That’s the word that comes to my mind when I look at the place I live in. Fresh remorse swamps through me as I look at my battered self, stuck between the core and the mantle, iron in me ready to lose its orientation and succumb to Earth’s cruelty. Not far off, my friends dance to the planet’s tunes, splashing around the axis duteously. Crushed by the mantle, sizzled by the iron core’s heat and spun by Earth’s rotation, we live quite actively for three billion-year olds.
Dwelling under the tip of South Africa, I am part of a very large field that is sandwiched between Earth’s crust and the core. Below, solid iron whose fury is yet to abate churns nonchalantly. Occasionally, anger oozes out of its iron sphere, causing the mantle above me to bobble in response. All my life I have been the core’s envoy for transferring its temper to the mantle. All of us have. My ancestors say the core needs to get rid of excess heat or else the consequences can be devastating.
I say why generate heat when you can’t hold it in? Why pass on the heat to the poor mantle? And why us?
I have come to accept the fact that I shall never find out the answers. We are never allowed to ask such questions. The core snarls. We concede to its tantrums. The mantle rages. We succumb to its restlessness. We were taught to be submissive and questioning is foreign to us. We splash around in vengeance, hoping to drain out our frustration for being put in the crosshairs.
Earth, however, manages to extract obedience from our resentment as well. The magnetic field in us aligns itself parallel to the axis, a procession ready to oblige. Earth’s rotation makes sure it stays that way. The rotation, the alignment, our life, its perfect. Much too perfect for my liking. I can’t even remember the last time we reversed. The last time we chuckled at the bewildered humans trying to find their way-the wrong way. Earth was disgusted, we were happy.
It is high time we allowed some fun to seep through into our lives.
I, along with some others across the globe, reverse slowly, cautiously. Going against the tide quickly draws attention. Thanks to the solar flare prowling the planets, Earth is busy guarding its inhabitants from destruction. Soon, the dark space would light up from the flare and showered upon by the charged particles. It would take Earth all its energy to protect its species. Until then, its little reign is ours to rule.
Soon, the older magnetic fields would start moving towards the poles, lessening it of its strength. The pole directions would then exchange places, each relieved to forsake its past and be on the move. I wonder what they’ll see. Though there is not much difference from one pole to another, it is still another end of our tiny world.
It was a long journey before the poles could finally reverse. We had to make sure we don’t kill the dynamo, and that meant thousands of years of careful shifting. The migration and utter chaos was quite apparent in the multiple poles that formed out of the blue. Soon, though, we were ready.
We renounced our orientations in pieces of rocks for the curious to look at. To wonder. We now settle in our new positions, happy and content to face a new direction, a fresh start.