and beaches and the fishing communities that lived on the coast.

I provided a doorway to your islands for numerous ships bringing in voyagers, traders and invaders. You soon transformed into an important port and so did my shoreline as land was reclaimed to connect the islands.

Travellers and lovers, tired office-goers and lonely retirees, families and friends all seek out the solace of a quiet evening at my shore, along beaches or promenades or on the fort ramparts that line the coast, watching sunsets and absorbing the sounds of my waves crashing along rocky edges.

However, over time, my pristine waters have turned murky and the corals and marine life I nurture are destroyed by the oils, chemical and plastic pollution that is ejected into my waters.

As I cradle you in my embrace, I often reminisce over our inseparable connection and wonder, in today's fast changing world, what the future has in store for us...

Yours,
The Arabian Sea SEE LESS

protected by a fringe of humble mangroves.

My presence in the city is discreet and hence I am often ignored or misunderstood. Few know that I am a coastal ecosystem with a rich biodiversity, a nutrient rich breeding ground for fish, crabs, molluscs and sea turtles, a home for migratory birds. I also function as a carbon sink and a source of livelihood to local fishermen. My most important role to the city however, is that of a coastal barrier against flooding, which is a constant threat today due to climate change.
My existence is often threatened by dumping of debris and illegal building activities. My extents are diminishing due to the infrastructure mega-projects in the city. We could be heading to a time when I completely vanish from your coastline, leaving the city vulnerable to natural disasters. Till then, I stand guard, my roots wrapped in plastic waste, my waters reduced to sludge.

My vigil for my city continues...

Yours,
Mumbai Mangroves SEE LESS

and then the British, all had a keen interest in your salt pans. My vast swathes of low lying land are located in the flood plains of the islands and envelope the coast like a ribbon of white fabric.

Do you remember the historic Salt March in 1930 and the vital role you and I played in this event? The satyagrahis faced lathi charges and arrests but managed to make a huge dent in the British Raj. Even today, there are communities engaged in livelihoods in my vast plains, extracting salt from the pans in the wee hours of the morning in order to avoid the heat, humming folk songs along the way.

Do you know that a large part of my land is being eyed for development? Most of us don’t know that salt pans provide the last frontier to floods because of their enormous water carrying capacity. I am also home to several bird and insect species that thrive in my saline environment. If I cease to exist, the environmental issues for the city will compound. Do you worry? Well, I do.

Yours,
Dahisar Saltpans SEE LESS