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CHRONOS EXPRESS: Time Nexus
#LastTrain
Every time I have been in this late night train, the sound of the wheels on the tracks has been my favorite; but tonight it was different – it suddenly sounded as if it echoed something I refused to recall. Except for several flickering lights, human beings disappeared from the premises; yet the fluorescent surface of the contemporary floor illuminated the ambiance most eerily.
When I got through the door to step into the carriage proper, it was as though a change had been made. The smell of the chamber was nostalgic at its time, filled with the aroma of old texts, polished furnishing, and a mysterious aroma of flowers mixed with the unknown.Thus, my eyes got accustomed to the low light, revealing passengers with clothing from different eras. To my left, a resplendent Roman centurion was honing his gladius in an almost erotic stroke, while seated a few places away from him was a demure Victorian woman fanning herself in what could be termed as pure sophistication in her corseted attire of frills and lace. Beside her, a samurai was in a deep-seated state and was only holding the handle of his katana, a large sword.
I spotted an unoccupied chair and gingerly, apprehension and curiosity cogs turning, sank into it. But where could this train be going and for what sorts of purpose was this strange aggregation being collected?
A small melodic note rang, and the train started to motion. The carriage lamps dimmed and then came back on, and then a conductor materialized at the front of the carriage, in timeless-country-metropolitan-railway-engineer clothes. He started speaking, and he had that commanding voice which is so commonly heard in news anchors.
“Ladies and gentlemen, time travelers, welcome aboard the Chronos Express, the vessel bringing you to the Nexus of Time, where history overlaps with the future.”
Murmurs spread through the carriage, and the voices in the different languages and accents were like a dream, like music. The Nexus of Time? The name only awakened a primal part of me that included a sense of curiosity and a mission I did not know the name of.
As the train gradually picked up pace, the scenery outside the moving window changed in a big way. In one scene, we were racing across the desert with pyramids projecting heat haze in the scorching sun and running through the camera. The next scene portrayed feudal structures and green countryside. The passing of time became surreal, adding a sense of continuity as one era gave way to the next.
Even so, I glanced at the man sitting next to me, an Italian Renaissance artist who was very carefully and elegantly drawing in a full-leather bound notebook. Finally, I mustered the courage to speak, thinking that perhaps headaches and blurry vision are not the only thing I can get from an anime convention for four days, “Do you know why we’re here?”
He raised his gaze to mine and his look was as composed as the words he uttered – informed and enigmatic. “We are here to watch the epochs coming together, learn the story of history being made right before our eyes When at the Nexus one will have the answer to how the world is made; maybe, he will see the future’s directions.
They were his last words, spoken softly, that made silence fall like a dam that burst and left one listening to the aftermath of its downfall. I looked at all the people around, all of which were in their own world yet fate had destined all of them to be on this train. The train wasn’t simply a means of passage through the temporal domains; it was chance to experience what lied beyond our own epochs.
There, the groups mingled a lot and the discourses were becoming quite heated as we advanced. The centurion and the samurai thus shared anecdotes of how they were Both gentlemen of wars and battles for personal honor. Here the Victorian lady was engaging in intellectual discourse with an enlightening philosopher of the Victorian literature across the gap of two centuries.
Time went on and when it seemed like it had stepped forward just for a moment, the train slowed down. Through the window there was an incredible view of the sea — its emptiness was the unity of time and space, the beauty of the present moment. This is where we reached the Nexus of Time.
When I disembarked, I had a realization that I must complete the task and could not stop halfway. Here, in this spatial and temporal point of crisis intersection, we were provided with an opportunity to forge our histories by eliminating our sins and construct a progressive society. Not merely a passage in time but a voyage, and if there was one thing she had learned, it was the value of voyage.
This I discovered when I was talking to my fellow travelers on the bus and then found out that, as much as we are different, it is not these distinguishing factors that make us who we are.My view of this is that the four letters were written in different centuries, but I guess we can all think in terms of the sentiments they expressed: their goals, their dreams, and their nightmares.In the Nexus of Time, there was an understanding of what being the like and yet different species entailed, and togetherness was corded within the culture.
