Winner – 8th Position
(Judges’ Choice)
All India Literature Competition 2019-20
by The Creative Post
— by Sudarshana Sengupta
–Reading Time – 15 min Approx
For as long as humans have existed, their survival instinct has served as their most powerful drive.
The year is XX42.
The air was heavy and damp, likely so because of the humidity radiating from the diverse crowd of noisy men, women, children trying to squeeze into the last of the space in the carriage before it shut off, but to no avail.
As thick and suffocating as the air already was, pressing against them, along with it hung their impending doom over their heads—and the crowd diverse, absolutely, but one factor in common being the curse of poverty and the tell-tale signs of being wronged.
“Let us in! Let us in!”
The shouts rose and fell, again and again, the way a summer heat wave would, not in perfect consistency or harmony but somehow still as clearly felt as day.
The scene became more and more heated as time went on, and blood was drawn. No one gave the acts of self-interest much thought, and the ones who did had much else, like their own survival, to worry about.
This survival instinct is as necessary as ruthless; yet we live in a society that constantly reaches for higher moral grounds and evolution through ethics and empathy.
The Earth will soon be met with the impact of asteroid Orcus and life on here, as we know it, will cease.
Inside the long carriage, sat the ones deemed eligible to live, strapped to their seats tightly.
Now, most of these elites did not mind any of the noise the “tramps and thieves” were making, except for some who were actually disgruntled and clearly irritated at the annoyance.
“Lord, damn them. They are doomed anyway, why are they hell-bent on causing such a ruckus before they go?”
A pretty, young lady here, hearing the muffled, frantic screams—who could only imagine the scene outside—spoke to her husband, with her posh accent and clear notes of distress and sympathy laced to her voice,
“My love, this is so wrong.”
Her husband, knowing what she was referring to, as the shouts of the doomed were, after all, quite hard to ignore when they were coming just a few feet away from them, took her soft hand in his own rougher ones in a comforting manner, and said in a pitiful tone so gentle,
“If not, what is to become of us, you naïve little thing?”
This is when a young gentleman, spying an opportunity to slip in his own opinion on the situation, chimed in,
“Survival of the fittest, good Sir and Madame. It’s all natural selection, yes, it is. I pity them very much indeed, do you not?”
Having been done with their little exchange, the ones actively involved and the ones watching all went back to enjoying the peace of their own company, except some very lively—perhaps a bit too lively—young gentlemen laughing aloud, conversing like they didn’t have a care in the world, as if it was just another day. And they weren’t one bit wrong as for them it was, just another day of winning over the less fortunate.
However, is it always ethical to act in a manner that ensures survival of the self?
A habitable planet exists, just a bit over four light years away, named Terra B-550, and commonly called Terra.
In the comparatively smaller control room, which was located at the separate head of the train, stood a lone woman, seemingly in her early-twenties, and in deep contemplation. She had a petite figure, her short height often the subject of jokes amongst her friends back in middle school, but all-in good fun. And of course, she was as aware as anyone else on board, of what kind of a harsh judgement the entire community of poverty-stricken people were being passed through, simply based on their economic standing in the society.
Disturbing her string of thoughts came in a man, the head in-charge of the control room, the whole of his six feet automatically towering over the much shorter female. He passed on a solemn, knowing nod to the woman, the woman returning it almost instantly. They proceeded on from there to have a short exchange, just the bare minimum, and weirdly cryptic.
“You know what to do, do you not?”
“I do.”
The previous ninety-eight trains have already left, launched into space to reach Terra, and the last one remained, the last train to Terra, the new Earth.
Time was being very generous with her, as to her it seemed like being left all alone with nothing but her tangled pattern of thoughts for ages, once the man had left.
And she heard it all, very well.
“Final warning, back off!”
An officer barked harshly, and while some shrank away in fear of receiving a bullet, the others seemed to grasp the situation at hand and logically assess it better than the ones who shrank back.
“We are not half of the dumb cows you all make us out to be, respected Officer. We know what lies at risk, and what we are being offered. We either die by your bullet, fighting to stay alive, or we die today still, only a little while later!”
A man, seemingly braver than the rest, spoke up, making the others look around at each other’s faces, seeking nods of approval.
“Do you not have a child at home, Officer?”
A woman, following the lead, was the next to speak up, necessarily not meaning she had any less of a courageous spirit, but the little bundle of flesh, blood and a heartbeat she had in her arms meaning that she had a lot more to lose than just her own life, giving her more of a reason to stay quiet.
But seeing a lone mother stand up tall in the eyes of her predator, as if a tigress protecting her cub, served as more of a reason for others to stand up as well.
And there began the shooting, and bloodshed. After the first half of a minute, the distinct screams and cries of terror and wrath started melting into a nightmarish cacophony of pain and pure agony. Everything was painted and bathed in a most glorious shade of crimson, and the air stank of iron.
If one had the stomach to listen closely, they would surely hear the lone believers, never turning away once from their faith. One would hear them whisper words of prayers from their holy books, helping others up and staying closely huddled together, reassuring each other that everything would be alright in the end as it was always destined to be. In that moment, they realized how similar they were to each other, as if long lost brothers and sisters.
The elite ones sat secured, however, slightly more panicked than they previously were. They had widely varying opinions, but each equally strong.
“They are mad cows! Those brutes, they will break in for sure!”
“Forgive me, my Lord. I beg of you.”
The female stumbled on her way to the control panel, losing her balance for a moment perhaps from the hell of chaos that had surrounded her. The screams echoed, forcing their way through the metal walls, the scenes played out very colorfully all in red in front of the glass window, the nervous chatter coming from the carriage crawled up her spine.
Pandora was her name though it was insignificant now, as had become all other man-made concepts and beliefs on this final day of transcendental judgement that challenged those very core beliefs of mankind. She was an assistant for the team, and she had been given a chance to live.
“Father, I hope you’re doing well. You’d be proud of how far I’ve made it.”
She gently spoke to herself, aloud, still hovering over the control panel, as the rest of the team hastily rushed into the control room, clearly in a hurry to leave to Terra.
“But oh Father, I’m one of them, the very low-lives they are cursing at. I was supposed to die with them today. But I made it here.”
Her hands tightened their grip on the edges of the panel till her knuckles turned white, her breath now coming out in shallow pants, her heartbeat racing just a bit more at the thought of what was to come. Her shadow that had been resting over the panel below her now looked gloriously bigger than her smaller physical frame, as if she had grown into something greater, more beautiful.
“The previous trains all launched into space have been destructed, as conspired amongst us low-lives, Father. I’ll be the one to destroy the last, the last train to Earth, and along with that, the last chance of restoring mankind. The only way to save this corrupted humanity is not to save them at all. And I’ll watch, beside you in the skies, dear Father, witnessing the rebirth of a beautiful new era.”
— by Sudarshana Sengupta
