The Revolution

Pleas read "the meeting" before reading this post.

It was a rainy saturday evening and Alex was sitting by the window watching the rain splatter against the window pane. The rain drops bouncing off the window panes were making him wet, but, that pleased him. The vodka in his hand was as clear as the falling water. He liked the way his throat burned when the sips of vodka went in , every burning sensation an infinite ecstasy. He madly wanted a drink to wind-off the day.

The day had been long and tiresome , for it was not an easy task to go and meet yourself and convince not to kill yourself.In the morning, when he had been talking, he had felt the grip of fear--the same feeling he had felt 5 months back, when he had been participating in the march and firing orders had been given.How he survived that incident, god alone knew. And that day he had promised himself not to do anything foolish again, not to do anything that he would have to regret later, and, today, he had broken that promise. He knew the repurcussions of an illegal time migration,even if it was only for 10 mins.Who was he fooling but himself, when he thought that 10 min into the past would not change anything.

He sighed and realised that there was no point thinking about the repurcusions... the action had already been commited, and the penalty was known--death---courtesy, a firing squad.An illegal time migration did not require a case and hearing and punishment and all, all it required, was to get recorded, and death.The squad would be here anytime now,but, Alex was not afraid of them anymore. He had finished all of his tasks for this life.

The next sip brought a feeling of content---content at the way he had conviced his younger counterpart. He knew himself very well. All it had required, was to give a glimpse of the future--the rest would automatically be understood and acted upon.But until he could choose the exact words to utter, it had been a harrowing experience.The same feeling of helplessness--- mouth going dry. Feeling as if you were standing in a crowded room, with the microphone in front of you, everyone watching you, and , you had nothing to say.To avoid this thought, Alex started thinking about the revolution. He still vividly remembered that cold January morning when the great bard had been executed.That execution was the trigger point that had bought the collapse of the monarchy(or the "government"--as it was officially called).The bard had been a kind and gentle man, who was liked by everyone except the one's who mattered, and, revolutionary songs talking of freedom from tyranny hadn't exactly helped him either.When the bard had been executed, the revolutionaries found a rallying point.If today, the government shoots the messenger of freedom, tomorrow, it would shoot freedom itself, and, as always, it had been the students who stood up for the cause. Ofcourse, sending riot-police to the university campus only stoked the fire instead of dousing it.The student movement was soon joined by traders who saw better profits in an open market(an off-shoot of proper democracy) and the working class(all they wanted was better working conditions--but the monarch was too much in the sky to hear their voice ) and the artists and intellectuals(cos the revolution had the power of free will) and the politicians(because, by now, the revolution was supported by a majority of voters)and the army(who understood that supporting the monarch was a lost cause).

When more than a million people from all corners of the country and all walks of life had gathered in front of the monarch's palace as a show of strength, all he could do was announce elections and run away.Alex's thoughts were suddenly broken by a crisp knock on the door.He got up and opened the door. The squad leader was standing with a letter in his hand."Mr Alex. A.Jeffrey, as you are well aware, an illegal time migration happened today..........do u have any last wishes, which we will try to fulfill to the best of our ability "."Just let me finish my Vodka"--Alex replied.