End of History: A Class-One Student's Perspective

Each time we rethink a memory, we stretch it a bit. The following memories were some realizations that since have been stretched several times:

Realization 1:

At the new school, I rapidly excelled in drawings which were the combinations of basic geometric shapes. First I learned to draw a mountain (Isosceles triangles in a row), a sun (yellow circle), then, a house in the front of the mountain, a man next to house, a car on a line (road) and tree at the end of road and a pond in front of house (just rough blue coloring of the bottom half of the page). Once I mastered this drawing, I thought there was nothing to add to the drawing. For me, it the End of History (Francis Fukuyama's hypothesis that the current system is the best that humanity could achieve. Since I thought, I had mastered the art and there was no further room for improvement, it was my "the end of history").  I didn't miss any chance of expressing my view of "The End of History". I filled pages of my notebooks, blank spaces of my books (Although, it was tolerated but occasionally I get punished for them), drew on walls and streets with charcoal (a bakery was part of our house, so plenty of charcoal) and went to classes during recess in search of chalks and clean blackboards to draw. 

I was very content with my mastery. For first two years of my schooling, I struggled to learn alphabets and numbers (and that my impatient parents were very disappointed with my inability to learn and kept asking for pieces of advice from anyone who had to offer a solution) and in a new school (which was recommended by my father's friend), I learned reading, writing and drawing effortlessly. My father didn't mind it much but my mother didn't appreciate blackened dresses and hands. I kept drawing on everything. My view of the world had stopped with those limited number of objects and I couldn't see any possibility of improving upon it. But that didn't affect my enthusiasm for expressing myself.

THEN,

Realization 2: my youngest maternal uncle visited us after their Iran tour. He was a couple of years older than me and taught me to draw tulips (for the memory of the fallen soldiers), tanks, fighter jets, and helicopters. I had never seen tulips and helicopters before. The only tank and the fighter jet that I had seen were the ones that were parked in the parks of the cantonment area which appeared to me as oversized toys. It was the first time I heard about Iran-Iraq war and that people died in the wars. It dawned on me as I learn to draw new objects, I start seeing the same object anew. There was no "the end of history" moment. It was just a temporary satisfaction with the level of the mastery (So was the case with Fukuyama's hypothesis).

THEN,

Realization 3: I learned from the discussion of adults in the bakery that if Pakistan and India went to another war, India could drop an atomic bomb and we all could die in a blink of an eye (Pakistan was not a nuclear state at the time). I had no idea what an atomic bomb is but the idea everything could vanish in a blink of eyes, terrified me. I received pocket money in the morning and during the day, I kept looking my father and anytime I spotted my father or my grand-maternal-uncle, I taxed them. Each time,  received additional money, I was in heaven. The list of the objects that I could draw was growing and I started reading story booklets. In addition to group plays, these additional pleasures made the world too sweet and I definitely didn't want it to end in blank of eyes. But I couldn't unlearn that cursed knowledge that our world could end.

Probably, humanity survives a nuclear winter but there will be real THE END OF HISTORY for many cultures, societies, ethnicities and countless species of organisms.