World Revolution

I wrote this for a writing competition. It's set in the year 2030 and narrated from a 65 year old point of view. My first try at writing this sort of style. It wasn't really comfortable but I think I did okay.The two animals that I mentioned is because I live in Malaysia and they're common here. I doubt I'll be winning the competition but I tried my best.

On the first day of the year 2030, she realizes many things have changed. She sat on her slightly crooked rocking chair in her backyard, swaying back and forth lightly, reminiscing. She remembers what it was like years ago when she was still an immature little brat with a sharp mouth.

I don’t recognize this world, she thought sadly. It is not the way she knows it. She felt melancholy when she recalled of the good old days. When things were much simpler and everyone didn’t spend their time lost in their own little world. She knows. The world has changed and nothing she does will change it back.

She was of course happy with the way her life has turned out. She has had a successful career, a loving husband and polite good-mannered children. She will live ripe to an old age surrounded by the innocent peals of her grandchildren’s laughter.

But she felt a sense of disappointment knowing that her children and her children’s children and so forth have not the chance she had. The chance to enjoy life the way it should be.

Nowadays, the only thing teenagers concern themselves with is learning. Not that it is actually a bad thing she mused to herself. In fact, she encouraged it. But she drew the line when they turn into mindless zombies of the waking dead, throwing themselves into learning day and night. Sure, they’ll secure a good comfortable job and maybe even more but they won’t be happy. So, she thought, what’s the use?

She remembers her days as a teenager. It was awkward, embarrassing and least of all comfortable. She does things her way however. She chooses what she wants and works on how to get it in her own way. She was a stubborn one, her parents had said. They were right. She only listens when she absolutely had to. But she was happy and that was all she needed.

She remembers those days when she would run around with her friends in the lush green forest, the smell of freshness evident in the air. The said forest is no more today. Hardly any of its kinds are left. Her granddaughters and grandsons if not for the reserved forests, would hardly even know what a forest is. They have never seen a tapir or an orang-utan save for pictures and even then their recognition for these animals (and others come to that) is very poor indeed.

She does not blame them however. At 65, she knew enough of the bitter pains life can produce than to needlessly blame others much less her very own descendants. She knew it was in a way her generation’s fault. Had they not been aware of how hazardous (although beneficial) rapid progress can be, they would have instilled precautions much sooner. It was too late now. It was a lost cause she knows, yet she can’t help but to disgrace herself.

A string of If only’s entered her mind when the notion came. If only she had choose researching as a profession, If only she had recycled when she had the chance, If only she did this, If only she did that. She feels regretful. But she realizes that if only’s are only words of what cannot be undone. In which case, the damage has been done.

It was around the year 2015 that global warming was at an alarming rate, polluted air a customary and reserved forests had decreased to the point that it was almost extinct. It might have, if it wasn’t for the thankfully immediate steps taken by our government and all the other governments around the world.

That was all they herself included, could do to compensate for their past blunders. She accepted that the generations after, would have to find new means of survival by themselves. She knew she should be grateful to have lived earlier, to have experienced earth in its glory but the guilt was there and it will remain.

She was about to continue berating herself when a ball bounce past right between her eyes. She blinked. A child of 5 years old, her sixth grandson came running retrieving the ball. He smiled sheepishly at his beloved grandmother.

‘Sorry grandma,’ he said ‘we were playing and big brother threw too hard’ whilst glaring at the said brother.

She blinked and gave a loving smile.

‘That’s okay. Now run along dear’ she said. The boy nodded his understanding and went gleefully skipping towards his brother.

For a while she just stared at them. Then a thought came. The world may have changed but compassion; an act of kindness to another still exists. While it survives, hope will as well. Smiling, she continued to sway back forth on her rocking chair humming obliviously.