by Gauri Mittal
“That’s how Pranav came up with the idea to let the public know about the city through the internet and made the online forum, he said. He knew it would be taken down, but he insisted he could get past those little problems.
“As for me, I was happy Pranav was showing so much concern for the real reason this project had been started. We had initially planned for some people from Rajgar to start with picking up the survivors registered on our site and any others that were found, according to the addresses and the map we had. But the bombings happened earlier than we predicted. We were both in Rajgar at that time, working on some aspect of the project. Though the project was complete, the population capacity had ended up being much lesser than we had first visualised.
“Roshan was one of the men we had hired to get the registered members to Shunya. But, since we were in Rajgar, it was inevitable that we took helm of the online forum project as well. That was how we personally came to rescue you.”
Chapter 11
Vishwaroopum finished his monologue and looked at me for a reaction.
“So, where is Roshan, now?” I asked. I had completely forgotten about him. “I haven’t seen him since we first entered the city.”
“He was admitted to the hospital the first day we came here, and he died.”
“Oh!” I said. “I didn’t know.” We sat quietly for a few moments. “You said earlier that there are three or four bunkers that the government set up. Do you think I might find my friends from Sikka there if they are still alive?”
“Unlikely,” he said, “but if they are there, they won’t be able to survive much longer unless they come to this city or one like it.”
I pushed the thoughts of Divya, Dhruv, and Sonakshi from my mind and brought us back to the topic that had first started our conversation. “We would need a few rooms to start the school.”
“Where do you suggest?” he asked.
“Maybe the admin office can provide a few rooms?” I asked.
I had discussed the plans with three people to start as volunteer teachers, namely Aarav, Geetika, and Ayesha. Geetika had been too busy but had promised to spare time when she could to help form a curriculum. Ayesha had agreed excitedly to teach music.
I had stopped ignoring Aarav and pretending I was busy only a few days after he took the job at the communication department. I quickly realized nothing seemed worthwhile without him, be it talking to new people, planning new ideas, or even eating meals. But still, though he was busy till five p.m. in the office, Ashima would cling to him in the evenings and he never asked her to leave.
I had told him about the school idea and asked him if he could help teach. I knew he had no time, but there were not many people I could ask at the time. He told me he was proud of me, and I blushed. He readily agreed to ask for some time off in the mornings to teach the kids.
Bramhari talked to other parents and brought them together to a meeting in the cafeteria after lunch hours. Aarav was at the meeting, and he asked them not to consider life as having come to a standstill. Their kids still had a future and needed a social structure in the form of a school, and though it would not be a traditional one, it would help shape their personalities. I was happy seeing him stand by me.
The first class was held on 1st of May, 2035, with a roster of twenty-five kids, fifteen of them below ten years of age and the rest varying from eleven to fourteen. Ayesha, Aarav, and Geetika stood beside me. I introduced them to the kids. We had no books, but we had people who were experts in various fields.
Kids of different ages were taught different things, as per the level of their understanding. Aarav and I taught them languages, maths, physics, and chemistry. Geetika taught them biology. We mostly discussed ideas and asked their opinions on various things. I wanted those kids to question, assess, and be able to think for themselves. It was a skill I was afraid they would fail to develop if not taught, especially living in an environment as highly restrictive as Shunya.
In the beginning, there was no set syllabus, and each of us discussed the topics to be talked about the next day. School started at nine, after breakfast, and lasted till one, before lunch. We encouraged them to interact with each other and explore their innate personalities. There were some who were talkative, and they tended to be the artistic ones. There were the quiet ones, the ones who happily stuck to a routine. Ones who worked with zeal, ones who liked it better to sleep. We did not restrict their personal inclinations, rather we slowly studied their responses to what they were taught in the school.
Ayesha taught them about music and sang with them. There was one charging port in each street for anyone who still had a cell phone, though most did not. I did, and though it could no longer be used to make calls, it had a good collection of music that Ayesha would play for the kids and teach them with.
Geetika was busy as usual, but she sometimes came over and gave the kids a fundamental understanding of how the various systems in the body worked together harmoniously.
For kids who were lethargic, we encouraged them to talk and mix things up. For the hyperactive kids, we taught them to steady their tendencies by trying to get them involved in quiet, slow-paced chores.
From nine to ten thirty every day, they would have science lessons, and eventually we’d move to geography and history. From ten thirty onwards, we would divide them according to age into three classes and discuss the topic of the day. The discussions topics would range from the war, god, society, values, art, music, books, the future, and life experiences.
At the end of four months, we held a school-wide meeting. I presided over the meeting, asking the kids if they liked what they had learnt and if they didn’t, how it could be made better. Most of the kids wanted the morning classes to be shorter, so the sciences period became an hour long, and we introduced physical exercises for the remaining half an hour. We streamlined a syllabus of sorts, detailing the subjects and topics to be taught in a six-month period and listing the topics of discussion according to the interest and inclination of each teacher. Slowly, we had recruited more teachers from among the city, including Dr Rajeev, the psychologist, and his wife, Dr Riddhima, the physicist. Aarav and Geetika had, by now, returned to their previous jobs, full time.
