Generation Infinite
Generation Infinite
As usual, when I looked down from above the clouds, I found two youngsters walking to a school with bright shining eyes and enthusiastic body movements. One with a few thick books and another with just a small gadget. Both looked the same, with no difference either in face or in body, but the one with the tiny gadget seems to be far superior to the latter in regard to confidence.
Both entered their class, and the one with the gadget was relating and mingling with others, whereas the latter was absorbed in his book. Whether it was a break or drills, the latter was alone with his books, whereas the other guy was moving with the crowd—pulling them at times and leading them at times. Even during exciting school events, the latter preferred to just be with his darling books, while the gadget boy found comfort in being with the moment—capturing and modifying them with his little gadget. One boy, as the time passed, became brighter than all, whereas the other started to get dimmer.
The last session got over just as the teacher went out to grab the register and mark their attendance. The bookish boy went to his twin, took him with his little gadget, and swallowed him at once. Nobody betrayed any amazement, as if it was quite a normal scenario. As the teacher came with the register, all were seated as usual in a disciplined order for the attendance. Each student answered against their name and left the class to enjoy their evening recreations. And then came the turn of the last one on the list, “Generation Infinite,” and the teacher looked towards the last boy from the corner of that incubating classroom. Without any pause or anything unusual, he made his obvious response and left the class like others.
He gave a look to 2 dusty frames of the hall -in one he was with thick books, and in the less dusty one he was with a tiny gadget. And now after his learning, he looked up and cast mecast an unusual glance at me. And so, he saw in me a mixture of both the dusty frames. A look that showed him the combined potential invested in him by me. A look to begin anew with me. It was to be different, unlike both in the dusty frames, and a progressive path. With these possibilities, he went out of the school barehanded but clothed with his pristine self–which made his eyes shine brighter and his body movements more enthusiastic.
Written by Savio Sabu
Edited by Gressica Gandhi
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