Our Children Pay For Our Hunger
- Madhukar Dama
- Aug 29
- 7 min read
I have watched the world with patient eyes.
I have seen how life moves in circles.
The tree gives leaf, shade, fruit, and root.
The cow eats grass, but her dung grows more grass.
The ant breaks the soil, makes it breathe.
The bird eats fruit and plants the seed elsewhere.
The tiger kills, but its kill feeds the vultures, the insects, the soil.
Every being adds.
Every being contributes.
Every being leaves the world stronger than it found it.
Except man.
I am man. I belong to the only species that takes without giving.
I belong to the only species that finds cleverer ways to take more quickly, more deeply, more recklessly than the generation before.
And because of this, I belong to the only species that makes life harder for its own children.
---
Food
When I eat, I eat more than my hunger.
I waste more than I consume.
My food comes wrapped in plastic that will not vanish in a thousand years.
The child who eats tomorrow will still find my wrapper in his soil.
But look at the honeybee.
It gathers nectar, but in the gathering it pollinates flowers.
It feeds itself, but it multiplies the food available for every future creature, including its own young.
My taking leaves poison; the bee’s taking leaves abundance.
Affirmation: eat only what sustains, grow what gives back, waste nothing.
---
Water
When I drink, I drink water borrowed from a child.
I poison rivers with sewage, industry, and chemicals.
I lower the groundwater table faster than the rains can fill it.
I bottle rivers into profit and sell them back to the thirsty.
The child will drink my poison.
The child will carry the weight of my thirst.
But look at the elephant.
It digs with its tusks in dry land to find hidden water.
It drinks, but in doing so it opens wells for other animals, and for its calves.
My thirst leaves deserts; the elephant’s thirst leaves springs.
Affirmation: use water as trust, not as possession. Leave wells fuller than you found them.
---
Air
When I breathe, I breathe freely, but I leave the air dirty.
I burn coal, oil, and forests to power my comforts.
I fill the sky with gases that do not vanish.
The child will breathe my smoke.
The child will cough my progress.
But look at the tree.
It breathes too — but it breathes in my poison and gives back oxygen.
Every breath it takes is a promise to its seedlings.
My breathing poisons my child; the tree’s breathing nourishes its saplings.
Affirmation: plant more than you burn. Breathe like a tree, not like a furnace.
---
Time
When I live, I steal time from children.
I fill their days with schedules, tuitions, exams, and preparations.
I rob them of play, of silence, of boredom where imagination grows.
I mortgage their childhood to satisfy my ambitions.
I leave them with a life where even rest feels like guilt.
But look at the lioness.
She hunts so her cubs can rest.
She guards so her cubs can play freely.
My ambition steals my child’s time; her strength gifts her cubs more time.
Affirmation: give children unmeasured hours, silence, and freedom. Protect their play as sacred.
---
Land
When I build, I build on their inheritance.
I cut forests, flatten hills, dry wetlands.
I spread concrete where there was once soil.
I lock land into ownership, deeds, and fences.
The child has no commons left to roam.
But look at the earthworm.
It eats soil, but in eating, it loosens and enriches the land.
Its tunnels allow roots to grow stronger for the next season, for its own offspring.
My building suffocates land; the worm’s burrowing revives it for its young.
Affirmation: protect commons, leave land fertile, treat soil as inheritance.
---
Energy
When I move, I burn fuel.
When I light, I burn fuel.
When I manufacture, I burn fuel.
Every comfort of mine is heat added to the child’s tomorrow.
The storms, the floods, the droughts — these are not mine.
These belong to the child who has no voice in today’s bargain.
But look at the salmon.
It spends enormous energy to swim upstream, only to lay eggs.
Its death becomes food for rivers, forests, and its own fry.
My energy burns away the child’s world; the salmon’s energy sustains its children’s world.
Affirmation: spend energy for renewal, not for exhaustion.
---
Knowledge
Even in knowledge, I take.
I fill children with information that does not nourish.
I prepare them for jobs in economies that are already collapsing.
I do not teach them how to grow food, how to mend, how to live lightly.
I pass down tools for survival in the market,
but I do not pass down tools for survival in life.
But look at the sparrow.
It teaches its chick how to fly, how to sing, how to find grain.
It passes skills that guarantee life, not illusions.
My knowledge fills minds but empties lives; the sparrow’s knowledge fills lives with survival.
Affirmation: teach what sustains life, not what sustains markets alone.
---
Relationships
Even in love, I take.
I expect children to care for me in old age while I gave them polluted earth in their youth.
I expect them to obey, to honor, to serve,
but I forget to honor them with a world worth living in.
But look at the penguin.
It shields its chick against the storm, fasting for weeks, sacrificing its own body weight to feed the young.
