That which is left


It was so dry.

No water anywhere, in any form.

It was dry and burning hot.

No visibility of life anywhere.

The mountains stood tall and dry. The whole Earth was devoid of all colours except brown. The sun was white, the sky was white. It had been like this for a long, long time. It had started XXXXXXX years back when humans still walked on the Earth. They had called the phenomenon ‘global warming’. There had been lots of drama for the prevention of global warming.

Political leaders got into competition and held rallies. They protested against the use of anything which promoted global warming, promising a greener future. Only, their houses had air conditioners fitted in the washrooms also.

Students had joined the nature clubs of their schools and colleges so that they could bunk school and spread awareness about global warming.

A lot of trouble was taken for the prevention of global warming but nothing had succeeded. It had eventually come. People got tired of taking part in rallies in the summer heat so they started doing that in winter. But when winter temperatures came up to 29 degrees, they retired to their air conditioned rooms.

Many anti-science, anti-technology groups had also formed. They tried to promote the idea that science was harmful and advancement of technology was the most effective mass murder weapon invented.

The heat curve began rising in an almost vertical line

Despite the immense trouble taken and publicity gained, it could not be prevented.

The ice caps melted and the level of waterbodies increased. Slowly the cities drowned, one by one. Unfortunately, there had been no Noah this time. All the ice caps melted and all the land masses were submerged.

And then the sun turned fierce and dried it all.

Somewhere, in the brown, dry mountains, there was a small crack and slowly, a trickle of water came out. It was hardly a trickle also. Thin, thin as a hair. More water started coming out. The trickle slowly turned into something more. It progressed into a stream. It flowed over the dry, scorching land. Over the pebbles and over the sand. The volume kept on increasing. More and more water came.

In the next few years the Earth was born, again.

Maybe the streams never dry up truly. Maybe one trickle is always left.


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