The last temple turtle’s story.
Year: 2045
Age of the turtle:105
Age of the hunter: 65, looked more like 45 from far due to her skinny appearance.
Atmosphere: Filled with grime. Doors are closed as windows are. The homes within are lit dimly.
World’s state: Man has learnt to travel through the dimensions and has started constructing an empire similar to the star wars movies. Dimensions are not just planets but what are they?
Earth’s 3 dimensional state: Almost collapsing.
Architectural status on earth: Huge bypassed, flying cars, robo cleaners, romans and hubots rule the traffic, clean streets, sit at dirty charging stations, the rain does not stop, then sun is when the windows open at homes.
Scene: A 65 year old woman races through the garbage, little dirty puddles and comes across the Buddhist monastery. The monastery was long destroyed and she entered it. Zen was sitting on the pond side and singing his last song.
The old woman spotted him and was so hungry that she knew the meat could serve her 3 days of free food with the rice and spices left. She lived alone and had just one stomach to feed but she lost all the money in this worldly mire and now depended on a paltry bank pension that came sometimes and at other times it didn’t.
The government wanted to be done with earth by 2085. They were calling people to shift to Mars and Venus
But Gojo was old and she wanted to stay here.
When she went behind him, the turtle sat quietly till she reached him.
Her sister stayed a little far and Gojo had donated all her share of the remaining wealth to her. Gojo knew her sister would have enough and was somehow full with the thought. Gojo wore a pair of tattered rugs and lined them up like the Buddhist attire. She liked it somehow.
When she went and sat beside the turtle she could see the turtle was old. It was nearing death.
She asked him.
“Is it fine if I use your meat to feed my stomach?”
The turtle smiled and nodded.
“I am the last of my clan. We are no longer here on Earth, more so, we are being cultivated on other dimensions like Mars and Venus for our exotic meat. He smiled.”
“What? But is this not your home?”
Now, Gojo was a Gashi, someone like you know to be the jedai from the star wars. Very few knew that Gashis lived to this day on Earth.
“Yes, it is. But then we are not allowed here and as of now it seems humans have severed their own foot which means even they can’t stay here.” Zen replied.
Gojo was in a fix.
She told him, “it’s alright, I will figure out something. You come with me, we can stay in our home till I die. Does anyone know you are here?”
“Yes, some who come to offer their obeisance to this old temple.”
“How many?”
“Fifty surviving people I think.” Zen counted in the clouds as no stars were any longer visible. The cloud, the meshwork all around was so thick no one could see the stars.”
“There goes the last temple turtle.” Gojo pulled out her oxygen mask, pulled Zen out of the yucky mud and put him in the bag, and vanished on her two legs.
The next day people came for prayers and they did not meet Gojo who would recount stories of a beautiful, green earth to the children in return for some apples and potatoes. They were sad.
Terrible imaginations filled the heads of these children and adults.
Soon they left with their morbid thoughts.
While beside Gojo, Zen sat, happily munching a lettuce leaf.
One day after a month almost while the rain poured the whole day, Gojo told Zen, “you know my totem is tortoise, so practically I couldn’t have eaten you. I was so hungry I did not know how to think straight. But then when I asked you, you said I could eat you and I felt sad and at the same time free, free of the fear of survival. I realized, surely, I was not so hungry that I had to eat you. Besides, if I have you as the last one then I was to grow old with you. I didn’t choose logic, I chose a truth I felt was right. I did not go by the world and I could be wrong but then this world is messy and see where we are now…all because of our lack of this particular instinct. See where we are with so much logic.”
Zen kept munching happily. The rain poured like never, the streets were full and the people still on streets scampered like rats to find shelter
Snehashree is a content creator by profession and writer by passion. She is a storyteller, poet, and abstract artist besides being a content writer. She has published her works of poetry on Amazon and several online magazines. She moved into full time writing after spending a few years in the healthcare industry. A solivagant and an ardent animal lover, she regularly crafts interesting articles for her blog - TST.
When not writing, she can be found reciting poetries in poetry clubs, teaching kids the art of poetry, and reading avidly. You could visit her website and chat with her on Instagram.
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