© S.A.Behera's
Every time I have been in this late night train, the sound of the wheels on the tracks has been my favorite; but tonight it was different – it suddenly sounded as if it echoed something I refused to recall. Except for several flickering lights, human beings disappeared from the premises; yet the fluorescent surface of the contemporary floor illuminated the ambiance most eerily.
When I got through the door to step into the carriage proper, it was as though a change had been made. The smell of the chamber was nostalgic at its time, filled with the aroma of old texts, polished furnishing, and a mysterious aroma of flowers mixed with the unknown.Thus, my eyes got accustomed to the low light, revealing passengers with clothing from different eras. To my left, a resplendent Roman centurion was honing his gladius in an almost erotic stroke, while seated a few places away from him was a demure Victorian woman fanning herself in what could be termed as pure sophistication in her corseted attire of frills and lace. Beside her, a samurai was in a deep-seated state and was only holding the handle of his katana, a large sword.
I spotted an unoccupied chair and gingerly, apprehension and curiosity cogs turning, sank into it. But where could this train be going and for what sorts of purpose was this strange aggregation being collected?
A small melodic note rang, and the train started to motion. The carriage lamps dimmed and then came back on, and then a conductor materialized at the front of the carriage, in timeless-country-metropolitan-railway-engineer clothes. He started speaking, and he had that commanding voice which is so commonly heard in news anchors.
“Ladies and gentlemen, time travelers, welcome aboard the Chronos Express, the vessel bringing you to the Nexus of Time, where history overlaps with the future.”
Murmurs spread through the carriage, and the voices in the different languages and accents were like a dream, like music. The Nexus of Time? The name only awakened a primal part of me that included a sense of curiosity and a mission I did not know the name of.
As the train gradually picked up pace, the scenery outside the moving window changed in a big way. In one scene, we were racing across the desert with pyramids projecting heat haze in the scorching sun and running through the camera. The next scene portrayed feudal structures and green countryside. The passing of time became surreal, adding a sense of continuity as one era gave way to the next.
Even so, I glanced at the man sitting next to me, an Italian Renaissance artist who was very carefully and elegantly drawing in a full-leather bound notebook. Finally, I mustered the courage to speak, thinking that perhaps headaches and blurry vision are not the only thing I can get from an anime convention for four days, “Do you know why we’re here?”
He raised his gaze to mine and his look was as composed as the words he uttered – informed and enigmatic. “We are here to watch the epochs coming together, learn the story of history being made right before our eyes When at the Nexus one will have the answer to how the world is made; maybe, he will see the future’s directions.
They were his last words, spoken softly, that made silence fall like a dam that burst and left one listening to the aftermath of its downfall. I looked at all the people around, all of which were in their own world yet fate had destined all of them to be on this train. The train wasn’t simply a means of passage through the temporal domains; it was chance to experience what lied beyond our own epochs.
There, the groups mingled a lot and the discourses were becoming quite heated as we advanced. The centurion and the samurai thus shared anecdotes of how they were Both gentlemen of wars and battles for personal honor. Here the Victorian lady was engaging in intellectual discourse with an enlightening philosopher of the Victorian literature across the gap of two centuries.
Time went on and when it seemed like it had stepped forward just for a moment, the train slowed down. Through the window there was an incredible view of the sea — its emptiness was the unity of time and space, the beauty of the present moment. This is where we reached the Nexus of Time.
When I disembarked, I had a realization that I must complete the task and could not stop halfway. Here, in this spatial and temporal point of crisis intersection, we were provided with an opportunity to forge our histories by eliminating our sins and construct a progressive society. Not merely a passage in time but a voyage, and if there was one thing she had learned, it was the value of voyage.
This I discovered when I was talking to my fellow travelers on the bus and then found out that, as much as we are different, it is not these distinguishing factors that make us who we are.My view of this is that the four letters were written in different centuries, but I guess we can all think in terms of the sentiments they expressed: their goals, their dreams, and their nightmares.In the Nexus of Time, there was an understanding of what being the like and yet different species entailed, and togetherness was corded within the culture.
© S.A.Behera's
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