforms to promote their products. Trends come and go; however, with the rise of digital marketing, especially on social media, there has been an alarming increase in micro-trends. These are short-lived trends that suddenly gain popularity through viral social media posts and then fade away just as quickly.

That is to say, it is not too uncommon for people to get influenced by the thousands of dollars content creators spend on fast fashion and cheaply priced goods. However, in this way, micro-trends contribute to pollution and unsafe working conditions, such as sweatshops. Many people buy these products on a whim, just because of influence, but fail to think critically about their purchase. This perpetuates the cycle of buying and discarding items into landfills. Then again, overconsumption is not just limited to fast fashion and home goods but goes further into what we digitally surround ourselves with. In the technological age, the attention and autonomy we surrender to large corporations and brands are far more valuable than anything.

The consequences of mindless consumerism aren’t limited to our private spaces but extend to our environment. To begin, manufacturers will do anything to meet the growing demand, which in turn increases the depletion of finite resources such as wood, coal and water. Global natural resource consumption is predicted to increase by 60% by 2060, compared with 2020 levels, according to the United Nations Environment Programme. Equally relevant to the issue is the fuel used for excessive waste generation and transport, a significant driver of greenhouse gas emissions. Plastic, another byproduct, takes anywhere from 20 to 500 years to decompose, only to pollute our air and water.

So, before you buy that new product, take a moment to critically evaluate whether it is a need or a want. In order to reduce our environmental footprint, we must work together with governments and industries to adopt more ethical and sustainable practices and promote responsible consumption.

We often associate environment with forests, oceans, and pollution, but it is deeply engraved in everything. In recent years, there has been a rise in mental health crises and environmental disasters around the world. From eco-anxiety to disaster-related trauma, mental health is shaped by the condition of our planet. As the environment continues to decline, it’s crucial to recognize how closely our minds and surroundings are linked.  Environmental problems not only damage the Earth but also harm our emotional and psychological well-being. With eco-anxiety becoming popular, especially among the youth, they fear inheriting a planet already in crisis and damaged beyond repair. Moreover, people suffering from disasters such as droughts and floods experience long- term trauma, post-traumatic stress disorder, and depression due to challenges like malnutrition, migration in search of better livelihoods, and losing their loved ones. On the other hand, a healthy environment can also protect and improve mental health. Studies show that spending time in green spaces reduces stress, improves mood, and boosts concentration. Activities like gardening, walking in a park, or looking at nature can lower anxiety levels and help people feel more relaxed. In hospitals and urban areas, nature is now being used as a tool for recovery. This proves that the environment is not just a background to our lives; instead, it plays an active role in how we feel. When we destroy nature, we lose not only ecosystems but also important sources of peace and emotional balance. That said, it is crucial that we take action to protect the environment, not only for our mental wellbeing, but also to make Earth a better place for all its species.

Conserving the terrain:

The World Nature Conservation Day is celebrated annually on July 28.

The occasion aims to produce mindfulness about the need to save the terrain in order to keep the world healthy.

Saving shops and creatures that are hovered with extermination is one of the primary focuses of the World Nature Conservation Day.

There’s also an emphasis on keeping the colorful factors of nature complete. These

include foliage & fauna, energy coffers, soil water and air.

This occasion is an attempt at recognizing that a healthy and well- performing terrain is

critical for sustaining a stable, productive mortal society.

It also underlines the need for conserving the terrain for offspring.

In recent times, the need for keeping the terrain has come starker in view of grim

mortal overexploitation of coffers, which has led to weird rainfall patterns decreasingly

being the norm the world over.

Quote:

“Earth provides enough to satisfy every man’s requirement, but not every man’s rapacity.” ― Mahatma Gandhi

Help our terrain:

It is not obligatory that only the government and big companies conserve the terrain.

Everyone can share and conserve nature which is a beautiful gift to us. Several ways are there by which we can conserve the terrain like

1. Recycling Try to buy applicable and biodegradable products as much as possible. Reclaim everything if it’s possible.

2. It’s necessary to reduce the consumption of water.

3. Reduce the use of electricity. When your work is done with an electric appliance also turn it off. In this way, energy will be saved.

4. Factory trees and make the earth green.

5. Grow vegetables. In the request vegetables that are available are grown with chemicals and fungicides. So, it’s better to plant vegetables and eat organic food.

I've been thinking a lot about feeling overwhelmed recently. All the commotion, the pressure to keep pace, the incessant scrolling through social media—it's draining. And then I think: if I, just one individual, feel so drained by the world around me, what must the Earth be experiencing? I used to think about environmental issues—pollution, deforestation, global warming—as "out there" problems. Something scientists, activists, or the older generation should worry about. What is one to do, of 8 billion, to rescue the planet? I used to ridicule and belittle it. But years on, I've come to appreciate how everything we have inside us is connected with everything out there. The filthier our surroundings become, the more congested and anxious our minds seem to be. 

