I've never been one to follow the news. My reasoning was simple: if something terrible is happening out there and I can't control it or change it, maybe it's better for my mental health not to dwell on it. But lately, I've found myself drawn in. And a question has been lingering in my head: are we, as humans, both the arsonists and the firefighters?
On the large scale, it shows up in wars, tariffs and famine. Closer to daily life, it's there in unliveable cities, polluted air, poverty, the lack of kindness and the quiet dislike we often direct toward other living creatures. And as I doomscroll through social media, the algorithm keeps nudging me toward the inhumane things we do to our environment. It's uncomfortable, yet difficult to look away.
Dogs are what I keep coming back to abandoned and strays, perhaps because I love dogs. To me they are the epitome of selflessness, though many see them as a menace that have no right to live in a city, they should be put down to keep the cities clean. But then there are so many amazing organisations and people in Bangalore and I'm sure the world over, pouring their energy into caring for them and trying to solve a problem we created in the first place.
Pigeons tell a similar story. I've heard them dismissed as "rats in the sky," yet I recently learned they are one of the few non-mammals that can recognise themselves in a mirror, they have a built in GPS system. How did they end up in our cities in such large numbers? We forget that we brought them here, when we needed them but now they are also a Menace!
And then there are the bigger questions. Why is the air so polluted? Why do floods feel inevitable every year? In many ways, we start the fires and then spend our days trying to put them out. We lament pollution, but continue to embrace convenience. We complain about the pace of city life, but we also feed the systems that demand it.
The same pattern seems to play out in our personal lives. We push ourselves in the pursuit of comfort and wealth, neglecting sleep and exercise, and then try to buy wellness fixes. We avoid looking at our finances until debt forces us into panic. We neglect our relationships until they reach a breaking point.
It makes me wonder if we should be asking different questions. Not just how to put out the fire, but whether we're the ones striking the match. Maybe the real work is less about firefighting and more about noticing what could ignite before it does. The quiet, unglamorous work of prevention the small choices that feel ordinary in the moment but save us from chaos later.
These are rough thoughts I scribbled down on a flight from Riyadh to Bangalore. Not conclusions, just reminders I'm trying to hold for myself reminders that maybe we all need.
Because Oops to Opportunity is not only about looking back at our failures, but also about noticing the places where we can make a difference, however small, and choosing not to strike the match in the first place.