The North East is drowning and instead of fighting the disaster together, some people are fighting, arguing, blaming each other. Floods and landslides do not recognize state borders. A river flowing through Nagaland does not stop before entering Assam. Rain over Arunachal Pradesh can flood communities hundreds of kilometers downstream. Yet, whenever disaster strikes, we respond as eight separate states, even though we share the same mountains, rivers and climate crisis. Remember, climate crisis. That is a problem I want to talk about today. The monsoon in Northeast India was once celebrated as a season of green hills, waterfalls and clouds descending over villages. not anymore. For many of us, the monsoon has become something to survive. Assam's devastating floods in 2022 and now, Sikkim's glacial lake outburst in 2023, half-long railway station buried under mud, landslides across Mizoram, Arunachal Pradesh and Nagaland, floodwaters submerging parts of Imphal, these are not stories from a distant past. They all happened this decade. I still remember what Sikkim witnessed in 2023. No Sikkimese will forget that devastation, just as families across the North East will never forget the homes, fields and loved ones they have lost But remembering is no longer enough Unless we begin thinking and acting as one region sustainable development in the North East will remain a distant hope Disaster should remind us that we are all vulnerable When someone loses a parent to flood waters, when a farmer sees an entire year's crop disappear overnight, or when children watch their books, uniforms and homes being washed away. Politics should become irrelevant. And I have seen that solidarity. People travelling hundreds of kilometres with relief material, young people raising money online, families with very little opening their homes to complete strangers, support coming from across North East and the rest of India. This is North East at its best. But even as people were drowning, Some individuals and organizations turned another tragedy into a contest between Assam and Nagaland, for instance. Some blamed Nagaland, others rushed to defend it. Understanding the disaster became less important than winning an argument. We have seen this before. A few years ago, a university in Meghalaya was blamed for flooding in Guwahati under the absurd label of Flood Jihad. Nature does not care about these divisions. Rain does not recognize communities. Rivers do not follow our politics. Landslides do not stop at state borders. So why do we continue planning as if they do In mid parts of eastern Nagaland received an extraordinary burst of rainfall within a few hours that should have triggered immediate coordination across state boundaries Downstream communities should have been warned Authorities should have exchanged data and acted together. Instead, what do we do? We continue responding as isolated states to a shared climate crisis. People have died in Nagaland, Assam and Sikkim and other states. Families are grieving because of the same monsoon. The Northeast urgently needs a disaster strategy. We need shared flood forecasting, real-time exchange of rainfall and water level data, proper river basin management and joint planning before disasters occur, not after. Because what happens in one state can determine whether people in another state live or die. If your town has never flooded, that does not mean you are safe. Sivsagar, for example, received significantly below normal rainfall this season. It still flooded. Floods are no longer only about how much rain falls where you live or I live. They are shaped by what happens upstream. How forests are managed, how rivers are altered, how hills are excavated and how wetlands disappear. Illegal sand mining, reckless stone quarrying, deforestation and unplanned construction are not merely local issues. A hill cut in one place can become a landslide there and a flood somewhere else. The people making the decision and the people paying the price may live hundreds of kilometers apart We have already lost many battles against climate change What remains is the fight to reduce damage Yes to reduce the damage to prepare adapt and cooperate before another tragedy forces us to. But I know how this works. If I made a video blaming one community, pushed another conspiracy theory or declared Gen Z to be gutter generation, it would probably receive hundreds and thousands of views. I doubt this important issue will. Our concern for the environment has become seasonal. We care when rivers overflow, homes disappear and dramatic drone footage fills our screens. Then the sky is clear, the headlines move on and so do we until the next monsoons. But families who have lost their homes, livelihoods or loved ones do not return to normal when the water recedes. The monsoon is no longer just a season. It is a test of our infrastructure, our governments and our willingness to recognize the northeast as one connected region. The fight against climate change is not Assam's fight, Nagaland's fight or Sikkim's fight. It belongs to all of us and if we refuse to fight it together, nature will keep reminding us that although we live in separate states, we all inhabit the same fragile landscape. If you care about issues or topics like this, then you can support East Mojo. For a cup of coffee, you buy and drink without even thinking. You can keep our reporters on the field. So do log on to eastmojo.com and subscribe. 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