YEAR 32,012 November.
Somewhere in the Himalayan mountains.
Cold wind moved through the tall trees. Snow covered the ground like a white blanket. The sky was clear and peaceful. It looked like nothing bad could ever happen in a place like this.
Two boys who were 8 years old were running and laughing.
"Vashu, slow down! You will fall!" a woman shouted.
Another woman laughed and said, "Shri, you chase Shiva. I will catch Vashu."
Vashu was thin and calm by nature. Shiva was strong, fast, and full of energy. They were best friends, like brothers.
"Catch me if you can!" Shiva shouted.
They ran toward a small wooden bridge between two snowy hills.
Suddenly…
The ground shook.
At first, it was small, like a drum beating inside the earth.
Then it became stronger.
The trees shook. Snow fell from branches. Birds flew away in fear.
"Earthquake!" Shri shouted.
Anju looked around in panic.
"Boys! Come back!"
But before they could reach them, a loud cracking sound filled the air.
The ice sheets above the mountain began to slide.
Shri saw it first.
Her eyes widened in horror.
"Anju!" she screamed. "Run! The ice is sliding! Fast, cross the bridge!"
Anju grabbed Shiva's hand and pushed him forward.
"Run! Don't stop!"
Shri pulled Vashu toward her.
The ground shook harder. Snow rushed down like a white wall.
"Go, go!" Shri shouted.
The boys ran.
They crossed the bridge just as the ice came crashing down behind them. A huge sound filled the air. Snow covered everything.
When the shaking stopped, silence returned.
The boys turned back.
Their parents were gone.
Only snow.
Only broken trees.
Only silence.
"Mother?" Vashu whispered.
"Mother?" Shiva shouted.
No answer.
They searched. They screamed. They dug into the snow with their bare hands. Their fingers became numb. Their voices became weak.
Nothing.
As the sun began to set, the truth became clear.
They were alone.
Vashu fell on his knees and cried.
"They… they are not coming back…"
Shiva stood still, his fists tight. His eyes were wet, but his face was hard.
"We have to move," he said. "If we stay, we will die."
Vashu looked up.
"Where will we go?"
"To the plains," Shiva replied. "North. There will be people. Food. Life."
"...Mother once told me a story about the northern plains."
With heavy hearts and tired bodies, they began walking.
Days passed.
Their food finished. Their strength faded.
Their eyes became blurry, not only from hunger, but from tears.
"My stomach hurts," Vashu whispered.
"Mine too," Shiva replied. "But we can't stop."
They found plants, but nothing safe to eat. Only wild animals and frozen land.
On the same day, they saw a wild boar.
Shiva's eyes lit up.
"That is food."
Vashu stepped back.
"No… we can't kill it."
"We will die if we don't eat," Shiva said.
"Killing is wrong," Vashu replied softly. "I don't want to take a life for my hunger."
Shiva became angry.
"So hunger is okay, but death is not?" he said.
"You go ahead if you want. I will hunt it and catch up to you."
Vashu looked down.
"It's not that I am not hungry… I just don't want blood on my hands."
Shiva ran down from the mountains to hunt the boar.
And told Vasu.
"Stay right there... I will be back."
Their character take different directions.
Not because they hated each other.
But because life had forced them to choose differently.
One chose morality and other choose survival
And the mountains watched silently
as two boys took their first steps
into a cruel world.