My love demands repayment; the penguin’s love is repayment itself.
Affirmation: let love be gift, not transaction. Care for children without asking repayment.
---
Wealth
When I gather wealth, I gather it from their future.
I cut forests for profit, I mine mountains for metal, I poison rivers for growth.
The profit shows in my account, the loss shows in the child’s horizon.
The economy celebrates my hunger, but the ecology condemns the child to pay.
But look at the squirrel.
It gathers nuts, but in hiding them it plants forests for its young.
What it saves enriches the land; what I save impoverishes it.
My wealth depletes tomorrow; the squirrel’s wealth grows tomorrow.
Affirmation: wealth should be seed, not debt. Gather in ways that multiply for the future.
---
Technology
Even my inventions betray them.
I invent faster machines, cheaper gadgets, brighter screens.
I call it advancement, but it is mostly acceleration of taking.
The child inherits batteries that poison soil,
screens that devour attention,
and machines that need more fuel than forests can provide.
But look at the spider.
It spins web after web, but the silk is biodegradable.
Its design captures food and leaves no waste.
My inventions burden children; the spider’s invention nourishes children.
Affirmation: let invention imitate nature — useful, cyclical, harmless.
---
Culture
Even my culture is tilted.
I glorify consumption as success.
I mock simplicity as backward.
I teach children to desire endlessly, to measure worth by what they own.
I baptize greed as ambition,
and the child grows with a hunger even before he has eaten.
But look at the wolf pack.
It teaches its young cooperation, patience, and sharing of the hunt.
Its culture makes survival easier for pups.
My culture exhausts my child; the wolf’s culture strengthens its cub.
Affirmation: teach children restraint, sharing, and humility. Build a culture that strengthens, not exhausts.
---
The Final Truth
Every other species leaves the earth richer for its living.
Man alone leaves it poorer.
And worse — man himself does not carry the full burden.
He shifts the burden forward.
The child pays the bill for the father’s appetite.
---
My Responsibility
I must stop taking as if the child does not exist.
I must give back — to soil, to water, to air, to time, to land, to relationships, to culture.
I must live so that my children inherit something lighter, not heavier.
I want to live like the bee, the elephant, the tree, the lioness, the worm, the salmon, the sparrow, the penguin, the squirrel, the spider, the wolf.
I want my life to enrich what comes after me.
I want my hunger to end with me, not to be carried by the child.
---
Closing
Children should inherit abundance, not debt.
Children should inherit silence, not noise.
Children should inherit freedom, not schedules.
Children should inherit soil, not concrete.
Children should inherit rivers, not drains.
Children should inherit air, not smoke.
Children should inherit seeds, not hunger.
If I live rightly, my child will not pay for my hunger.
If I live wrongly, no wealth, no progress, no invention will erase the truth:
Children pay for our hunger.
Children Pay for Our Hunger
the pigeon picks crumbs in the street
feeds its young before itself.
nature affirms: give first, take later.
I buy more bread than I eat
and throw it stale.
the turtle lays a thousand eggs,
gives the sea a chance to breathe more life.
every act is a gift forward.
I pour cement on the shore,
block tomorrow with walls.
the bat teaches its young the night sky,
shares the map of stars.
nothing is kept secret in nature.
I light the sky with wires,
steal the stars from my child’s eyes.
the buffalo grazes and moves on,
grass grows taller for the calf.
every step is renewal.
I strip the field bare,
leave cracked earth
for my son to plough.
the stork returns each spring,
carrying the rhythm of time.
it restores hope to the land.
I burn the air with flights of leisure,
leave storms as inheritance.
the frog sings to the rain,
its chorus awakens ponds.
life multiplies from its voice.
I choke rivers with poison,
leave silence for my daughter.
the hen scratches the ground,
teaches chicks where to find food.
skills are inheritance.
I hand my child a packet,
a glowing screen,
and call it wisdom.
the whale nurses her calf
with milk richer than the sea.
strength is given, not borrowed.
I give my child debts,
paper wealth,
and call it security.
the fox buries leftovers,
seeds grow where it forgets.
waste becomes tomorrow’s forest.
I bury plastic,
leave a thousand years of rot.
the crane builds its nest with patience,
every stick placed for safety.
care is construction for the next.
I build fast,
leave cracks,
pass down mortgages instead of shelter.
the wild dog hunts together,
shares meat,
no pup goes hungry.
I hoard,
lock the gate,
leave hunger outside for another’s child.
and still—
every other species affirms life.
every act enriches what comes after.
only man turns the wheel backward,
takes without giving,
eats the seed meant for the next.
children pay for our hunger.
that is the simple truth.
and until we learn to give
as the pigeon,
as the turtle,
as the whale,
as the ant—
our children will keep paying.
