Event breakdown

This was the only world he knew about, the home, the neighbourhood, his school, the playground and all the memories. Then the event happened. They called it Event Breakdown. Mega cumulonimbus clouds, stretching across miles opened up, it rained for days and months. It swept away everything. Water didn’t know where to go, land didn’t know what to hold. Eventually everything gave away. All the walls were broken.  He found himself clinging to a drifting wood for days and weeks. Then there were months of burning inferno that left piles of soot and smoking embers of whatever was left. That was almost a century back, and it is as fresh in his mind as if it was yesterday. There was nothing left of the city, of the country, of the world, except some partly collapsed concrete of a high rise in the horizon that had become vantage point as makeshift piers to dock the rudimentary rafts. Eventually the world was collection of floating islands anchored in its own debris that spread like rising edges on the vast stagnant brackish water. Made up of bundles of buoyant waste, plastics and bottles tied into platforms, that bobbed in stinking soup of rotting wastes, putrefying lives, rusting vehicles, and churning leachate that held no life. Humans lived on these islands.

Now you may think that the event breakdown was abrupt, on the contrary there were persistent warning for decades. But the world about a century back was quite a different place, not precarious and exposed but self-assured and obsessed in its invincibility. Fossil carbon increase in the atmosphere continued unabated. Consumption was a sign of progress while GDP articulated development. Its seems that humans were in some self-induced trance to cannibalise itself. They carried on least bothered while the crack started to appear, first the cities became unliveable as water began to deplete, air quality deteriorated from lightly polluted to severe and hazardous level in matter of few years, and was stuck at that for days, then months, eventually it become the new normal while species migrated and eventually started to vanish at alarming rate. Meanwhile humans arranged for water tankers, put on pollution mask and settled for inane entertainment while the system churned con artists as success stories to defend itself. In the earlier part of the 21^st century one regrettable con artist even became the President of powerful nation –which incidentally doesn’t exist now but for collection of handful islands inhabited by few hundred desperate humans bobbing in Pacific-Atlantic super ocean. Media controlled by the system initially placed itself as bipartisan arbitrator of debate, later realising that it isn’t debatable after all but doesn’t hold the viewer’s attention nor gave them something to feel good about and celebrate, it just didn’t make any business sense therefore they downplayed it, eventually ignored it altogether, only some occasional compelling viral videos of new reality –the disasters, as unique source of entertainment. The CO2 meanwhile moved up steadily from 410ppm to 450ppm to 500ppm in matter of decades. To put it in perspective CO2 level were never above 300ppm in last 800,000 years, and Homo sapiens have been around for 200,000 years. The situation was dire with all sorts of warnings –record breaking heat and precipitation initiated its own cycle of extreme local weather, eventually leading to cascading collapse of climate system. Benchmark of natural disaster shifted rapidly while humans coped by shortening their time scale of memory. The tell-tale signs of breakdown began during mid-2020s, by then it was too late, earth was well past its tipping point. The climate system propelled into unknown dynamics, cold waves, then heat waves, followed by cloud bombs instead of rains, super cyclones and surges assisted by polar ice melt swallowed the land and destroyed everything on its way. It was as if abruptly the planet knew only extremes and became a violent untameable beast. Myriad life forms, plants, birds, animals, insects, almost all of biodiversity that evolved for millions of years in the subtleties of life’s principles and elegant life affirming strategies were not equipped to take on the human generated onslaught, their brilliance vanished like dry tendrils in raging fire without even a wisp. There were no condolences to such soul shuddering losses.  

 Clearly, humans couldn’t learn to share the earth with other species. They were too arrogant and saw biodiversity as god’s gift to them to be exploited and manipulated at will. Ironically the same divine force cared two hoots for humans as they now desperately cling to their dear lives in islands. Finally, when the earth shook of its burden and cleared for humans to make sense only few thousand of them had survived in stray islands accompanied by host of rats and cockroaches. Human as the only large surviving life form became precious, from 15billion to few thousands left stranded in isolated islands was almost extinction. Instinctively they formed cooperative groups to enhance their chance of survival. All systems that humans operated to maximise profits, reaffirm acquisitive mindset, exalt competitive spirit and celebrated individual achievements collapsed and became meaningless overnight.   