At the end of the first six months, something else happened. Ashima got very sick. She was admitted to the hospital, and Geetika told me Ashima had been sick for a long time now—she had developed cancer.
On hearing the news, I felt guilty for having previously hated her for clinging to Aarav. Me and our other group of friends began to visit her regularly for moral support. Especially Aarav. She wanted him to stay by her side all the time. I hated to admit it, but I was jealous sometimes, but I suppressed those feelings. The girl was already suffering, and if spending some time with Aarav helped her feel better, who was I to deny her that?
In the next school session, almost all the kids in Shunya, a total of 150 kids, were enrolled in the school. We added an additional two hours from 2 pm to 4 pm, when we took the kids to the farms and taught them the most basic human skill—the importance of which, for human civilizing, I had only now in the last year realized—we taught them farming. I became a popular sort figure in the city. Mostly everyone except my immediate friends started calling me Miss Madhavi. Aarav was no exception. He would call me Miss Madhavi to tease me.
“Are you seven? Are you a kid?” I would say.
He would just laugh, making me forget I was annoyed.
Chapter 12
Pranav had been actively involved with the administration of the city. The army general at Shunya was the default head of the city for the first year and a half after the war.
When the prime minister recovered his health, there was at first a reluctance to pass power to him, and the former’s recovery was kept secret from the people in the city, based on excuses such as it would be a “further strain on the prime minister’s health.”
Eventually, Vishwaroopum approached Pranav. “This is the beginning of the
rebirth of our civilization. We cannot have it go forward on a foundation that is not democratic.”
Vishwaroopum worked with Pranav and the general at the admin block, and though he voluntarily held no official title other than “inspector” and kept a low profile, he was intricately informed of the goings-on in the city and in office. He kept an eye on things, and as usual spoke rarely, but when he did it was to tip the relevant person whenever something seemed to not be working. Other times, he worked things out by himself.
“The prime minister is not strong enough,” Pranav said. “Frankly, looking at his health, I do not think he is in a position to lead anymore. It’s better if the authority lies with the city army unit and General Varishth.”
Vishwaroopum was not convinced. He knew Pranav well. He knew his “concern” stemmed as much from his ambition and self-serving nature as from real concern for the breakdown of the city’s political structure. But he could not say anything. That was not his way. Instead, he approached Aarav. He had become familiar with Aarav these past one year and a half years. Mostly when Vishwaroopum joined Madhavi and Aarav for meals in the cafeteria, though he did this infrequently.
Aarav was Madhavi’s friend, one Madhavi had utmost trust in, and Vishwaroopum had developed immense respect for Madhavi. Although she still seemed like a child to him, seeing her struggle immensely and grow into a person of great ability and strength, all in the span of a little less than two years, had endeared her to him. Madhavi had grown as a person, and she had inspired all people and systems around her to grow with her, yet she remained almost uncaring about her own standing and the respect she commanded from all the people in the city.
She had founded a critical institution for the future of the city. A school with a concept completely fresh and unrestrictive to a child’s growth. Even Vishwaroopum joined in sometimes during the evening practical lessons to observe as the kids were taught basic survival techniques, farming, or as they sang in a group all along 3rd Street. She had asked him to think about what else he could teach them when he had more time, especially the adolescents, as they needed a bit more to direct their energies better. Thus, he had been toying with the idea of teaching the kids martial arts, but he had been too shy to say anything about it so far.
His regard for the young girl had led Vishwaroopum to take the potentially hazardous step in approaching Aarav.
“There is something I need to discuss,” he said, stopping him after lunch hours in the middle of 3rd Street.
“With me?” Aarav had said. “Okay, how about we go back to the cafeteria and do so?”
“No. I know of a better place,” Vishwaroopum said. “The cafeteria is too noisy.”
Aarav followed him to the end of 3rd Street, where the wall lay beyond. Madhavi had mentioned it was a secret opening which opened in the inside of a cave on the surface of the Earth within which lay hidden a pristine lake and forest.
“What is it?” Aarav asked when they reached the isolated area beyond the farms. Aarav was tall but, Vishwaroopum still towered over him with his six-foot-five-inch frame. He turned to him.
“There is a problem in the admin office that I am hoping you can help me with,” Vishwaroopum said.
Aarav’s eyebrows knitted in seriousness. “What?”
“I need you to help me establish the prime minister’s rule in the city,” Vishwaroopum said. “He has recovered, and however he may otherwise be, power in his hands means power in the hands of the public.”
“Why don’t you ask Pranav for help?” Aarav asked. “And what’s stopping the prime minister from declaring this himself?”
“The general considers military rule to be best for Shunya, and Pranav, well, he means well, but he is in full support of the general. It is also a fact that if the political process becomes democratic, his current high position in the city won’t be guaranteed.”
