Unknown

To Uli’s ears, used to the hustle and bustle of urban life, the silence was deafening. As he climbed onto the platform, Uli realized the reason for this tranquillity: There was no one around. Absolutely no one…Not one soul! To Uli’s mounting mystification, he perceived that the station was deserted. And what’s more, it looked like it had been that way for ages. There was a thick film of fine, red dust on everything. As Uli walked, he left footprints on the platform. All the stalls were closed and padlocked. Uli was baffled. The only reasonable explanation he could think of was that the station had, for some reason or the other, been closed down. But that did not explain his presence. Surely, even the most inefficient of railway authorities could not abandon a victim of a train accident on the tracks?

Uli’s rumbling stomach reminded him that it was hungry. Surprised, he glanced at his watch: It showed both the time and the date as 09:09:09 .Uli grunted in exasperation: The damn thing must have got damaged during the accident.

As Uli reached the ticket counter, not really expecting to find anyone, he contemplated what course of action to pursue. The sight of the counters made up his mind. The counters were shut and, like every thing else, smelt musty and unused for a long time. As he leant against a wall,a piece of plaster came off into his hands. In fact, the entire structure was in grave danger of collapse.

Uli got out hurriedly onto the street but a similar scenario greeted his bewildered eyes. There was no sign of life on the street and the street itself was cracked in places. The same red dust which he had seen in the station carpeted the street and engulfed the air, hanging eerily in the wind like a never-ending red veil. Cars and other vehicles line the street, their paint peeling off and the rust showing.

Questions he could not answer flooded into Uli’s mind, gnawing at his reason. Where was everybody? Why were all the shops closed? What about the station? Perhaps he was dead…Or maybe this was just a bad dream, which would vanish like the mist when he woke up.

Just then, he happened to glance at his watch again. It showed the time as 09:22. So, it was working after all…At that instant a thought just occurred to Uli. He retraced his steps and raced back to the station. He hurried to the newspaper-vendor’s stall. It was locked, of course. But the padlock was old and weak with rust. A few pulls and prods from Uli were enough to break it. His pulse racing, Uli flung open the door .Piles of old newspapers, yellow with age, littered the floor of the stall. When Uli tried to pick up a sheet, it crumbled to dust in his hands, just like some ancient parchment.

Uli bent down on his knees and tried to read, taking great care not to touch anything. He could just about make out the date.23 Nov…Tuesday….2100!

Uli could not, would not believe his eyes. He checked and rechecked the date on the paper. He looked at another paper .It was dated 24 Nov, 2100

By this time Uli’s mind was reeling, with shock as much as with anything else. He sat down, dazed and open-mouthed, and tried to think.

He, Ulysses Ramakrishnan, had travelled forward through time!

Uli still could not bring himself to believe this amazing,incredible, mindboggling, breathsucking reality, if it was reality at all, that is.