India, June 8 -- At eleven at night, a city never truly sleeps.

A young professional sits in a high-rise apartment, bathed in the cold blue light of a screen. Notifications cascade in - messages, deadlines, the relentless percussion of a digitally tethered life. Outside the window, however, a different kind of signal is being transmitted. A tree strains under an unseasonable summer.

A river carries plastic to the sea. The air - heavier, hotter, more toxic - presses against the glass. Unlike our devices, the Earth does not vibrate or ring. Yet its distress signals, for those willing to receive them, are no longer subtle.

Psychologists and ecologists speak of a modern affliction: ecological loneliness - the quiet desolation that settles ...