Histoires Courtes

Earth in the 22nd Century

As I tread on the barren and dry land below me, I think about my ancestors who surely had time to save this wrecked planet I live on, named 'Earth'. It barely resembles the beautiful blue planet I have seen in screens. Those wide oceans, seas, rivers are scarcely present. The atmosphere is depleted and polluted to a great extent. That is the reason why we are supposed to wear the heavy- duty mechanical lungs whenever we go out of our society's ventilated area for any work. The air outside the ventilated area- or VA as we call it- is so contaminated and poisonous that even a small minute in there is enough to kill a large man. People here receive artificially produced water which cannot match the pure water, but at least it is drinkable. There is no proper food available. Due to this, people are frequently ill. The main causes of death are starvation and kidney failure. Life now is miserable as compared to my ancestors.

I feel angry at them for giving us such a life. But, what is the use of crying over spilt milk? Hatred starts to boil up in me and I thrust this thought out of my bald head. Bald Head! I feel like howl at this thought. My mother remembers how brutally the Governs- our rulers - shaved my blonde pelt off my head just for the reason that I would not need water to wash it.

I go to the VA, place my 'lungs' in the cabinet assigned to me, and run back home. I am greeted by a woman who, like me, is bald, has the same green eyes and is practically double of my height, wearing a synthetic pair of shirt and skirt. She is my mother. Wearing proper cotton clothes need water to stay clean, doesn't it?

Though I am thirteen, I look like an eight year old girl, mainly because of my illness. My mother's beautiful eyes flood with tears she always tries to hold back in front of me. I walk to her, take her face in my hands after persuading her to bend down, and wipe those tears away from her face.

"It wasn't your fault, Ma. We can't help it." I say.

She always gets upset seeing me in such a bad condition. She thinks it's her fault I am ill. I suffer from a disease called Wilson's.

But that is not true. It's not only me who is ill. All the children living here are suffering with diseases of some kind or the other. It's the improper food and water which caused us to be born with birth defects. Not only kids, but adults too are affected with these deadly diseases.

"Dear, get ready. We have to go to see your grandmother." says my mother.

I go and stare at the cracked mirror inclined against hi- tech monitored wall.

A small girl with green eyes and olive skin, wearing a synthetic one- piece frock glares back.

My mind drifts off to grandmother. She is the oldest living soul in our society, who is now on her death bed. And for the first time in my life, I feel pity for her. We both did not go well with each other. In fact we bickered a lot. Long ago, I asked her a simple question. What was earth like before? What happened to it? This question lies unattended till date.

This made her hit the roof for some unknown reason and she said to me that young kids should not ask many questions. I asked this question to my mother, assuming that grandmother would have told her beloved and only daughter. To my disappointment, she had not. I became equally angry with her and was until now. Now I understand why. She could not bear the pain of remembering those days when earth was on the verge of destruction. She had lived and witnessed the devastation of the planet she had seen with green fields, trees and fresh atmosphere, or whatever they used to call it. It would not have been easy for her. I know it would not have. And I had made her made relive that moment by asking her about it.

I change into a pretty pair of synthetic shirt and skirt and follow my mother to the hospital, which is always overcrowded with patients. On the way, I find my only friend, Sam, heading to the hospital for a diagnosis for Wilson's. The same parent's-inherited disease from which I suffer. We do not have enough money to treat me for this and I know I won't last long. This sickness is fatal when left untreated. I wish him luck and assure him his tests will prove negative.

I follow my mother towards the hospital to see a young girl at my school being carried away by her parents, her arms crossed over her chest. The symbol of death. The sight of this little girl, emaciated bodies, sick people and infants make my mother teary again. She looks at my brown-ringed eyes and starts to cry. I let her do so. It will possibly make her heart lighter.

My mother goes inside to meet my grandmother and I am surprised to see that it's me who she wants to meet first. The smell of medicines and the beep sounds of the computers reach me. There is my Grandmother, lying pale faced in the white synthetic bed. She gives me a small screen. She whispers, "Sorry dear, I gave you such a miserable life. Forgive me."

"It's Okay, Grandma. I will meet you up there in a few years, wont I?" I say in what would be an encouraging voice. I have to be optimistic about it, because the alternative is to be scared out of your wits. I ought not to break down. Not here, anyway.

I look down on the screen. I see things which I know as trees. There is a young woman perched near it, with a man- his hand around her waist- , both smiling. They look extraordinary. The woman has dark black hair, falling in waves over her shoulders. The man has dark red hair, sleek and a handsome face.

"Is this you, Grandma? And is this- who is this?" I ask, bewildered.

"Your Grandpa," her voice starts to break down.

I stare at her, astonished. Her eyes have now started to droop.

My mother reaches to grab her hand and holds onto it, as if for dear life. "Mom, please don't leave me! Please!"

"Goodbye." grandmother whispers. Her eyes flutter shut. Her chest stops moving. I carefully cross her arms over her chest.

"MOM! NO- PLEASE- NO!' My mother starts to howl.

Her father was long dead and gone. She lost a mother. Her husband is no more. Her only daughter will be gone in a few years. By the look on her face, she cannot stand this thought. And nor can I.

She runs out of the hospital, and out of the VA, without her lungs while I run madly behind her, unable to catch her. I stop at the door separating the VA from outside.

Out there, she falls, clutching her neck and in a few minutes, she collapses.

Her eyes are open, wild and panic stricken. Her chest has stopped moving. She is dead. I am all alone in this cruel world. My loving mother, my caring friend, has gone forever. She is never going to come back.

She leaves me for her heavenly abode with her own mother. I am left all alone in this world, banging and howling at the glass door to death. My dream never came and never will come true. I wanted to see this derelict planet filled with the trees I have seen in the screen given to me by my grandmother. I wanted to have a perfect life, full of trees, shrubs, rivers and mountains on which I can dance around. And now, I know this won't come true. Never.

I still blame you for this, dear reader.

Yes, my ancestor. You.

A/N: Do comment and vote if you liked it!