Have you ever walked into a green space—like a serene park or a forest path—and had your mind instantly relax? Nature calms. Studies have shown that spending time in green spaces lessens stress, improves mood, and improves mental clarity. But what happens if the green spaces are disappearing? And buildings and factories, or because we are lazy enough not to use public transport, the air is killing our green space. 

The rise in mental illness among teenagers is not just about Twitter or school pressures. It's also about being disconnected from Mother Nature. We live in a world of concrete and screens and artificial light. We no longer wake up to the songs of birds. We no longer feel the change of seasons. And our brains suffer. 

Protecting the environment isn’t just about saving animals or reducing carbon. It’s about saving ourselves and our future generation. When we ignore the Earth’s cries—the melting glaciers, the dying oceans, the burning forests—aren’t we also ignoring something inside us?

I look at the sky and it looks...

exhausted.

Like it’s been holding in a breath

for far too long.

Like maybe even the clouds forgot

how to cry without flooding.

The trees —

they don't sway the way they used to.

They brace.

For another storm,

another chain saw,

another loss no one will grieve.

Sometimes,

I wonder if the Earth feels like I do.

Like it's screaming in silence,

begging to be listened to,

but the world keeps scrolling,

keeps building,

keeps breaking things that can't be replaced.

And maybe that's why

when I lie on the grass,

it feels like home.

Like two tired souls

just trying to breathe

in a world that never stops taking.

When buying fashionable clothes, whether they are shoes, dresses, t-shirts, or trousers. People often want to buy from brands that are known to be "trendy." One of the biggest parts that influences us to buy from these well-known brands is ..... social media. 

Social media is one of the biggest supporters of fast fashion, often telling us to keep up with brand trends, as it is known to be a symbol of wealth or popularity. But what social media isn't telling is the disconcerting truth about how these brands are manufacturing these clothes. When clothes are being manufactured by fast fashion speed, some brands release up to 52 micro-seasons per year, encouraging overconsumption, which means more clothes. And when there are more clothes, companies use a cheaper solution on how to dye these pieces of clothing, which is by "textile" due to its affordability and affordable prices. Textile dyeing is now the second largest polluter of clean water worldwide because dyeing just 1 kilogram of fabric can use up to 200 liters of water, and many dyes contain harmful substances like lead, arsenic, and even mercury, and all of this releases toxic chemicals into rivers. For example, in countries like Bangladesh and India, rivers near textile factories have turned bright blue, red, or even black due to the mass production of chemicals. Even in the US alone, there are more than 11 million tons of textile waste that end up in landfills, and not to mention, the entire fashion industry produces about 92 million tons of textile waste every year globally. 

Another major problem is carbon emissions. The fashion industry is responsible for 10% of global carbon emissions, which is more than international flights and maritime shipping combined, from the energy used in factories, shipping, and packing. These emissions trap heat in the atmosphere, which can lead to high temperatures. 

After looking at all of this, doesn't it make you think that we need to buy more clothes? It is time to stop chasing foolish trends; it is time we start boycotting companies that do these vile things; it is time we support brands that care for the planet. 

It is time we make a difference, before it's too late.

Visiting a healthcare facility, you soon see how much is thrown away on a daily basis—plastic packaging material, disposable gloves, paper forms, and energy-guzzling equipment. It's all to protect us, but it also makes me ask: are we assisting people at the expense of the Earth? 

I've started to pay attention to the small things when we visit the hospitals. How frequently lights are left on in unoccupied hospital rooms, or how many masks and syringes are discarded after being used a single time. Hygiene and safety, naturally, are not negotiable, but there is still potential for us to do better. For example, going to electronic records reduces paper. Reusable cloth gowns, where possible, eliminate waste. Even getting patients to bring their own bottles of water rather than drinking out of plastic cups can help. 

Outside the clinic, I’ve become more aware of how closely our health is tied to the environment. Air pollution can worsen asthma. Dirty water leads to infections. Climate change increases disease spread. It’s all connected. By protecting the environment, we’re actually protecting ourselves. 

I try to speak about this with friends—not preachy, just in everyday conversations. Like how walking or riding a bike isn't only healthy, it's also healthy for the planet. 

Raising awareness doesn't mean huge changes overnight. It starts with looking inward, small choices that we make every day, and dialogue that bounds from old ways into new ones. My vision is that if we each made even a few thoughtful alterations, the impact would ripple way, way beyond the walls of the clinic—into our houses, our communities, and eventually onto the planet we call home.

It’s a well-known fact that the elite prioritise their own profits over the devastation they wreak upon the planet. They are leeches by all definitions of the word. As such, it barely comes as a surprise when one hears of the recent suppression the Climate Change Movement is receiving.

