<commit_before>---
layout: post
title: "Letter from an Ailing Planet"
categories: articles
excerpt: Did you ever receive a letter from your mother that truly establishes that you have abandoned her n the strands of agony whose knots were tied by you? Well yes, you did because it was the letter from our Mother Earth, our creator how is right now in pain.
author: ankit
image: 
  feature: ailingearth.jpg
date: 2016-09-30T00:10:15+05:30
---
<iframe width="420" height="315"
src="https://www.youtube.com/v/90CkXVF-Q8M">
</iframe>

__My dear Children__


Hope you are enjoying the soulvaki in Greece, spaghetti in Itlay, tacos in Mexico, sushi in Japan and other rich cuisines as you lay in your bed with your family in your bedrooms. I don’t mean to mean it mean but this could probably be the last letter I write to you. Seldom did I receive a reply for my previous letters, except the ones when you cried in unison at the haughtiness of the Little Boy and Fat Boy and believe me,if you will, I too cried rivers then.


You know I’ve grown old and weak now, and this pain cripples me. Not so long ago, I addressed you a piece of annoying text when the first chimney poked out of London’s skyline and coughed out black clouds of ‘bad air’. I thought to display anger and disgust but it died as a mute protest in my bones, for you’re my beloved and I didn’t want to discourage you.<commit_msg>changes player from flash to html5<commit_after>---
layout: post
title: "Letter from an Ailing Planet"
categories: articles
excerpt: Did you ever receive a letter from your mother that truly establishes that you have abandoned her n the strands of agony whose knots were tied by you? Well yes, you did because it was the letter from our Mother Earth, our creator how is right now in pain.
author: ankit
image: 
  feature: ailingearth.jpg
date: 2016-09-30T00:10:15+05:30
---
<iframe width="420" height="315"
src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/90CkXVF-Q8M">
</iframe>

__My dear Children__


Hope you are enjoying the soulvaki in Greece, spaghetti in Itlay, tacos in Mexico, sushi in Japan and other rich cuisines as you lay in your bed with your family in your bedrooms. I don’t mean to mean it mean but this could probably be the last letter I write to you. Seldom did I receive a reply for my previous letters, except the ones when you cried in unison at the haughtiness of the Little Boy and Fat Boy and believe me,if you will, I too cried rivers then.


You know I’ve grown old and weak now, and this pain cripples me. Not so long ago, I addressed you a piece of annoying text when the first chimney poked out of London’s skyline and coughed out black clouds of ‘bad air’. I thought to display anger and disgust but it died as a mute protest in my bones, for you’re my beloved and I didn’t want to discourage you.
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