Discovering Future Me: Embracing Sustainability for a Balanced 2060
Bedtime can become repetitive. I retrieved my glasses and picked up the cane next to the bed. I proceeded to my granddaughter’s room for a chat. While contemplating the future version of myself in 2060, I discovered her fully absorbed in her laptop. Upon noticing me, she greeted, Nanu, please have a seat. I need to go to my tutoring session. I settled myself in her room. The laptop screen was visible, but my vision remained weak even with my glasses on. Suddenly, I remembered how long it had been since I last checked Facebook. It used to be a platform that both young and old enthusiastically participated in, but now it felt unfamiliar to me.
With considerable effort, I remembered my password and logged in. To my surprise, my inbox contained 8,678 messages. The interface felt unfamiliar, and the number of friends had dwindled from 4,788 to just 28 on the chat list. Perhaps, like me, they no longer used Facebook due to age. Upon entering the inbox, I found a few messages from close friends. One friend mentioned being unwell and anticipated not living much longer—this message was five years old. I later learned that he passed away four years ago. Another dear friend, my “bestu,” died nine years ago. Reminiscing through our chats brought a mix of joy and sorrow. Many group conversations reminded me of the laughter we shared, though most friends were now gone.
Then, I noticed a message from an old love. Curiosity led me to her profile, which revealed her last post was 16 years ago, featuring a picture with her granddaughter. As I scrolled, I found family photos—she, her husband, children, and grandchildren, all appearing content. In one photo, Liza (a pseudonym) appeared with hair now long and white, some reddened with henna, wearing a white saree—a stark contrast to the vibrant image I held of her.
As I reflected, I saw my own reflection on the screen, acknowledging my old age. Had Liza seen me, she might have called me an old grandfather. I wondered if she was still alive until I found a post shared on her ID. It was a condolence message stating she had passed away from cardiac arrest five years ago. Tears welled up as memories of our promises to each other surfaced. I continued browsing, finding many friends’ profiles still active though they had departed this world. One friend, known for daily selfies, succumbed to cancer 20 years ago. Another, who posted humorous jokes, was now untraceable. A writer friend had posted eight years ago about being left in an old age home by his son.
When I checked my own profile, it took a while to find my last post amid numerous tags. It was from 33 years ago, detailing a tour with my wife and daughter. Older posts brought laughter, a stark contrast to the tears that came unbidden.
Just then, my granddaughter called out, “Nanu, I’m ready for tuition. Can I have the laptop?” I inquired, “Do you go to tuition with the laptop?” She laughed, explaining, “We have virtual classes now, not books.” Her remark about us being ‘primitive people’ of the past made me chuckle. Indeed, today’s modern lifestyle makes us seem like primitives to the youth of 2060.
Reflecting on the passage of time, it is clear that while technology and lifestyles evolve, so too must our approach to sustainability. The memories stored in my digital history remind me that the world we leave for our grandchildren must be cared for with the same dedication and foresight. As we embrace virtual classes and digital interactions, we must also commit to preserving our environment. By integrating sustainable practices into our daily lives, we can ensure that future generations inherit a world that is not only technologically advanced but also ecologically balanced. This is the evolving world we live in, and it is our responsibility to sustain it for those who come after us.