Since the start of 2025, major shifts have been introduced in government policy of countries around the world. These new policies, backed by powerful billionaires and politicians, aim to dismantle the Climate Change Movement in its entirety. One such example is Project 2025, also referred to as the Global Conservative Agenda, which was set in motion after the election of Trump in the U.S. It is a conservative policy blueprint, funded by billionaires, aiming to dismantle key U.S. environmental laws such as the Endangered Species Act, NEPA and the Antiquities Act. Furthermore, there are plans to limit EPA authority, blocking renewable energy expansion, and eliminating climate mitigation mechanisms from policy discourse. Since the beginning of Trump’s presidency, several policy changes have been rolled out under his authority. He declared a national “energy emergency” which slashed tax incentives for wind and solar, advocating for fossil fuels like coal and natural gas. Research Labs under NOAA and EPA were shut down with vital climate data redacted, resulting in protests by scientists. On January 20th 2025, he officially withdrew the U.S. from the 2015 Paris Agreement and withdrew U.S. representation from the UN Loss and Damage Fund in March.

These events aren’t just isolated incidents from the U.S. Such changes are being observed worldwide. In Brazil, President Lula da Silva passed the “devastation bill”, weakening environmental protections by a substantial degree. It allows projects, related to mining and agribusiness, to receive permits with minimal restrictions and environmental assessment. In Canada, the Premier Danielle Smith (who possesses authority over the Alberta Provincial Government) allowed the lifting of a coal exploration moratorium. This event occurred in January 2025, opening approximately 190,000 ha to new coal projects in Alberta’s sensitive Eastern Slopes region. It was done without the consultation of the public, raising serious risks around water contamination, wildlife habitat destruction, and environmental safety.

This insensitivity and indifference towards the world’s condition isn’t something new. It comes from a time long back, since the emergence of colonialism, when mankind sought to exploit anything and everything within its reach. This colonial mindset has roots deep within the world’s system, laying its rotten stench upon the lives of the innocent. It is seen in Israel’s constant destruction of Gaza, ending countless human lives for their own profit and “development”, destroying land, life and people with no care for the effects on the world. Greta Thunberg, a famous climate activist, used to be a favourite of the Western world. That was until she linked the climate crisis to colonialism, the reason behind the merciless bombardment of Gaza. She was right, of course. Yet they were threatened nonetheless. These crimes, their crimes won’t end. Not until we make a conscious effort to undo this ideology, starting from the root - our minds. 

They say money doesn’t grow on trees, but in today’s world, it might as well. Nature is no longer just a backdrop for human life; it has become something packaged and sold. This is where ecotourism comes in—a form of travel centered on wildlife and natural environments. The term was first introduced by Mexican architect Héctor Ceballos-Lascuráin in 1983, who aimed to minimize the damage tourists cause to nature.

Since then, there has been growing global interest in sustainable travel, and Héctor’s vision has largely been realized. The positive effects of ecotourism are evident worldwide, both economically and environmentally. For instance, Costa Rica earned over $4 billion from ecotourism by 2019, and Namibia saw the populations of endangered black rhinos and elephants triple thanks to conservation efforts supported by ecotourism. 

Ecotourism has also brought significant benefits to people, especially in rural and nature-rich areas where job opportunities are limited. Locals find employment as guides, manage eco-friendly lodges, or sell handcrafted goods, all while contributing to environmental protection. Additionally, ecotourism promotes education and awareness—many tours offer insights into biodiversity, conservation, and local ecosystems, helping visitors and communities alike appreciate the importance of preserving nature. Through these efforts, ecotourism benefits both humans and the planet. 

However, every coin has its two sides. 

Despite its positive goals, ecotourism can sometimes end up harming the environments it seeks to protect. Popular tourist spots often become overcrowded, leading to pollution, destruction of habitats, and stress on wildlife. In response to increased demand, infrastructure such as roads, hotels, and restaurants may be developed rapidly, and if not properly planned, these can damage delicate ecosystems. 

Ecotourism holds incredible promise—it can protect wildlife, support communities, and raise awareness about our planet. But it also comes with real challenges. Without careful management, it risks damaging the very places it celebrates. The future of ecotourism depends on striking a balance between enjoying nature and preserving it, ensuring that both people and the environment can thrive together for years to come.

In our day-to-day lives, we often overlook the impact of our small actions on the environment. Simple habits that have become normal, like using plastic bags Just because it is convenient instead of paper bags or reusable bags, wasting electricity because our comfort comes before carbon and methane in our atmosphere and making our air quality the worst it has ever been, or even throwing trash on the streets just because we are too lazy to find a bin. All of these contribute to larger environmental issues such as pollution and climate change. Raising awareness about these problems is not only the job of environmentalists—it starts with us and our daily habits. 

When we become more conscious, we begin to make better choices. For instance, carrying a reusable water bottle, choosing public transport, or reducing food waste are small actions that have a big impact on our environment. If we start talking about the environmental issues that our world faces every day with family and friends, that can also spread awareness. Schools can play a key role by organizing cleanup drives, planting trees, or promoting recycling programs. Especially if we target the elementary and middle schoolers for it to become a habit from an early age.

Social media is yet another strong tool we can utilize to save our world. Backing green campaigns can impact a lot of people; it can even make a trend. Each step, however small, still counts towards a healthier planet. Looking back at these actions reveals that taking care of the environment does not need to be a big deal—it is in our everyday habits, conscious decisions, and sense of accountability. By being observant and influencing others, we can all be part of the solution and keep our world safe for ourselves and for our generations to come.