The Future I Left Behind - By Veer Taluk

Written By: veer taluk

Category: science fictional story

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Veer Taluk invites readers into a realm of introspection and possibilities with "The Future I Left Behind," a science fictional story submitted to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Set against the backdrop of life's crossroads, this narrative intricately explores the themes of choice and individuality. Presenting a future filled with potential paths, Taluk crafts a reflective tale that resonates with the universal quest for self-discovery.

About the Work

This evocative story delves into the inner turmoil of its protagonist, Shiva, as he grapples with societal expectations and his own aspirations. Through rich imagery and a surreal encounter, Taluk artfully portrays the tension between predetermined paths and the allure of personal choice. The narrative's contemplative mood invites readers to ponder their own journeys, highlighting the importance of choosing oneself amidst a multitude of external influences.

The future i left behind

Original Submission by veer taluk

The Future I Left Behind

At eighteen, Shiva had already learned that people could ask the same question in a hundred different ways. “What are you planning to do after school?” “Which university are you choosing?” “What career do you want?” “What will you become?” Every question sounded different, but they all meant the same thing: You should know by now. The problem was that Shiva didn't. He was a student in Mauritius, preparing for examinations that seemed to determine everything. His days were measured by school bells, tuition hours, unfinished notes and the number of pages he still had to revise before sleeping. Everyone around him spoke about the future as though it were a destination with a clearly marked road. Shiva felt as though he were standing at a crossroads in the dark, watching everyone else walk confidently ahead.

That evening, he sat alone on the bus, his schoolbag between his feet and his notes open on his lap. He had been reading the same paragraph for nearly ten minutes without understanding it. His phone vibrated. A message appeared: “Have you started revising?” Before he could reply, another followed: “Don't waste your time. Your future depends on this.” Shiva stared at the screen before putting his phone away. He knew they meant well. That almost made it worse. He looked through the window as the familiar Mauritian landscape slowly disappeared beneath the orange light of sunset. He wondered when his future had become something he was supposed to fear.

The bus slowed down, and Shiva looked up. This wasn't his stop. He had passed this road hundreds of times, but tonight something made him stand. Before he could change his mind, he stepped off the bus. The doors closed behind him, and the vehicle disappeared around the corner, leaving him alone beneath the fading evening sky. For a moment, he wondered what he was doing. Then he heard it: a temple bell, deep and distant, echoing through the evening.

Shiva turned towards the sound. Across the road stood an old Shiva temple surrounded by enormous trees. He had seen the temple before, but something about it seemed different that evening. Between two ancient stone walls was a narrow black doorway. Shiva was certain it hadn't been there yesterday. Curiosity overcame caution, and he crossed the road. There was no handle on the door and no lock, only three words carved into the stone: CHOOSE YOURSELF FIRST. He reached out and touched the surface. The door opened.

Inside was a small room lit by a strange blue-white light. Objects covered the walls and floor: a graduation certificate, a racing helmet, a university identification card, a wedding invitation, a broken trophy, a suitcase, a stethoscope and photographs of people Shiva had never seen. Everything seemed to belong to a different life. Shiva walked slowly between them, unsure whether he was dreaming. Then he saw a photograph lying on a wooden table, and his entire body went still. It was him. Not the eighteen-year-old Shiva standing in the room, but an older version of himself. He looked to be somewhere in his forties, standing beside a woman and a young boy on a beach Shiva didn't recognize. They were smiling as though they had everything they could ever want.

Shiva turned the photograph over. Four words were written on the back: YOU CHOSE THIS LIFE. Before he could think about what they meant, a voice came from behind him. “Put it down.” Shiva froze. Slowly, he turned around. A man stood in the doorway. He looked familiar in a way that made Shiva's stomach tighten. The same eyes. The same scar near his eyebrow. The same face, only older. Shiva's voice trembled. “Who are you?” The man looked at him sadly. “You already know.”

Shiva took a step backwards. “No.” The man nodded. “Yes.” Shiva stared at him, his mind refusing to accept what his eyes were seeing. “You're me.” The older man gave a quiet nod. For several seconds neither of them spoke. Finally, Shiva gave a nervous laugh. “This isn't possible.” The older man smiled faintly. “I know. I used to say the same thing.”

He walked towards the objects scattered around the room. “Every object represents a life you could live.” He picked up the racing helmet. “You could become a driver.” He placed it down and touched the university identification card. “You could become exactly what everyone expects you to become.” His fingers moved towards the broken trophy. “You could fail.” Shiva stared at him. “Then which one is my future?” The older man looked directly into his eyes. “None of them.”

“Then why are they here?” Shiva asked.

“Because you haven't chosen yet.”

Shiva looked again at the photograph of the older version of himself. “What about that?”

The older man didn't answer immediately. Shiva picked up the photograph again. “You have a family there. A wife. A child. Is that my future?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

The older Shiva took the photograph from his hands and looked at it for a long moment. “Because I don't want you to become me.”

The words struck Shiva harder than anything else.

“What?”

“I came here to stop you.”

“From what?”

“From making the choices that created my life.”

Shiva stared at him. “But you said this is a good life.”

“It is.”

“Then why would you want to stop me?”

The older Shiva looked down at the photograph. “Because I spent years becoming successful at a life I never stopped to question. I achieved everything people told me would make me happy. I got the degree. I built a career. I earned money. I made my family proud.” He paused and looked at Shiva. “But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking myself what I wanted.”

Shiva felt something tighten inside him. “Then what should I do?”