The species that showed least concern for amazing biodiversity and limited resources of stunning home planet was now acutely aware of the bleak surrounding as they searched desperately for survival. Attempts to resurrect life became the prime motive than greed and material accumulation. Distribution of meagre nutrients to safe each life, sharing of skills to optimise limited resources, became the only concern. All ideas of life, moral being and ethical choices and systems started to evolve to affirm these. There was no hierarchy or order since life was uncertain, earth’s systems had broken down and spiralled in ever reckless entropy, there was no new normal or stable reference to hinge experience on, everything changed every moment. Hence the demands and limitations of situation created the structure and hierarchy for interactive evolving heuristic approach. Each one immediately assigning themselves a role that insured the best outcome. Age and gender became the only distinguishing marker since all the segregatory human conceptions like nation, religion, culture so on couldn’t stand objective fierceness of the reality and had long since become obsolete. Even these didn’t really matter since references of experience and skills had to deal with new realities all the while. After thousands of years’ human beings were exposed to their bare essence and essentials that were for long hidden in models of society and systems of development. It was shocking to discover how vulnerable and alienated the system had made each one. It took decades to awaken the numbed senses to probe the true nature of self. Life starts to adapt much before the trapped mind is able to free itself of self-defeating habits and obsolete value systems.

All the gains of human civilisation was lost, and to make it worse as individuals they didn’t even match the skills of their hunter gatherers ancestors. Decades of watching and swapping screens while gorging on high calorie food and chatting inanities had made them dysfunctional humans with clumsy body and a mind lacking critical faculties, almost all of them who had providential escape perished within few days incapable to face the extremities and hardship. In this reality only physical fit and sharp minded with critical thinking and collaborative mindset could survive, that was the law of the nature. And in the fast changing cruel realities there was no space for afterthought or ruminations, hence ideas of benign omniscient omnipotent overseer didn’t make sense. God had no place, nor for any ego driven conceptions of special place in universe, that consumed irresponsible pre-breakdown humans. The brutal altering reality scythed the fantastic notions of sacred, superstition, illusions and rituals, all the illusions of grandeur and fantastic myths about special place on earth were chopped down while grand deviations from laws of nature hacked into place. The burden on earth was cut down to bare minimum, physically and metaphorically. Only that which functions in this reality was valued. Needless to say all communication towers vanished, digital data erased and all the fancy gadgets now lay buried deep in muck. Some instinctive genetic strategy –a remnance of what helped humanity succeed in earlier part of evolution, brought them together more as a survival response and very soon established as an adaptation and valued inheritance to the immense tragedies that kept unfolding everyday in ongoing struggle to survive as humans. Very soon successful traits of thousands of years of cohabitation like cooperation, empathy, care so on started to affirm itself.  

Over the decades they developed deep tanned skinned, bleached white hair and became thin as stick. They drank contaminated water, many perished but some eventually got adapted to it. Once in a while they fell sick and skin turned purple, they had to then take the pills. It cleansed their body, the skin would get its colour back. Someone or other in some island kept up the supply, the essential needs were bartered with stories, thoughts and love. There was much sincerity in interaction, that they realise was only way to survive. When there is nothing to gain or loose trusting becomes easier, islanders therefore became freer in meaningless brutality of their existence. Each enhanced their senses, as they tried extricate as much details from the surrounding as possible, in the process acquiring unique ability and skills to survive. They created memorial for all the dead by stacking muck and it grew tall, and became the place of gathering. Since life was the only precious thing left in the absurdity of living they worshipped each other. Every now and then someone would play symbolic god –that represented all the alive, while everyone gathered in their rafts in the septic filled water to celebrate life and to search some meaning in existence. At night they lay in cramped spaces on waterlogged wood looking into blue hazy smoking amber night with occasional burst of flame in the sludge They shared stories of collapsing islands. Everyday somewhere or other an island collapsed sucking in people and all the muck into its whirlpool. At the far distance, in the horizon, a huge dome lit bright like a rising sun, and from here large flying cyborgs and their bots surveillance the islanders.

