In a quiet corner of rural India, where mustard fields sway in rhythm with the wind and electricity flickers as often as hope, a different kind of climate action is unfolding—not with slogans or placards, but with paper and pen.
“Dear Nature, we are sorry. We took you for granted.”
This was not the voice of a global leader, a scientist, or an activist on a world stage. It came from a child, seated on the floor of a government school in Pratapgarh, who wrote with trembling hands and an open heart.
Welcome to Ek Patra Prakriti Ke Naam—A Letter to Nature, a youth-led initiative rooted in empathy and honesty. Over 11,000 children from across India, many from its most rural corners, are putting their feelings into ink—writing letters to Mother Nature in a campaign that has quietly become one of the most heartfelt environmental actions of our time.
A Generation That Writes What We Forgot to Say
Where policy meetings often stumble over jargon and activism sometimes shouts past ears, these children have chosen a quieter language—the ancient, almost sacred act of letter writing. It’s a language of vulnerability, reflection, and intent. And in that, it becomes not just a campaign but an emotional reckoning.
Some letters ask forgiveness. Others offer promises: to plant a tree, to pick up plastic, to switch off lights. Some are confessions. A few are poems. All are acts of truth-telling.
One student wrote, “I realized today that you gave us rivers, we filled them with poison. You gave us trees, we cut them for buildings. Please don’t give up on us.”
This isn’t a climate protest in the traditional sense. It is an awakening—born in schoolrooms and shaped by young hands—that demands no permission to feel.
From Rural India to the World
The initiative, launched by Nature Green Future Trust and Udaan Youth Club, is part of India’s Mission LiFE (Lifestyle for Environment). But beyond policy alignment, this movement carries something even more potent—belonging.
It was inaugurated in the heart of Pratapgarh, Uttar Pradesh, at schools like Dolphin Public School and Composite Vidyalaya Gheenapur Dumdum, where students wrote letters not for grades or certificates, but because their hearts had something to say. They came from dusty lanes and clay homes, from communities where environmental education often arrives last, but where love for the land is inherited first.
It is led by two young changemakers—Sundaram Tiwari from Pratapgarh and Aman Kumar from Baghpat—both recipients of the State Youth Award by the Government of Uttar Pradesh. Their grassroots vision reminds us that leadership doesn’t need microphones; sometimes, it only needs a mailbox.
Teachers as Witnesses to Change
Importantly, this movement isn’t fueled only by youthful energy—it’s cradled by a community. Teachers stood beside the students, not above them. “This wasn’t a competition,” said Principal Manoj Tiwari, “it was the children’s own sensitivity taking flight.” Educator Gayatri Tripathi added, “You can’t teach empathy from textbooks. You have to help children feel it themselves.”
A dedicated teaching team—Praveen Singh, Shiv Shankar Nigam, Sarvesh Singh, and Prakhar Shukla—helped make this campaign not just possible, but deeply human.
The Movement Grows
This quiet revolution is no longer confined to a few schools. Prestigious institutions like Hansraj College of Delhi University, organizations like Mera Yuva Bharat (MY Bharat), and the Samriddh Sanskriti Foundation have joined hands. Using Google Forms, children across India are submitting their letters—each entry a pixel in a larger portrait of conscience.
Every child receives a digital certificate, not as a token, but as a reminder that your voice matters. These letters will not collect dust. They will be shared with the Prime Minister’s Office and will get published across social media platforms, amplifying the unheard wisdom of a generation not yet old enough to vote—but more than ready to care.
June 5th: A Collective Salutation to Nature
On World Environment Day, 5 June 2025, these 11,000 letters will be ceremoniously sent—not just to the PMO, but to the global conscience. They are not meant to guilt but to gently wake us up.
Because somewhere between negotiations, headlines, and despair, we forgot to speak gently to the very Earth we inhabit. And now, the youngest among us are writing what we all should have said long ago.
Because the next Greta might not carry a sign. She might carry a letter. And that letter could be the beginning of a new conversation—not just with governments, but with our own hearts.