The older man smiled sadly. “That is the one question I cannot answer.”

“Why?”

“Because if I answer it, you'll become me.”

The room suddenly went dark.

A deep temple bell echoed through the walls. The objects around them began disappearing one by one. The racing helmet vanished. The university card disappeared. The photographs faded into darkness.

Shiva looked around in panic. “What's happening?”

“The room is closing.”

“What do I do?”

The older Shiva looked directly at him. “Choose.”

“Choose what?”

“Your life.”

“I don't know how!”

“You don't need to know the whole road,” the older man replied. “You only need to choose the next step.”

Shiva reached towards him. “Wait!”

The older man stepped backwards into the darkness. “One more thing.”

“What?”

The older Shiva smiled sadly.

“Don't become me just because you're afraid of becoming nobody.”

The room disappeared.

Shiva opened his eyes and found himself standing outside the temple. The strange doorway was gone. The ancient stone wall was whole again. There was no mysterious room, no older version of himself and no collection of possible futures. Only the evening sky, the rustling trees and the distant sound of traffic.

For a moment, Shiva wondered whether he had imagined everything.

Then he looked down.

The photograph was still in his hand.

He turned it over.

The words YOU CHOSE THIS LIFE were gone.

In their place were four new words:

YOU STILL HAVE TIME.

Shiva stood completely still.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

His examinations hadn't disappeared. His doubts hadn't disappeared. His responsibilities hadn't disappeared. Tomorrow would still bring pressure, revision and uncertainty. Nothing had magically become easier.

But something inside him had changed.

He looked back towards the temple.

An elderly man was walking slowly along the temple path. When he noticed Shiva, he stopped.

“You found the door,” the old man said.

Shiva's heart skipped.

“You know about it?”

The elderly man smiled. “My grandfather told me about it.”

“Did he go inside?”

“Yes.”

Shiva swallowed. “What did he see?”

The old man looked towards the temple. “His future.”

“And what happened to him?”

“He spent the rest of his life trying to become the man he had seen.”

Shiva looked down at the photograph.

“Did he succeed?”

The elderly man shook his head.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because the future he saw wasn't a promise.” The old man looked directly at Shiva. “It was a warning.”

Shiva suddenly understood.

The room hadn't shown him the future.

It had shown him possibilities.

The older Shiva hadn't travelled back to guide him towards success. He had travelled back because he was afraid that Shiva would make the same mistake. He had been trying to save him from becoming a stranger to himself.

Shiva looked towards the road. His phone vibrated again. More messages. More questions. More expectations. For the first time, he didn't feel angry at them. He simply understood that none of those people could choose his life for him.

He walked home.

That night, Shiva opened his notebook and turned to a blank page. At the top, he wrote a question: What do I actually want?

He sat there for a long time.

He didn't have an answer.

And for once, that was okay.

He began writing anyway. He wrote about the person he wanted to become. Someone who could fail without believing he was a failure. Someone who could change direction without thinking his life was ruined. Someone who could make his family proud without abandoning himself. Someone who could work hard without turning his entire existence into a race. Someone who could be successful without forgetting to live.

When he finished, he closed the notebook.

Outside his window, the night was quiet.

Tomorrow would still bring examinations. There would still be pressure. There would still be uncertainty. But whenever fear returned, Shiva remembered the words of the older man.

Don't become me just because you're afraid of becoming nobody.

Weeks passed. Shiva studied. Sometimes he succeeded. Sometimes he failed. Sometimes he woke up believing he could conquer the world, and sometimes he stared at his books wondering whether he was capable of anything at all. But he kept going. Not because he suddenly knew exactly what he wanted from life, but because he finally understood that uncertainty wasn't the same thing as failure.

Years later, Shiva would remember that evening more clearly than he remembered any examination result. He would remember the old temple, the impossible doorway and the man who had looked exactly like him. Most of all, he would remember the lesson hidden inside that strange encounter: the future was never one fixed destination. Every decision opened another road. Every failure could become another beginning. Every dream could change. And perhaps the greatest freedom a person could have was not knowing exactly where life would take them, but knowing that they could still choose.

One evening, many years after the night at the temple, Shiva returned to the same road. He was older now. The world had changed, and so had he. He stood before the ancient temple and smiled. The doorway was nowhere to be seen. He walked towards the stone wall anyway, wondering whether the whole experience had been a dream.

Then he noticed something carved into the stone.

Three words.

CHOOSE YOURSELF FIRST.

Beside them was another sentence he had never seen before.

SOME FUTURES MUST BE LEFT BEHIND.

Shiva smiled.

He finally understood the title.

The future he had left behind wasn't a career. It wasn't a failed dream. It wasn't a person. It was the version of himself who had spent his entire life trying to become someone else.

He turned away from the temple and began walking. He didn't know where the road would lead, and this time, he didn't need to. The future was no longer something waiting for him. It was something he would create, one choice at a time.

Behind him, beneath the ancient temple bells, the life he had once been afraid of becoming finally disappeared into the past.

Shiva kept walking.

Not towards the future he had been shown, but towards the future he had chosen.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar is a prestigious platform celebrating writers from around the world. It showcases diverse voices and creative expressions, offering a space for participants to share their unique stories and perspectives. This competition fosters a global community of writers, encouraging exploration and innovation in the literary arts.

We extend our heartfelt gratitude to Veer Taluk for sharing "The Future I Left Behind" with the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This thought-provoking narrative invites introspection and inspires readers to embrace their own paths. We look forward to witnessing more of Veer's literary contributions in the future.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.