AISHANI MATHUR
2 HEP
A sudden dread gripped her whole being. She ruminated on the source of the sudden tingle down her spine, but it felt like trying to locate an infinitesimal speck in the web of problems revolving around her. The TV blared on. The news anchors were reporting the recent flooding in Venice. 80 percent of the city submerged under water, under the weight of human rapacity, because the whole incident was pinned down to the guileful climate change, enveloping Venice in the perils of its increasing temperatures. A few years from now Venice may be wiped off the face of the planet, with all its beauty disappearing into nothingness – the long walks down the canal, romantic rides in the Gondola, the many gothic places, monuments that shimmer with the essence of Renaissance. The day outside moved at a leisurely pace. The unbridled heat drove away any birds that might have otherwise filled the air with their sweet melodies. The street dogs lay on the paved road with their tongues sticking out, panting their way into salvation. But the atmosphere outside lay beyond the present mental occupation of the girl who had been previously introduced, her mind fixated on the approaching cataclysm. Would she ever grow up to be her parent’s age? Would she ever make it to college? Would she be able to go to Venice, a dream she had always harbored? Or would the menace of climate change catch hold of Venice too, with its gaunt, twisted fingers, drenching Venice in the poison it has so carefully worked out, ultimately sinking Venice in the deep waters, with its ostentatious buildings and gilded culture, all disappearing? And oh, will her progeny ever see the light of day? An overwhelming sensation of pity absorbed her at that thought. The future generations will have to bear the brunt of the untamed avarice our generation has displayed; they would have to face the scythe when the world approaches its unnatural end. As the Armageddon stares us in the face, we realize that seated on the four horses are no mythical figures, but the vices of men. Was redemption still an option for the people of the planet? No, she figured not. Decades of misuse and overexploitation of the limited resources we were gifted, could not help but reverberate in the end of existence. Dinosaurs were killed by an asteroid and prehistoric mammals at the end of the ice age. It makes sense that humans should die of a hole in the ozone that they put there. An untimely end? Perhaps.
The ringing of the doorbell pushed her back into reality. God, what had come over her! How pessimistic she had become! As she got up and opened her front door to let the despondent world inside, she met with the Amazon delivery guy. She fixed her eyes on the package. Mass production. Consumerism. Big factories. Black smoke. The ideas disturbed her mind, like dangling feet in water. The ripples, however, faded away, as the delivery guy stuck his palm out as a gesture for payment. Later, as he started his scooter to leave, it blew up black fumes in her face. The pinnacle had been reached. Her fear had turned into a fit of anxiety, as seen through the beads of sweat collecting on her forehead.
In she rushed, anxiety draining the colors from her face, shriveling her blossoming youth. Doom was imminent. Tragedy hung heavy in the air. She saw her books neatly arranged; spines exposed. Her clothes on the bed. A bunch of hair tangled in her comb. The point of existence was lost on her. She had been awakened to the transience of life, and death for a whole civilization did not seem like a far reality any more. She panted. There was no time. There was no escape. She must die with the rest. It had been engraved on the cold stones of destiny.
A feeling of calm had finally engulfed her. She stepped out, and watched the sun set in the distance, against the tangerine of the sky, and the smoke of the city.
documented and reported by Media team, Vrittanta
Vrittanta, CHRIST(Deemed to be University) 