Glimpses of the Future

By Pravin Gupta

"You use war to maintain peace, while the war is a threat to peace itself."          

— Pravin Gupta, Glimpses of the Future 

 

Some say that the world will end by the ire of nature, while some blame astronomical events for the end of the world. but one thing that everyone misses is global weaponization. Mohit Suri — a half-paralyzed infamous entrepreneur — finds this a concern. As he is a very powerful and strong speaker as well, he tries to forewarn The Prime Minister, but filthy politics foils his plan. Then The Srinagar Terror Attack wages A war against Pakistan and so stirs Mohit's hope. He invites Prime Minister to his company and time travels in 2068. Then what they see is dizzy, which shakes their conscience completely. But still, the war continues. . . . The Ministers have gone corrupted. The Government has fallen. The terrorism is at its peak. And the world is standing on the brink of end. So, over to this, Mohit thinks of an earthshaking idea that brings a new era. What is that — which compels the whole world to peek deep into their existence? Must read the book to know!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pravin Gupta
• Release date: Oct 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393663614

Pravin Gupta

P ravin Gupta is the author of The Dark Light: Amethyst Heart  in the City, which is the first installment in an epic tale of six-part series The Dark Light. As his debut novel got published amid the corona pandemic, it caught the rapid limelight, getting featured in two major national newspapers, Dainik Jagran and Hindustan. Mr. Gupta loves writing. But more than that, he loves to photograph the wildlife, the world of animals and picturesque landscapes. He has two aims of his life; either to become a software engineer or become the Prime Minister. He also writes poetry which he regularly posts on his Instagram account. His work reflects thepain he has bore, theexperience he has and the problems he has faced. You can easily contact him through the following platforms: Facebook: www.facebook.com/pravingupta2020 Instagram: www.instagram.com/enigmaticpravin Twitter: www.twitter.com/enigmaticpravin E-Mail: [e-mail]

Book preview

Glimpses of the Future

Pravin Gupta is the author of The Dark Light: Amethyst Heart in the City, which is the first installment in an epic tale of six-part series The Dark Light .

As his debut novel got published amid the corona pandemic, it caught the rapid limelight, getting featured in two major national newspapers, Dainik Jagran and Hindustan. Mr. Gupta loves writing. But more than that, he loves to photograph the wildlife, the world of animals and picturesque landscapes. He has two aims of his life; either to become a software engineer or become the Prime Minister. He also writes poetry which he regularly posts on his Instagram account. His work reflects the pain he has bore, the experience he has and the problems he has faced.

You can easily contact him through the following platforms:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/pravingupta2020

Instagram: www.instagram.com/enigmaticpravin

Twitter: www.twitter.com/enigmaticpravin

E-Mail: [e-mail]

Before You Start

Dear reader, my friend ,

Thank you for picking up Glimpses of the Future. Thank you for giving some time to yourself to relax. Thank you for sparing some time to listen me.

First of all, I want to request you that please don't look for the fact and logic while reading this book. As this book contains war concept, I want to foretell you that I am not aware of the process of a war conduction. I literally don't know how a war takes place, how it starts, how it finishes, what role does government plays in there, what does Army do, what strategies troops use, etc. Instead I would suggest you to focus upon the story, what I am trying to tell, what event is happening there, what's moral lesson there.

My purpose of writing this book is making you aware of a harsh truth — that you are brainwashed. You think that the system you are living in is as it is supposed to be. This is a lie my story will expose. You will know in this book that how corruptness is eating you, how you are being filled with hatred, and despite of tremendous efforts why you are not able to love, how your God is weaponized, how you are weaponized, and how is weaponized the whole world.

Friend, I have tested my potential, and the results are baffling.  The human is capable of doing anything he/she wants. While most of the people are ignorant about this fact, some people knowing it are exploiting the others. Perhaps that's why menacing things like weapons, dangerous drugs, etc. are there. To face the truth, you need to be rational. One-sided thinking confines people to lesser knowledge.

Being an introvert and rational, I saw many things what makes humanity sink in shame. I saw people falling at every possible condition in order to vilify their own kind, demonize the good and murdering the innocents. They have been cruel. I am myself a victim of their whimsical desires. In this age where social media is to spread fake news, democracy has turned into dictatorship, kind is cruel, good is bad, you can't trust anyone. That's why I chose to write this book. I knew if I would cry out, try to make people think, it would make no sense in this hustling atmosphere. Then I thought of book. After all, who could have much patience than a book. It would have been stupidity to shout in the crowd where people have their ears cut off. I knew only those people would buy my book who would be willing to bring the change, to see a weaponless world, a borderless world.