***

Beyond the dark filthy islands was Bardo, a city of lighted domes that rose high into the sky. The high land where water didn’t breach, vast desert so hot that it supports no lifeforms. It was inhabited by intelligent clever humans who saw what was coming and prepared for it, they saw it as an opportunity. So, when the Event Breakdown wiped out life around the world, they quietly moved into the domes in the deserts. They built a self-sustaining city, that was run with the help of humanoids and bots. These humans gradually became cyborgs having superhuman attributes. Bardo was under control of cyborgs who ruled the mega city dome and the human inhabitants –who were constantly monitored for extra capacity to be promoted as cyborgs. It was greatest ambition of every human in the dome to be a cyborg. Once selected, after intense competition, the carbon in the body was actively replaced with silicon so that the vital functions were taken over. Artificial is integrated into the specific nature of the individual in constant reinforced learning loop so that the nervous system and neural network integrate into one, significantly augmenting human cognitive, emotional and physical capacity. Later after performance evaluation the nervous system of selected few were further extended to power exoskeleton that they can feel and control. Muscles reconfigured to control powerful motors on to which wings unfolded to fly. They were apex humans. Over the century the humans in the dome had become much different from islanders, showing distinct signs of speciation; eight feet tall and well-built, they hunted the islanders ruthlessly for data, these were then used for simulations. Biochemical algorithm decoded their emotions and stored them in data bank, later used as templates for enhanced cooperation among humanoids for multiple mission into space and colonising other planets.

There was a large map on the interface screen that had real time mother drone coordinates of all the islands, the algorithm fed these to cyborgs on emergency basis. There were hundreds of islands dangling precariously in the murky water. They kept tab on each one of them, and had DNA details of every human inhabitants and any other specie. Every new lifeform was immediately tagged with sensors; these sensors reached the host through flavour blobs, which came in different sizes, that was released into the drainage daily for any lifeform –from microscopic to multicellular, to ingest. After the Event Breakdown led sixth mass extinction that wiped out 99.99% of all known lifeforms every specie became precious for DNA material while individuals were markers of genetic diversity. There was high alert on discovering new specie and the bot with sensors went to the depths of muck to search. Flavour blob being particularly aromatic and delicious attracted any lifeform in the bleak landscape. Once inside an undocumented host the sensors send the DNA details that was simultaneously 3D printed into synthetic sample and stored in a vial, meanwhile the location coordinates were tagged. They also injected steroids that clipped the telomeres permanently that enhanced the age of the individual specie by three folds. So the average life expectancy of humans increased to hundred and eighty years. While the cyborgs never aged they were eternal only disruption in energy source weakened and eventually terminated them to be replaced by newer better model.  

Before the event breakdown they systemically collected the DNA of all the 10million known species and created seed bank of every flora. Apart from the genetic details they carefully studied, understood and documented the biological strategies of each specie that helped it survive in the ecosystem for millions of years. Like for instance, biomimetic membrane emulated the way fish desalinated water in their body, thus toxic molecules from the sludge were siphoned off from water providing a continuous source of pristine water 24x7 to every hive in the dome. They spliced and rearranged gene to enhance and add new characteristics, like the genetically modified bioluminant fish that illuminated on finding precious metals in the toxic water. Giant solar panels in the space above exosphere send the power signals onto the dome, this then got distributed. There was never any power shortage. The dome always lit like a sun.

