The monsoon is wonderful this year, especially in Delhi. The city has turned green and resplendent. Recently, surveying changing consumption patterns of Isapur Sarki, a tiny village in the innards on Uttar Pradesh, I saw how intimately monsoon caresses the bare earth. Every dry patch sprung the brightest of greens in almost a matter of seconds, filling the background of every photograph with the fresh green of newborns. But there were also things that bothered me about Isapur Sarki. The lack of cohesiveness among its women, the need for motorcycles despite the fact that cycles can provide a good eco friendly alternative and the rising need to wear and use expensive items not made locally. The young Tharu brigade of cycle-savvy-girls of Don Forest, West Champaran, Bihar (Cover Story, GnY, March-April 2008) came to my mind - how simple they seemed in comparison to the pampered lot that stood before me. Yet, in my heart I knew that consumerism has a way of insidiously entering our lives. Even the most frugal environmentalist is not free from the vice of consumerism. It is futile idealism to expect people to live out of their soil when the glitzy city and its slick dreams beckon the most steadfast of village folk. Tempered with an understanding of what such infinite wants can do to our environment would pave the way to sustainability perhaps, but as things are today, it is just wishful thinking. For our farmers, I hope, let the brown earth yield unendingly.