“Have you talked with Pranav?” Aarav asked.
“Yes. He doesn’t believe the prime minister is well enough to take office.”
“What does the prime minister think?” Aarav asked.
“He wants his position back,” Vishwaroopum said. “I met him some days back, and he says he is fine and that even if he doesn’t completely recover, he doesn’t want to die without taking back his seat.”
“So, if the prime minister will ultimately expire from the effects of radiation sickness, he considers it better he does so after having taken on the highest seat of office, since a sort of democracy will have been established and elections can be held?”
“Exactly,” Vishwaroopum said, a feeling of comradeship arising between the two at the realization that they held similar political viewpoints. Aarav had voiced what he understood of the matter plainly.
“But why do you think I can be of help?” Aarav asked him.
“Because you work at the communications department,” Vishwaroopum said. “I thought we could come up with something. It is, of course, obvious that our involvement in whatever happens can’t be known by anyone other than the two of us.”
“Of course,” Aarav stated.
The next Sunday evening, as everyone was leaving for dinner after the day’s work had ended, Aarav slipped off into the Public Announcement room in the army headquarters. At 10 pm, the lights in all the streets and offices had been turned off. Only the hospital, in the distance, appeared lighted from a small window of the PA room, below which Aarav was hidden.
At 11 pm, Aarav was accompanied to his room on 2nd Street, Vishwaroopum’s inspector badge and a small flashlight in hand.
Early the next morning, the clerk in charge of reading the week’s notices from the piles of announcements stashed in the folder spoke into his mike.
“The prime minister has recovered and has been declared the head of the city of Shunya and any other cities or bunkers that might be harbouring survivors that lie within the province of the country of Iddis, in capacity of a democratically appointed leader of pre-war head of state, from today, dated 15th November, 2035 onwards.”
There was an uproar in the army headquarters as the general came barging into the room, followed frantically by his secretary. The young lanky clerk recoiled in fear and leapt out of the way as the general lunged straight for his collar.
That very evening, a rally was held, where the prime minister walked through the three streets and later addressed the people from the stage at the announcement hall.
*
Aarav and Vishwaroopum watched from the crowd. I came by and stood next to Aarav, cocking up an eyebrow at him. “You look unreasonably pleased with yourself.”
Aarav chuckled, turning his head slightly to the side and down towards me. “I am happy today. Do you want to take a walk with me around the farms after dinner?”
“Yes,” I replied.
Chapter 13
The prime minister, though still in a state of recovery, a large scar on his face, had taken the stage in the announcement hall on 15th November, 2035. People were intrigued to have the prime minister they had before then only seen on television and newspapers stand so close to them. It also helped that they had something to occupy themselves with other than daily chores, but their interest did not last for long. Soon they were back to their daily lives.
No other member from the prime minister’s party had survived the radiation sickness. The defence minister had gone into a coma and had never recovered. There not being enough facilities, he could not be put on artificial life support and had succumbed to death. Some of the other ministers of the prime minister’s cabinet were suspected to be in a bunker in the south-east, but there had been no contact with them so far.
In the pre-war era, the present prime minister was largely considered to be of weak character. Only a face for the party while the real power lay with the defence minister and his cronies. They had thus far controlled the media and the army while filling their own personal coffers, all during the last ten years of the government. They divided people and spread false news, mak
ing it seem as if everything was going smoothly within the country. Anyone in any power who said a word against the less-than-idyllic conditions and looming threat of war was instantly branded a warmonger.
But without the defence minister, the prime minister came across as a mild sort of man, who was very fond of the feeling of occupying his position and did not want to disturb it by working too much or causing too much excitement of any kind.
Most people, including myself, in the past, had preferred to live in ignorance rather than explore the truth and try to establish it. But Aarav had. And he had tried to tell us. He ultimately saved many people and himself due to his heroism in unearthing the truth for himself at a time when it was suppressed.
After three and a half years, Shunya had grown. Out of a total of ten thousand people who had entered the city, four thousand remained. Most had days after coming in, some weeks and some months later. They were mostly those who entered the city late and had absorbed very high sieverts. They died due to infections and dehydration as a result of the depletion of the white blood cells and the mucosa of their stomach and intestines getting damaged. They were given drugs to help them recover by pushing their failing bone marrow to make more cells to fight infections, but not all survived.
Instead of a cabinet, a prime minister’s committee had formed, which was called PMC for short. At present, the people who held important administrative offices from before were assigned membership. It was comprised of Pranav, Vishwaroopum, the general, and four other prominent people from the city. The PMC had the power to take over administration in case of the prime minister’s demise till the next election, along with veto power against the prime minister, if there was a majority among the seven members. They also discussed proposals and presented them to the prime minister.
Vishwaroopum had offered to introduce Aarav to the prime minister and get him a position in the PMC for his secret services in helping him return to power. But Aarav asked him to keep his involvement a secret. He liked his simple life in the communications department and enjoyed the technical work he got to do there.