Praisen. V
I EEE
I was once a cute water bottle, eagerly bought and adopted by humans, and it made me feel so happy. They carried me with them throughout their journey, and I felt so valuable to them. In times of emergency, I provided water, offering refreshment and relief. I felt like a small pet nestled under their arm, touched and kissed while they drank, hugged, and kept close. I was more than just an object – I was their partner.
But then, suddenly, it happened. The human drank all the water from me, drained me completely, and with no warning, they gave me a huge punch to my head as if I were nothing. The force felt like a thunderstorm, like being crushed by a machine. I was utterly flattened, thrown carelessly into the trash bin. The pain was unbearable – it felt like being abandoned by a partner I had loved and cared for.
I lay there, confused, wondering what had just happened. The person who had once treated me so kindly had discarded me like I was useless. Did I do something wrong? Did they simply not need me anymore? Had they just broken up with me?
I cried, though no tears came, and with a small glimmer of hope, I closed my eyes. After some time, someone came. His clothes were dirty, his body weak. He carried a large bag on his shoulder. People called him a rag-picker, but to me, he was like a saviour. He was ready to give me another chance at life.
This man, my saviour, placed me gently in his bag. At that moment, I realized this was where I truly belonged. Inside that bag, I saw many other bottles like me, all in similar states of despair. Some were crushed, others broken, all abandoned by the very humans who once depended on them. Yet, I wasn’t alone. I met others who understood my pain and shared their stories. They showed me kindness, humility, and love, as though I were family.
At that moment, I realized: that this was my place. I wasn’t discarded; I was just waiting for my second chance. I asked one of the bottles, “Why are we in this cruel situation?” He replied, “It’s because of humans. The ones who created us, the ones who use us, and the ones who throw us away when we’re no longer useful.”
Our journey didn’t end there. We were sent to a plastic recycling factory, but it wasn’t a place of salvation – it felt like a doorway to hell. We were crushed, melted, and transformed into something new, but in a brutal way.
Humans called it the recycling process, but to us, it felt more like destruction. Our beautiful shape and structure were gone, and now, in liquid form, we were being moulded into something else – perhaps furniture, plastic water cans, or light bulbs. We were recycled, but it didn’t feel like a second chance; it felt like we were being used again for their convenience.And that’s when I understood. I realized my true purpose in the human world. Humans use me, but they don’t care about me. Even when I’m recycled, I’m never truly gone. I last for hundreds of years, creating pollution and harm to the planet. I’ve become a silent cause of environmental damage, affecting wildlife, ecosystems, and even human health.
Now, I see the truth. I’m part of the waste that’s poisoning the Earth. The humans who threw me away will eventually face the consequences of their actions. The real problem isn’t some distant punishment—it’s the harm that’s already being done. And I, the discarded plastic, am a reminder of that reality.