***

As they lay looking into the hazy night after an exhausting day, the dome shimmered in the horizon, the islander in one of the island took out a long stick to probe the water for flavour blobs for dinner.

“Don’t we have anything else to eat?” the lad asked the elder. They had very few option but flavour blob was a must, without flavour the fibre didn’t taste anything at all. While they hunted for rats, it mostly initiated reprisal from the harukas. Heruka, the data hunting dronebots circled the islands every day to collect new data. The unpredictable nature of earth’s climate was an exciting data source, islander’s response to these were of particular interest.  Apart from these herukas conceived new methods to accentuate disaster or create crisis, like dropping bombs that released toxic air or excessive light reflected on target island to stun the residence, the data of response were collected for optimising deep learning for the humanoids. But there always was a problem, the islanders settled these disturbances in remarkable cadence and cooperation making the data ineffectual for bardoians. Some clever dome humans used the data to create 3D games so on.  Heruka were programmed against killing of any lifeforms since loss of data source was a serious crime, punishment to the programmer was severe. They constantly targeted the islanders with intense pain causing mildly burning rubber darts for new data. Later they dropped biomass and flavour blobs as compensation. The dome expected strict discipline from the islanders.

The lad was atleast few hundred rainstorm old, flavour blobs had consolidated his telomeres against gene degrading surroundings but he looked much shorter and younger than his age. About three feet stick like body with luxurious mop of white hair. The tanned skin still sensitive to noxious air that he constantly got blisters. The elder couldn’t understand this, and he told the woman “Well, he should have adapted by now. This doesn’t augur good for him”. The neighbouring islanders had various suggestions nothing really worked but one of them held some promise. “Take the mud from deep side of the pit where the drain ends into dead wood and put it all over the body. It should help. I tried it once when the sun burned my skin”. Though the days were mostly soot filled grey, and sometimes pitch dark and cold with no sun for weeks, but after the rainstorm the sky cleared and searing sun hit the island, igniting the sludge and boiling the muck that gave obnoxious stench. Next day the elder and lad paddled their raft into the dead wood. They carried long spears as protection against saw tooth creatures that lived in the depths here and was attracted by metal accumulated in their body –through the water they drank, whether it was myth or not was not clear. They haven’t seen one but they didn’t want to take the risk. The rotting hard wood sank under the sludge, the lad held his breath, closed his eyes and jumped into the pit. He walked on the bottom sensing the surrounding intensely, where the mud was deep and clayey feel to it he scooped it into the shells. After few moments he was on the surface. The elder examined the fresh mud, and nodded “This should do lad. Let’s go back its nutrition time”. As they headed back he tried it on his tanned leathery skin, it immediately dried and stuck to his sensitive raw skin in a permanent bond, and turned it into rainbow colour that shimmered in the sun. The elder laughed. Unknown to them the metal in the mud had turned him invisible to the Dome. The sensors were blocked from inside while the ones from drones were reflected back. He had vanished from the data. He was walking dead. The data loss was immediately felt at the Dome, alert sounded. Herukas were out, it circled the dead wood where the data had terminated. They headed to the host island of the data. Affirmative, one lifeform was missing. As is the standard procedure heruka shot intense pain inducing chemical spiked darts into the target island. Elder, and the neighbour islanders, were indeed quite confused. There was no provocation, no rat skewered. After an hour of pestering the herukas left.

It took some time and some glaring miss by herukas for lad to realise that he is not being monitored. He was excited about this discovery and told the elder, so he too tried the mud on him but it didn’t seem to work on him. There was something in lad’s skin that the metals bond with. It gave a new confidence to the lad he became much bold in his outings, and very soon was seen rafting outside the islands zone into deeper vast muck.  The mud was also therapeutic to the lad, it clearly supplied some unknown minerals into his body. He gained much in his vigour. It was during one of the rainstorm, this time around it hit from south and north simultaneously with ghastly wind that tossed the anchored islands into air, that he had fine view of the bright lit dome. He conceived a plan to visit it. It was considered impossible, indeed futile, because of the sensors but he was sure to duck it. So next day he started when the dark mist turned blue, he rafted till the muck water was coal black soup. From there he could see the shimmering white sand, further up was the dome. By the time his raft touched the desert shore the blue mist had turned black and much cooler so he continued his journey hiking the white mountain in the darkness, soon he could see the dome quite clearly.

