By: Aadya, Cub Correspondent, theinditimes.com
By 2035, humanity stood at the edge of a new era. Climate alarms echoed across continents, self-driving electric cities replaced chaotic traffic, drones delivered food faster than thoughts, and AI companions quietly filled the silence of human loneliness.
But the greatest transformation was beyond Earth—space was no longer a dream reserved for astronauts. Commercial space travel was real.
Lunar Explorations International, a global collaboration of India, USA, Japan, and Europe, announced a historic mission:
The first civilian-scientific expedition to establish a semi-permanent Moon Research Base, “Aarohan-1”.
Every news channel trembled with excitement. Billboards flashed images of the Moon rising above gleaming rockets. Children rehearsed space rehearsals in schools. Humanity felt united by something larger than itself.
And among the selected forty travelers—scientists, poets, engineers, and dreamers—was me.
The Departure from Bharat Space Terminal
The launch site in Sriharikota had transformed dramatically. No longer a distant restricted facility, it was now a vast futuristic spaceport shining with glass domes, magnetic walkways, and smart holograph displays guiding travelers.
Families gathered behind transparent barriers, waving proudly. A choir of young children sang Vande Mataram, its notes floating like prayer.
Our spacecraft, “Pragyan IX”, stood tall—a sleek silver vessel designed with graphene alloys and plasma-thrust engines capable of reaching the Moon in just 34 hours instead of 3 days. The sky glowed as floodlights danced on its metallic skin.
Inside the cabin, seats molded themselves automatically to our posture. AI assistants floated through holographic projection. The countdown began:
“T-minus 10 seconds to Lunar Launch.”
My heart raced.
Engines roared, the ground trembled, and gravity crushed my chest. The pressure felt like mountains pressing down on my bones. And then—
Silence. Weightlessness. Freedom.
Earth drifted away beneath us, a living globe draped in blue and green. Lights from cities sparkled like jewels scattered across velvet.
I whispered,
“Goodbye Earth. I’ll return wiser.”
Through the Space Highway
Space travel in 2035 was no longer a lonely black void. Solar-fusion powered highways—streams of guided plasma particles—formed bright trails across space like glowing rivers. We followed one, surfing through vacuum.
Robotic drones inspected the spacecraft mid-flight. Medical nanobots ensured our blood pressure and oxygen were perfect.
Meals came printed fresh from nutrient synthesizers—warm roti and vegetables instead of dehydrated pouches.
Through the window, stars looked sharper, closer, and full of ancient stories. Each breath tasted like infinity.
Floating weightless, I pressed against the glass and marveled at the silent ocean of space — deep, endless, majestic.
Approaching the Moon
Soon, the Moon appeared—massive, brilliant, overwhelming.
Unlike the distant silver disc seen from Earth, here it seemed powerful and haunting. Its surface glowed with shimmering dust grains reflecting sunlight like crushed diamonds.
The landing zone—Aarohan-1 Lunar Base—appeared as a cluster of domes illuminated softly beneath the dark sky. Solar fields stretched across plains like metallic flowers.
Our craft descended gently, landing on the soft lunar regolith with a barely audible whisper.
First Steps in Low Gravity
Stepping out of the airlock was like crossing from reality into myth.
The ground beneath my boots felt strangely soft, like compact snow that remembered every touch. I took a step—and floated upward, bouncing effortlessly as if dancing in slow motion.
I laughed like a child. Everyone did.
The silence around us was deeper than thought—no wind, no sound, no echo. It felt like standing directly inside the universe’s heartbeat.
Above the horizon, Earthrise began—our glowing home rising slowly, wrapped in blue clouds, suspended in black nothingness. Even the most scientific minds fell silent.
I felt tears forming. One floated away like a pearl.
Discovering the Moon
We explored the Lunar Lava Caves, massive underground tunnels stretching kilometers, once rivers of molten rock. These caves would soon house the first off-Earth city.
We visited the Apollo 11 heritage site, perfectly preserved.
Armstrong’s footprint still rested frozen—time had not dared to touch it.
We planted the flag of United Humanity — not of a nation, but of all Earth.
Robotic rovers worked like tireless ants constructing habitats. A greenhouse dome shimmered with the first plants grown using lunar soil, nurtured by artificial light.
At night, lying inside the transparent observation dome, I stared at a sky overflowing with stars like never seen from Earth.
I felt infinitely small, yet deeply connected to everything.
Returning to Earth
The Moon felt like a temple we had been allowed to enter—silent, sacred, eternal.
Leaving was heartbreak.
As the spacecraft lifted, lunar dust rose like a farewell cloud. The Moon shrank slowly behind us, indifferent yet majestic.
When Earth appeared again—bright, living, full of sound—my heart trembled.
Birds cried, winds whispered, waves roared. Gravity hugged us tightly as if welcoming us home.
Touching the soil with bare hands, I understood what the Moon had taught me:
We wander the universe not to escape Earth,
but to discover how precious Earth truly is.
Message from 2035
Look at the Moon tonight.
See not just a glowing circle,
but a promise of how far human dreams can travel.
And remember—
Our true home is Earth. We must protect it.
Because beyond all stars, there is no planet like ours.
