Between Mist and Mud: Darjeeling’s Silent Reckoning

     We never know what might fall upon us in the blink of an eye — whether we will survive or meet our end; whether we can escape the rage and unsettling dust of Mother Nature. Questions after questions storm our minds with no answers. But on 5th Oct 2025, in a landslide at Darjeeling due to heavy rain, 28 people (numbers may vary as rescue operations continue) had these questions answered, and countless others got reality-driven reminders as they witnessed Mother Nature letting them live a little longer in their deluded world.

We often think that whatever sins we commit, we will one day repent. Yet, we keep these thoughts to ourselves instead of actually implementing change in our lives. We let go of responsibilities that weigh us down, because in our busy day-to-day lives, we don’t want the constant reminder to care for our Mother Nature, just as she cares for us. Had we done so, she might never have unleashed her rage upon us — the rage of relentless rain and landslides, taking away the lives of people in the Mirik region and the outskirts of Jalpaiguri, many of whom had yet to see the whole world, or had seen only parts of it.

When I heard the news, the depiction was so visceral that I could almost hear the unheard shouts of people, the mud flowing, and the mountains screaming in the vicinity of roads and bridges. Countless families were forced into temporary shelters, torn away from their favorite memories, beloved homes, and clothes.  

Darjeeling landslide aftermath: roads, bridges, and villages damaged.
Image source: Hindustan Times / via news reports.

As depicted in the picture, several roads are blocked by mud and rocks. The Dudia Iron Bridge over the Balason River, which connects Siliguri and Mirik, has been destroyed, trapping passersby on it. Several roads to remote villages are also cut off. Heavy rainfall has continued since Saturday, further delaying rescue operations.

As you read, many have been found, but many are still lost—lost to a mother’s rage: the earth that gives us undying, unending love, yet receives so little care in return. Many villagers remain cut off from their own families, stranded and isolated. Tourists witnessed the fury of Mother Nature—a scene that has sadly become common, born of our carelessness and indifference.

Mud and stone, a mother’s cry,
Her rivers roar, her mountains sigh.
We wander blind, she bends and breaks,
Yet none of us lift hands for her sakes.

Homes swallowed, paths erased,
Families lost, time misplaced.
Her fury, a mirror, of love we betray,
The earth we tread, we push away.

Hear her whisper in the rain,
A plea, a warning, a lingering pain.
Rise, awaken, before she sleeps,
For even Mother tires of the grief she keeps.

#WakeupIndia How long will we keep pretending we are not lost? How long will we claim to strive, when everything we love—and live for—is at stake? Wake up, India. It’s time to realize how late we are to the rescue, how much time we’ve wasted chasing worldly pleasures while draining the energy of our Mother.