The Hunt


I wrote this Short story about the concept of Future food for a competition from ThinkBig.
Well, the result?? I messed up and I messed bad; and that’s why this story is in my blog now.
This is a story of a man; a man who wanted to live at peace within him; a man who did not want the world in which it is now; and there is nothing he can do about it.

March 3, 2045
Dawn

I am hit very badly and Losing Consciousness. My head makes a 360 degree turn as my feet gives up; I start to fall.

When I was young, I always relished nature. Note that I say the previous sentence in sarcastic Past tense. It’s not that I don't admire nature anymore, it’s just that I don't know what made me hate nature so much these days. May be I still love nature; Hate and Love have always been the two sides of the same coin. I find no difference between them.

Too much love becomes hate.
Too much help turns into a nuisance.
Too much Admiration turns to Nausea.

I remember a song from .38 special, “Hold On loosely”; and it keeps playing within me in my head continuously without stopping beyond my control.

When I was young, there were fewer crowds on trains; less crowd on roads. I am from a small village. Our Primary occupation was agriculture. We had great food, pure air and a better lifestyle.

Then the Population Increased. There were more people everywhere. A lot of people moved on and left agriculture to industries. I have always been a wondering kind of guy. And this wondering ability made me think of the huge demand for food that might rise beyond the scope of the population. I was scared. To see people without food was something which I could never dream of. How could something like this happen? This thought would haunt me from time to time, but then I would do my best to forget it. I was worried that one day my freedom would be lost.

I feel a tremor inside me as my body hits the floor. I feel my arms get dragged along with the momentum by which my body fell. I lie down there. It must have been the Branch of a tree that must have hit me as I was running away from an animal that was chasing me. I was not in a position to carefully analyse where on earth am running.

History repeats itself. Nature in its crude self is what I experience now.

I hunt for my food. The world is out of humane food reserves anymore; spoilt by fertilizers and biological tests carried out on genetically modified crops which turned it into one complete disastrous failure.

It’s a jungle now. No ozone Holes, no civilization to produce one.

I remember the start of the day as I mark the date on my wood-made calendar. Not that I or anyone cares but it’s my ritual now. Armed with bows, arrows and spears I took off on a trip to fetch my meal.

I saw a group of goat drinking water after sunset. I aimed at one of them, a weak target so that I can get my food. I only attack the old ones in the herd so that the young ones get more time to live and enjoy.

I wonder about the peculiar place of a man in the food chain. Just as I was about to take a shot at one of the goats; a tiger launched itself onto me. My reflexes have tightened and I reacted quick enough to escape with a small scratch.

I continued to run and thus began my day until the time I am lying on the forest floor.

I lie down there gasping. I seem to have lost my furious predator.
As I lie down there; I still wonder about the peculiar place of a man in the food chain. Is he the hunter or the Hunted?

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