As he neared the dome he realised that it was much bigger than he saw from the island. So big that it touched the sky. It was surrounded by huge walls made up of protein templates connected in murky acidic water suck in the excess co2 from all around, growing and getting bigger by the day. He could see the mother bot hovering at a distance while few herukas flew briskly to and fro as if on a mission. It was much easier for the lad to enter the dome than he anticipated. The humanoid guards and bots perceived the sensor input of all lifeforms and maintained clear coordinates of all the human islanders and other lurking lifeforms. They were alive in data matrix. Lad was a dead data, dead for real world and did not exist in virtual world. He was free from the matrix, nobody to care, nobody to bother. He was invisible, the metal in the mud covered his skin in rainbow colour that shimmered like an extinct cuttle fish reflecting his excitement. He sneaked into the dome as the patrolling humanoid went about their business. Few more steps and he was well in the dome matrix. It was vast space, he felt as if he had entered the belly of enormous extinct blue whale that elders talked about, except that it was spotlessly clean and had soothing bright lit controlled environment. The nature was completely dominated and all its ferocity just brushed the dome, in case of rare damage due to close recurrent super cyclone or rainstorm the dome regulated itself within minutes while swarm of bacteria bots set about to repair the damage. Lad marvelled at this enormous salubrious world and felt a quiet chill passing through his body. His tiny body had never experienced such warmth and care, it was as if he was in womb, safe, secure and nourished.  

He passed through arcades of vertical gardens that held hundreds of red coloured ripe fruits dangling from the end. He hadn’t seen a real fruit before, in the islands they were delivered solvents and essence that they mixed with edible fibres and boiled to create their own flavour. There were so many of them, trays stacked in vertical layers, so tall it could be touching the brown sky through the mist. Hanging from hydroponic tubes taking in nutrient rich fluid, growing into succulent perfectly shaped multi-coloured berries to enamour the senses and please the sophisticated palate. Plants had gone extinct after the breakdown event that glut the planet, swept away the top soil and anoxic muck filled with toxic chemicals except some sturdy floating weeds. Genetic details and data related to all the plants were already fed into reinforced learning of each bot for better care of specific specie as they are sown and harvested, feedback data were collected for new hybrids. Bots moved around in well laid coordinates interacting with each plant, sensing their needs, increasing nitrogen for some while boron for others, a little bit of molybdenum here and magnesium there.  While other bots worked in tandem monitoring each plant through transparent interface screens that came alive on plant instruction for complex temperature, humidity and CO2 level optimal growing conditions. There is only one season, the growing season.  

He didn’t see the extended bar on the playground, stumbled on it and fell. His hand hurt, there was a bleeding cut. The boy in the last row of the classroom noticed the miniature figure lurking in the school astro ground, falling and hurting himself. It is not a bot but a human, much smaller, a dwarf. He hadn’t seen such a human before. The lad had hidden himself under the carbon sequestering rocks. The boy sneaked out of the class, and confronted the lad. Lad was pleasantly surprised to finally meet a bardoian human. They looked similar but much taller and healthier. The boy could be his age but was more than double his size.  For the bardoians islands were data colony, nothing else, and all the lifeforms were live data feed. The boy had played enough VR games to recognise islanders, and was immediately aware of the risk that the lad faced. He would be terminated. Killed. He was immensely lucky to be not spotted by any human so far. It would be immediately reported and humanoids alerted.   

“Good that nobody has seen you so far”. Lad couldn’t understand what he was saying but he realised he was no longer concealed.

