The good earth is the same on which Alexander the Great once walked, on which Lord Buddha once sat in meditation. Over the oceans that heave and roar, sailed, once upon a time, the great Francis Drake. Generations came and vanished, like waves breaking on the shore. Civilisations changed while man remained basically the same. And so came the year 2002. Time to look back—and perhaps ahead.

First, a peep into the olden times. Let us try to visualise the life of a king in the days before the advent of science and technology, Whether we think of Ashoka or Babur, Alexander the Great or Timurlane, the impression remains much the same. They had no table fans, not to think of air-conditioners.

In his memoirs, Babur wrote of the searing heat and the dust and longed for the green valleys of the lands in the north-west where he had come from. Foam rubber not having been invented, the throne of a king was not quite comfortable—not even the Peacock Throne.

Once Alexander had perhaps a blistering headache which cost some of his courtiers their lives. The agony would not abate. Tossing his head, he might have wished he had some miracle powder to give instant relief. Poor Alexander! He could not even get ten paise worth of aspirin for all his wealth!

Unlike today, good music must have been a rare thing in the past. A few good singers would travel across the country, and the fortunate ones would hear them. And when they were gone, memories alone would remain. "Son, you should have listened to Tansen," an old man would say to his grandchild, and the son would not know how wonderfully well did Tansen sing.

Not until the invention of gramaphone records would there be storage of songs for the generations to follow. And the same thing with the great happenings: the memory of his coronation would gradually grow faint in a king’s mind and he would not know how he performed on that great occasion.

Not until the invention of cinematography would there be a live account of such happenings for future generations to see. And talking about comfort, Shahjehan would have given away a fortune for the second-hand car which your neighbour is unable to sell. Mumtaz Mahal would have considered it a fitting gesture of Shahjehan’s love for her.

Someone once said that if you want to be happy, just remember that most people do not have even the possessions you are having. Looking back is thus a very comfortable pastime, and could go on endlessly. Terylene, the magic fabric, transistors, computers, aircraft, railways, television, and so on.

It is indeed comforting to realise that we have been spared all that an average citizen underwent in those dark days. You do not have to visit your in-laws, through a perilous wilderness with an irate horse as your only companion.

But what does the future hold? In the 22nd century, the common man would perhaps live a more comfortable life than a steel and cotton king of today. Fashions will perhaps change. Women may go changing their eyes as a matter of fashion. This time, let me try those green Chinese type narrow eyes on the third shelf, one may hear a woman saying. And should you be literally losing your heart, there would be plenty of them available.

About drugs, what sort of medicines will there be 50 years hence? Perhaps an old man would walk into a chemist’s unsteadily and come out 10 years younger after gulping a couple of cobalt blue capsules.

Can there be education capsules too? Two green tablets with ice-cold water and the best period in Indian History is covered. One brown pill with lukewarm water and you know everything about military science. A red tablet with grapewine and the first lessons of electronics are soaked in your mind. Then one may ask: Quo Vadis? (Whither goest thou?) And the answer might be: towards God-like power, but not God-like wisdom.