Through this book, I want to convey the message of love, the message of peace, the message of harmony. I hope, my friend, that you will also view my story by the angle same as I have written it.

Lots of love and respect,

Pravin

"You use war to maintain peace,

while the war is a threat to peace itself."

— Pravin Gupta

Chapter 1

An untold truth

I t is a very strange thing, Mohit Suri, a fifty-nine years entrepreneur, having his own IT company, told to the audiences, who had sat facing him, whereas he was conveying his words to them by sitting on a simple wheelchair, which ran on his fingertips.

A short buzz of words broke amidst the audience.

Humans have incalculable potential to hold control over the cosmos but yet they underestimate their powers. They consider Wormhole is unproven, while on the same basis they accept the whole concept of Big Bang theory. . . If the term 'Time Machine' is raised then we can also prove it true, either today or tomorrow. . . . or it may be hidden somewhere among our past, our history, and we may be wandering through it since ever but we are probably unaware of it.

While he stopped, he saw some hands grabbing the chin. All the faces in the auditorium showed a supreme interest in Mohit's speech. They could not miss a single word and if they did, all of their effort of listening almost-old-turned entrepreneur would have used in vain.

"But what I suppose, some inventions should remain undiscovered. . . . Well, can you think of a world where you can change the events on your fingertips using some gadgets like, Time Machine or any other method like, Wormhole? — I know, you can imagine such a world but you can't imagine its consequence. With such uncontrollable power, you will distort the working of the universe, natural progress, and the happenings by destiny. You will distort yourself!

Starting from fire and wheel, humans have now reached to nuclear bombs and spaceships . . . from revolution to mayhem. Yes, and the reality stands before you. Just crane your head and see around yourself. What you are going to observe? He waited for some seconds, looking at every face, which was filled with excitement.

While the audience was trying to make out the situation what Mohit was making them see, he giggled slowly and turned his wheelchair in the left direction.

Millions of children, helpless, hungry, homeless, grieving, and crying by sitting on the footpath or by lying in garbage houses. And millions of good section people of society seeing them but unfortunately doing nothing because they think, it is destined. On this remark, Mr. Suri's face was glowing red with anger for those people who didn't show mercy on the needy and helpless.

By staring at the faces of the audience in the auditorium, Mohit could tell that they felt embarrassed as well as shameful.

"One thing I can't understand . . . that if an ugly and shabby-looking man or woman demands food or anything, that's called alms. But if the same thing is being demanded by a man in saffron attire, then it is called sacred benefaction. Now, if that ugly man or woman will put on the saffron attire and then beg, then unexpectedly it would be called sacred benefaction, and if the man in saffron attire will take off his clothes and put on a torn clothes and then beg, it would be called alms. Both cases can be interchangeably observed. There is no value of human. Value is of his clothes, his look, and his money.

One night, he continued, his sound reaching every ear, even to those who were sitting backstage, controlling the seminar. "I thought and thought and thought as much as I could that what the hell destiny is? What destiny is the name of? Why everyone blames or appreciates it?"

An old man sitting in the front row of chair saw the lecturer's wheelchair swerving a little in the right direction.

Then I was answered by my own soul, my own inner conscience that destiny is a hypothetical belief. . . a term, means to confound people. There is nothing like destiny that exists in reality. In fact, it is not good either to be used. It doesn't have any role in your life and neither anywhere else. Whatever had happened, is happening and will happen with you, all depend on your needs. . . . Well, I want to ask a question from those who still believe that humans work according to destiny — By this time, his wheelchair was inching the front row, which rose up to a specific height, but he then turned it to the opposite direction as the wooden platform ended. There were more than a hundred of people, staring down at him from stands that had been rising on much height than the front row.

If destiny decides what a person will do then tell me, why has it been quoted that our today decides our tomorrow?. . . He gloated faces as much as he could, knowing that they would certainly accept the hard inconvertible truth, which they had been brainwashed about.

No one dared to answer because they had no answer. What they would say. . . . that both the cases are different. If yes, it won't work. There was more to it than that and Mr. Suri was completely confident about it.

If indeed it is true, he resumed firmly, his fingers rounding the lever of wheelchair control. That our today decides our tomorrow, then admittedly destiny doesn't have any role in our life. It is we who do it all, it is we who make our tomorrow. We can change what is going to be happened in the future by managing our today's activities.

Mohit waited for once more, every fiber of him shaking with the impact of his words. He seemed to be looking at the people with a deep despise, like police upon the thief, which made his body tremble over the electronic moving chair.

He should not lose control. . . He must control himself. . . He should be in manner. . . . Yes, he would not throw himself off the chair just to motivate some hundred people. It wasn't compulsory as compared to his life.

