by Ayesha Gajre

Whether it is that generations of us grew up with ‘Twinkle twinkle little star’ to lull us to sleep or that we are chemically made of the same substances as stars, the human species and the stars have been entwined inextricably since the dawn of our existence. Stars are pretty, to say the least. And so, in the last centuries, we have created telescopes, binoculars, observatories and all sorts of things to take in their cosmic grandeur. Clusters of pearly white speckles gleaming in void black skies pertaining to something much more significant and vast than us. 

Although as stunning as a clear night sky can be, our interest in them has extended far beyond their beauty. Their purposes expand across the frontiers of both science and religion. They have been necessary for our survival. For most of humanity, the forge and dissolution of our days have been marked by the rise and fall of the stars closest to us. They have guided sailors, explorers, and adventurers with an inbuilt navigation system leading them to greater lands. We have created names, stories, and shapes and alluded them to our gods and goddesses. They have taught us about the universe beyond the confines of the earth’s atmosphere. They have shown how hydrogen, helium, and gravity interact to create light and hint at where we came from and where we might go.

Yet when was the last time you went stargazing? In fact, when was the last time you could even see stars in the sky? With the combination of how criminally infrequent our appreciation for these celestial bodies has become and skyrocketing levels of light pollution, it is becoming increasingly difficult for stars to persist in the state we once knew them in. The harsh lighting in urban cities has been steadily, but surely, drowning out the stars, causing a dramatic fall in the number of stars that can be seen with the naked eye. 

As a gift to the future generations to come, in the form of peace, inspiration, and vastness, I implore mankind to kindly leave the illumination to the stars.