Of End

So here I am. Reporting live in complete darkness, outside my house, in front of the municipality garden, splashed with what I like to call ‘Edison’s color’ accompanied with a little touch of strange silent thunders that sets beams raging across the night sky, making it appear as velvety purple.

I realize it is a bad idea, after-all. The mosquitoes of the tropical climate,obviously, can go mad with the light of an LCD screen. The drizzles might spoil the keypad and yet I am so passionate about this atmosphere right now that it saddens me when I decide to leave this place.

I go back inside, standing against the window, hoping to absorb the desired effect which is of-course far from the weather outside. But still, I would stand patiently and type for a while.

I need to get it out.

I sit back on my mother’s bed, staring at its bed-sheet, a pattern of chessboard and very peculiar stars, remembering what national geographic (HD) instilled into my brain, today. I remember my mother was moved too. She didn’t liked the idea of earth ending in heat. It made her uncomfortable and her face completely blank. I have heard her saying that she would be the most happy one if apocalypse would make its ways faster and end the chaotic life on earth soon, but of-course when the reality seeps inside you, it is always different.

The show, “Aftermath: Betrayed by the sun” appeared to be a very simple documentary about the death of sun and with it, our planet, at least at first, but as I pushed up the volume control, it took me towards an era in almost a dramatic transition; Its reality cold, its practicality, very itchy. And not to mention unbearably hot.

I would specially like to mention a scene that literally gave me an afternoon nightmare.

A man in a white space suit standing on an uncertain planet, his giant helmet reflected back a red giant and with it the earth, turning into nothingness, swallowed by the mighty sun.

I mused over this possibility and I tried not to cry about that. I thought about how we get deeply depressed by leaving school, an old bicycle, leaving a childhood home, college bench, office canteens after retirements, libraries. Now multiply that pain to million times and the remainder would be the pain of leaving the whole planet itself.

You are standing at an alien place, remembering the places you thought would always exist, which are now turning into something minuter than ash. You can never walk the same “earth” again. The earth becomes the “earth” for the space.

So now you see, why I want to roll on the grass of the municipality garden. Or why would I like to kiss the trees and thank them for their existence. Or to weep in a silly manner while looking towards the heaven that promises a downpour.


I love you earth. I might not repeat this socially-silly sounding sentence again but I will love you, whether I express it or not. And I cannot promise to become the person who can save you, but I can promise to try. For now, I’ll try.


Just another of your people.






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