BookChums Cart
» » Guest Blog: Doomsday by Rishabh Chaturvedi

Guest Blog: Doomsday by Rishabh Chaturvedi

Post by: Kabita Sonowal

 

We invited Author Rishabh as our Guest Columnist to blog on our theme of Doomsday. This is what Indian writer, Rishabh Chaturvedi has to say about it.

 

Here I scribble. Now, I’ll tell you what will come of it in a few centuries. The Internet will be dead; technology will leapfrog the world into a new orbit. Yet, there will be historians; explorers, whose prime job will be sifting through excavated material and creating hypothesis that primarily proclaim their race’s supremacy. But that is incidental. While they are excavating the internet graveyard, someone will stumble upon my scribbles. Rishabh, a very fakir-sounding name from the mystic East, will be attributed with having created these runes; a message in a new language that needs to be deciphered. A commission will sit on it and the inquest will arrive at a new date for the end of the world.

 

But this is later, say about 4025 AD. What about 21st December, 2012?

 

It’s a funny thing that in all the movies they show the floods coming in at night. We almost believe this to be as true as the floods coming in the first place. What if we expect our day to be as mundane as waking up in the morning, grumbling over our ill-buttered toasts, punching people to get in the train to work, and begging our boss for a half-day off because there is going to be water logging in the evening, and the water comes in from the window (while the taps are still running dry in a lot of places) in the morning. 

 

Rishab's Conceptual representation of a Mayan Calendar

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some might feel let down. Particularly those who are going for the Doomsday eve party in the evening. Yes, there is a Doomsday eve party in town this December. It’s a foam party; and with the invite they are handing out a bar of soap, pretty cheap ones too! (They don’t really care about what the customers have to say; they’re taking the doomsday thing quite seriously). There, supposedly, will be a lot of water on that day, and so the organizers expect us to make our own foam.


I’m going for this party. No, what if the world is really coming to an end? What if the Mayan artist did not really run out of chart paper when he reached 2012, as I keep telling my six-year old niece to pacify her? But that’s just me. I wonder what everyone else in the world will be doing on 20th December, 2012. There will be anxiety, surely. Imagine, sitting with your family for evening tea and looking around, waiting.

 

Here are a few things that I could imagine. Men and women will run down naked like mad children, making love with the first person they see (really, the Israelis with Palestinians on Gaza strip kind of no holds barred love). Mumbai-ites will kick back their shoes, smoke weed, crack jokes with no one in particular, and laugh at jokes by no one in particular and let the empty trains (headed to Virar, a satellite town outside Mumbai) pass unmolested. Mothers will smile at doodles made by little Picassos in their colouring books, kicking the mental math book for the spiders under the couch. And possibly my father will let go of one out of his four car parks in favour of our hapless neighbour who parks his car on the street outside, only to find a new scratch on it every week.

 

There will be euphoria all around. Happiness. The world will first drown in a giant wave of love before the biblical tides come to wash all of us away. Wanton lovers, silly drinkers (basically the whole world) will pass out even before the waves swell. And then, up there in his marbled halls, the Lord will summon the non-descript Mayan and say, “Good job laddie. Finally, my children know how to live. I always knew they’ll need a good scare from time to time. Things are going to be just fine now. Maybe, the Earth doesn’t need cleansing yet.” And you know what, there will be no floods.

 

Now, what happens the morning after? We swim out of our retch rather than flood waters; and amidst our confusion, find jubilance at the sight of the familia- golden Sun. And then: the Palestinians hit back at defenceless Israelis; Mumbai-ites throw punches to get back in the train and back to work (this time headed towards Churchgate); mothers snatch the colouring books and hand over the mental math to little scowling Einsteins’. As for me, after I’m done grumbling over the ill-buttered toast, I’m going down with dad to get our parking back.

 

The world will grudgingly get back to its feet. 22nd December, 2012 is going to be one heavy day. And up there, the Lord will smack his forehead. He’ll summon the Mayan again and say, “That’s one good scare gone to waste. They just never learn!”


But one thing will remain. You remember the scribbles I mentioned above; the Doomsday prophecy of 4025 AD. Well, that’s the only hope now left with the Lord.


   
 
 

2 Comments



Add Your Comment:
Comments

Belajar Seo Blog
Thu,Jan 10th 2013 2:03 PM
ricardoferns
Hahaha, funny and true.
Fri,Dec 21st 2012 9:17 AM