2026 Will Come

By Shriya Mahesh

My heart was astray, trampled, in the wildfire that roared within me. My eyes scanned the horizon in absolute desperation. The sky that once captured the tranquillity of Claude Monet’s paintings was draped in the reddish hues I saw splattered all around me, its scars etched in my memory, and the excruciating screams that frequently accompanied it. I pressed my hands to the land below and felt it shudder and tremble, as if it too bore the sheer magnitude of trepidation that pulsed through my veins. It now embodied a chessboard of doom, the players reduced to a puny “Knight in shining Armor”. 

The land, the land seemed to know. It seemed to know that the footprints that adorned its physique were no longer those of its children, but of those who yearned to erase us. That the air was no longer rejuvenated by the laughter that reverberated through it, but instead of screams, screams overflowing with the utmost agony, that it no longer bore the saccharine fruits, the grains that fed its family. As an explosion tore through the layers of our polluted air, the land rattled. I could tell that it was lamenting along with me, for it seemed to be heaving for air. I looked over at my sister. Her weak eyes met my teary ones, the eyes that had been coerced to witness all of humanity’s sins. I longed to live till a day when we could eat to our hearts' content, when she no longer embodied a cardboard silhouette. They are nearing. I felt my sister’s hand slide in mine. Oh, how I wish things were different. Through the panels of my rose-coloured glasses, we would be in school together, mocking our teacher, or running through fields brimming with the sickening scent of flowers, leaving us infinitely suspended in a time where happiness was the only constant. 

They are almost here. At least my blood would seep into the hands of my mother, buried in her gusty sand, coursing through her puissant streams, cascading from her highest peaks, along with my brothers and sisters, who died for her. I know that one day, we will all gather together in our very land, the land that wept for us, and imperiously glorify her. One day, eyes would lock, whether brown, green, or blue, and gleam with love and affection. One day, we would melt in each other's embrace, repentant that we wished to see each other’s blood stain the earth. I do not characterize all of them as cruel, for hate doesn’t emerge naturally in our hearts; it must be tamed, groomed, and taught. I am positive that a weapon lies in the shaking hands of another, whose greatest nightmare is realized through the soul of their helpless victim, haunting them for all of eternity. 

The stars looked resplendent tonight, and surely, I would be joining them- they would be far more hospitable to me than those I’ve encountered during my short span in this world. For in our captors' stance, we have committed a grave sin, the sin of being born in a world that does not want us. But the world still turns, and wars still exist. 

By Shriya Mahesh