Orphaned Before They Could Fly

Asem Mustafa Awan

Islamabad: The first thing that catches the eye is not the nest. It is the tiny red mouths. Wide open. Waiting. Calling.

Believing that somewhere above them, a mother or father will return carrying food, as they have done every day since these fragile lives emerged from their shells.

But the trees that once sheltered this family are gone.

This photograph is not simply about baby storks. It is about what happens when development forgets that cities are shared not only by people but by every creature that has learned to call them home.

Across Karachi, road expansion and urban construction have transformed skylines. Progress is often measured in kilometres of asphalt and widening roads. Far less attention is paid to the silent cost paid by those that cannot appear before a camera or file a complaint.

When mature trees disappear, nests disappear with them.

Parents are forced into panic. Some relocate if they can. Others circle helplessly above landscapes they no longer recognise. The youngest are left behind, too small to fly and too hungry to survive on hope alone.

Read More: Their cries go unheard beneath the roar of machinery.

Pakistan has witnessed too many moments when voiceless creatures have become symbols of neglect. The lonely elephant Kaavan spent decades in isolation before the world intervened. Images of an injured camel stirred outrage far beyond our borders. Flamingos that travelled thousands of kilometres seeking refuge found death instead of sanctuary.

Now these nestlings join that painful catalogue.

None of them understands road maps, development plans or official approvals. They know only one truth: hunger.

Every few minutes they lift their heads and open their beaks, trusting an instinct that has sustained birds for millions of years.

Nature keeps its promise.

Humans sometimes do not.

No city becomes modern simply because its roads grow wider. A truly modern city learns how to protect life while it builds for the future. Development and conservation are not rivals. They are partners, and when one is ignored, the other loses its meaning.

Perhaps the saddest part of this photograph is that these chicks are still waiting.

They have not yet realised that the tree they called home has already been taken away.

And sometimes, the greatest tragedy is not that nature cannot survive without us.

It is that we make it impossible for nature to survive with us.