His one leg was half-paralyzed, making his body hard to move. He used to have surrounded by some special personnel, who always helped in putting him anywhere, placing him off the wheelchair, providing whatever he demanded, and doing other works under his directions.

"Nothing is fixed. . . . In fact, every day, every hour, every minute and even every millisecond, the world keeps creating itself from a new foundation. Every time, new changes take place. Nothing is happening as fixed. . . . Alright, now let's take some examples for sure. If you want to pick a television remote from your table, will you wait for your destiny to do it for you, or will you yourself pick it up? — of course, you will lean against the table and pick the remote up, without waiting for someone else to do it for you.

"In another instance, you know tomorrow is your examination and you also know that your destiny says that you will top the examination. Then you think that 'when I am supposed to top the examination, why am I studying tonight?' and next morning you give examination and you are failed. Then you will repent why you depended on destiny. And then you will question yourself, 'when my passing in the examination was destined, how I got failed?' You can't rely on your destiny. . . . But, even if you want to put faith in destiny or want to believe on fate, then I would say that your deeds decide your destiny and expectation without effort is futile."

The audience suddenly burst into claps, applauding Mohit's speech as loud as they did for the rockstar in a concert. And no doubt, Mohit Suri was a rockstar of motivational speech. What a strong and great effect was there in his words! For some minutes, there could be heard only screams and applause.

And you can't subdue the future activities by sitting either leisurely, he said over the noise of the audience, which slowly seemed to decrease as he continued, You have to stand up and walk until your destination is still far. But one more thing, The audience maintained silence, making not even a slight breathing sound. Then Mohit prompted his explanation, "Keep the destination in your mind just to achieve something but not to stop when you will conquer it. . . . because life is about the journey, not about the destination."

Once again, the auditorium was filled with cheers and applause. Every viewer there gushed out their praise for his speech. But he seemed to be immersed in motivating them, yet in full enthusiasm. He rolled the lever and his wheelchair moved by left direction as before. He waited until the walls of the auditorium finally absorbed every sound.

The worst decision you can ever take is stopping yourself. Bringing yourself at halt means stopping your life, he chuckled lightly, moving his wheelchair to and from on the wooden platform, a huge screen displaying an image behind him. Yes. . . I know, this may sound ridiculous but who we're to refuse the truth. Philosophy is a powerful weapon to prove it all. And I have that thing. Once you have decided you won't go ahead of it, how would you be able to see what lies ahead? You will not be able to see what others can see if they will keep going. He paused for a while, and behind him, on the screen zoomed another sentence, which read: MOHIT SURI: CONQUERING EVERY possibility.

Have you ever observed still water in the pond? On this question, many figures looked at each other, seemingly asking Have you done so? If you may have seen there, then you would have found that water has been contaminated and different kinds of bacteria and microorganisms are filthy it up. . . . Can you think of a particular reason?

Some nodded thoughtfully. Then Mohit let out a short, sudden chuckle, his eyes sharply roving at right.

No? — So simple thing it is! — He added motivationally. Because stillness can be the home either of a new idea or of destructive ignition. In the case of water, the stillness only germinates filth. But if we talk about humans, in their case, innovative ideas come very rarely. But in most of the cases, unemployed humans, the humans who have unlogically been turned to stone, emerge as a burden on mankind. Like still water, are humans. If they would stop themselves, many evil ideas, useless stuff, and tiredness begin residing inside them.

A small girl among the crowd of viewers wondered, can humans too mold themselves in the shape of the object they are put in, like water, don't they have any specific color, like water, can they be drunk, like water? until Mohit's next sound brought her sharply back to earth.

So, I believe everyone should keep walking, limping, staggering, running, flying but should never stop. Last sentence he finished in a high-pitched sound. You have miscalculated your tactics. It is not good. Re-consider it and accept it. See, there are so many like it coming ahead. But how could you see it if you are stuck with your past! . . . . Leave the past and accept the future — Ignore the worst, notice the best — Forget about impossibilities and CONQUER EVERY DAMN POSSIBILITY. The last four words were so loud and emphasized that the whole auditorium echoed with its frequency.

Applause shattered the warm air inside a tightly packed room like breaking glass, and it seemed interminable. Mohit Suri leaned against the audience, still in his wheelchair, and joined his both hands, thanking their appreciations. All the people stood up on their seats, which rose in levels around the oval wooden stage, their hands still making claps.

Then suddenly as Mohit's wheelchair turned back away from the hundred faces, every corner of the room was suffused with orange and blue light, which seemed to come from the ceiling. Two security guards hurried on the stage to help him out. They stood on either side of him, following the trail of his wheelchair. As he made his wheelchair move out through a door to backstage, the gigantic screen flashed another image of a logo, which was the official logo of Mohit Suri's IT company.

