WILTING HIBISCUS

Dorothy Lamour places a flower behind her ear and a tropical film dynasty is born. Along with my parents I loved to watch oldies, from light, slapstick with Bing Crosby, Lamour, and Bob Hope to more sophisticated fare, e.g. My Man Godfrey to film noir, foreign films and classic drama, lots of drama. Television series on PBS were also a  mainstay, as with Paul Scott's Jewel in the Crown otherwise known as The Raj Quartet. I have vague memories of the "Road" movies but strong impressions from The Jewel in the Crown mini-series. Complete scenes from that story continue to haunt me. Part IV of the quartet, A Division of Spoils, chronicles the partition of Pakistan. The extraction and death of  the Muslim, Ahmed Kasim, from a train by rioters seems as new to me as if I'd seen the moment yesterday. Kasim's resignation, self-sacrifice and his friends' shock, awe underscore what can be seen in world news today--that same fight over territory in the name of religion, entitlement, overpopulation or greed.

The strife that elicits a groaning pit in my stomach, pulls me back to center, goes back to the basics. Aboriginals believe the land doesn't belong to man.We, as part of Mother Earth, have been given this gift for which we should revere and feel blessed, not pollute or destroy. What's worse is these land grabs, never-ending throughout history, continue; those caught in the crossfire are sacrificed or forced to sacrifice themselves to shield their loved ones from the conflicts. Politicos, zealots and modern robber barons see land as a commodity that warrants any means to take it or defend it. Like looking down from the highest skyscrapers, human beings'  and the environment's needs are unimportant to these so-called leaders for they see humans as dispensable dwellers among valuable properties and resources.

Animals are even more expendable. Putin may have his private zoo, but I'd bet he would be deafened to cries to save wildlife obliterated by oil exploration in Russia or Russia's role in the succession of Crimea and the Ukraine. To be "fair," this position would be true of most world leaders, including the U.S. Four years ago, you may remember an oil rig explosion in the Gulf of Mexico which killed platform workers. The resulting oil spill had a far-reaching, ecological impact which oddly has been second stage to the economic consequences. No, I'm not saying we should put wildlife above people's livelihoods, only that the environment should be on the same plane. For without open, unpolluted land, breathable air, clean water, a link to our food chain, we, humans, will have lost our souls, our connection to our Mother.

Then there are the flowers. I've never paid much attention to certain varieties such as the hibiscus though I live among a floral tapestry. Yesterday, at work, I was asked to water the plants and shrubs that are sold along with farm produce to locals. I went about my business when a hibiscus blossom, almost in full bloom yet tired, dropped in my path from a shrub I was about to replenish. My first thought: I could put the lovely pink "beauty" behind my ear, like Dorothy Lamour before my boyfriend's visit later. Funny, I'd forgotten that hibiscus were often used in leis or put behind one's ear in Hawaii and the Pacific islands to symbolize if taken or available (right or left). I brought home the "delicate" treasure and put the flower in a glass of water.

My boyfriend got delayed and didn't arrive until much later. I ditched my plan to greet him dressed in a floral blouse and white, cotton, flowing skirt, the bold hibiscus behind my ear--for those curious romantics, I would have chosen my right ear. We went to an outdoor spot and had pizza. By the time we returned to my apartment, the hibiscus had begun to droop.

The next day, the shrub or plant--grown throughout the world--has meant more than just romantic decoration. For me, it also symbolizes what nature has given us and how we should treasure it. However, my pink hibiscus fooled me, lured me into a paradise that began disappearing long ago. Realities, not only of love but of life have tumbled in my head. Like a movie stage set with Dorothy Lamour standing in her sarong, her hair up and the flower behind her right ear (the wrong one), the fantasy has begun to dissipate into a distant memory.

As with a wilting hibiscus, I'm afraid our fragile world, our Mother Earth is tired, too spent to provide even our basic needs or to tolerate much more. My wish for our global community is that our leaders stop playing partisan politics, "taking sides," until they are at least well-informed about the facts and the long term effects they have on every natural strata of our planet. Those who have dominion over our precious earth, please read and digest this plea: like the fragile hibiscus, living things, from the smallest plants and creatures to the largest animals, including human families, have and continue to wither, wilt and die because of war and neglect. They need your protection, your reverence, not your destruction.