People sitting in the front row saw him vanishing backstage, while the people who had sat at very height, did not even get any glimpse of his exit.

Mohit's wheelchair ran through a small canal-like area to the main hall, where were visible some more guards, except his own, and some officials who were checking the management of the seminar in their tablets. As he passed from there, he spotted a lady, whose hairs were short, was wearing a black suit like that of his security guards, and she had her eyes busy in observing controls in a tablet. Yet, those long, camel-like legs were oddly familiar. . . .

Himani? said Mohit incredulously.

The lady, who seemed, however, old, looked up and turned her head, avoiding the tablet, to see who just called her. She was Himani Mehta, a worker in his company. Mohit had raised her wage last month after an urging letter from her to do so.

Did you just call me, sir? squeaked Himani curiously. Mr. Suri brought his wheelchair near her.

I feel sad for you, he told her. I heard that. Your son!

Not so much to concern, sir. It's all alright. He will be back very soon . . . But I am happy you care about it. she said softly.

Why should I not concern, Himani! After all, you did everything for him and what in turn he's giving you — just tears of pain.

Himani wanted to cry savagely but she had to stop herself, at least not here should she start. Her son had cut his vein just because a girl refused his proposal of being in a relationship, and was admitted to Delhi State Hospital.

Let it go, sir, she said, suddenly changing her tone to normal rather than emotional. By the way, your seminar, sir. It was fantastic! I listened to it till the last from here. Can't tell you how effective and inspirational it was. I wish you could continue it. It struck me dumb! Still, each and every word is echoing in my ear, especially your that quotation, now, she mimicked Mohit loudly in the same way as originally he had quoted. DEED DECIDES DESTINY AND EXPECTATION WITHOUT EFFORT IS FUTILE.

Mohit's blue eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Himani's colorless face. I can see. . . . whispered he calmly. Your face clearly shows that how sharply you conceal tensions. . . Why don't you try to share it! It will decrease.

Already I have the burden of tensions. But if I will go to keep it on my face to let everyone know my situation, I won't be able to live like that way. I can't thank you enough for your goodness, sir. Your bits of help can't be counted and neither can be your goodness. I will always pray for your longevity.

I wonder, he said, smiling. how do you do it. Despite such a deep problem in your family, you are not leaving your work, that is, to work in my company. Hats off to your faithfulness. . . . But now, it is my duty to look in your problem and try to solve it. What are you saying?

No-no, Himani stammered, looking awestruck. Nothing is serious to look on, sir. That's nothing in comparison with your other enormous tasks and furthermore how will you do it despite your extremely busy schedule? . . . better let it go.

Tomorrow, eleven in the morning. I will be happy to see you there! declared Mohit, with a very strained smile.

Without addressing her anymore, he twiddled the forward knob of his wheelchair and went away. Seeing him go, Himani leaped on her heels and cried as if she was trying to call him back to have some more words, As you wish, sir. I shall be there on time!

Suddenly, Mohit stopped and rolled his wheelchair by a little angle.

And don't forget to bring some drinks. he laughed awkwardly. We will have some sort of fun there too along with your son.

She caught his words with difficulty due to the slight distance between them that made Mohit's sound approach her dimly. He was an extremely desired image in the country. So, giving his part of the time to someone less-important was not possible. That was why Himani tried to divert him to where his requirement was much compulsory than at her son. But as so high he had his head touching the sky, so down were his legs stuck with the soil. Someone belonging to a common family did matter and was important for him in equal amounts as someone rich and renowned.

The next morning, though not on exact time but twenty-seven minutes late as he had informed to Himani he would come, Mohit Suri approached the State Hospital.

The second floor, counter number four, sir. informed an assistant doctor, who was passing from there as Mohit seized him to ask where Gajendra Mehta was admitted in.

Thank you, doctor.

He went exactly where he was told — the second floor, counter number four, security guards giving him cover. The patients, their family, or whoever were present there beamed, bowed, and cast blissful stare as he went past them, still in his wheelchair.

May I please meet Mr. Gajendra Mehta? he asked on the counter, where had sat a lady, who was checking the list of patients in the computer.

Meanwhile, she looked up and acted as though she had just spotted a superstar, she could hardly believe on her eyes.

Oh, Mr. Suri. Why not, sir! I am surprised you are here. Sorry, sir — oh, yes. You are asking for Mr. Gajendra Mehta. raved the lady, who, for the very first time in her life, had seen any infamous personality. This way please, sir.