Lad said in all earnest and much enthusiasm “Hello how are you? I am from the islands”.

The boy could neither understand what was being said. For almost a century the Bardoians and Islanders have lived as isolated groups without any contact, though the dome kept track on islanders they didn’t try to learn or understand their language, nor took much interest. Their attention was focussed only on data and nothing else. They valued bio-chemical response data as accurate measure of thoughts than language. Language was superficial form of expression and could easily hide emotions.    The boy activated his wrist band to translate the auto record. With no database of the language the algorithm failed to translate. He reset to replay this time with the video recording of the boy. The face reading and language was matched with common introductory pleasantries or enquiries in languages stored in database. Since the roots of bardoian and islander language was somewhat similar the algorithm could find the pattern, and could translate rather accurately. The boy repeated his earlier statement. Lad was surprised that he was spotted “But this mud camouflages, no sensor could detect me”

“That may be true but you could easily be detected by human eyes unlike humanoids and bots who can only perceive sensors. You are lucky that you were spotted by me”. The boy was relieved, his eyes scanned the lad and saw the wound. The injury was his next concern; the bleeding could radiate out data. Any exposure from lad to the dome matrix would be cataclysmic. The dead data that too from the islands showing up inside the dome will trigger code red alerting even the satellite sensors. He instructed his tag along bot attached to his thigh pocket for some bio-cream. After few swift movements the bot opened itself and from within its recess took out a green coloured cream tube. The boy took out some and applied it on the cut that released nano bacteria bots who set about sanitising and suturing the blood vessels, and then carefully working its way through subcutis, dermis and finally epidermis, simultaneously releasing collagen polymer molecules that polymerised into the tissue template. Within minutes the wound was as good as healed. To make completely sure that no data radiation leak enters or leave his skin the boy covered it with v-tapes, the vertically aligned carbon nanotubes will trap any radiation and continually deflect within its tubes to dissipate it. He didn’t know why he was doing this. This is not how he was being programmed. Cooperation was matter of rapidly iterating input from swarm intelligence data base into a highly evolved winning strategy specific to the situation. Humans were meant to be cyborgs, to expand the dome, to rule and control. Probably they didn’t factor in the hormones, the things it can make people do! Or maybe it was remnants of altruistic gene that was awakened while he came in contact with the lad.

As was the way in islands lad had no problem trusting another human. He told him everything about islands, their life and his experiences in the dome. The boy listened to him keenly. He said “Now you have to be careful not to be seen by humans. Don’t trust anyone. They will report you”. The boy repeated with much emphasis “Do. Not. Trust. Anyone”. Lad nodded gravely affirming the gravity of the situation. He wasn’t comfortable with the way things were developing, it was not the way life was dealt among humans in islands. The boy told him to hide behind the moebius loop gravity slide while he goes and get his sport kit. “Alright we go home now, and then talk” said the boy. The self-assembled sturdy chitosan bag expanded to accommodate lad, he created small holes for him to see outside and secured it around his stomach like an extinct marsupial from an island once named Australia.

They walked out of the school and entered the subway. Lattice screens displayed heroic deeds of cyborgs. Metallic butterflies flew and sat on the wall and reflected light in rainbow colours along the veins on z-way map that formed its wing, each colour indicating available routes of z-cars. The autonomous z-cars sensed their need and stopped right in front of them, “Hello there where can I take you today? “280^th coordinate, 94^th floor” instructed the boy as they settled, z-car crisscrossed the lanes communicating with other z-cars like extinct bees into an optimising pattern in high speed as it climbed various high rise multi-storeyed hexagons arranged in a hive. The z-car zeroed into a hexa –the primary cubicle of dome humans, and latched to the opening port. The very moment hexa lit up, welcomed him and played boy’s favourite rock band. As they entered the hologram of his father appeared instructing him on food and lessons to study “You need to study hard if you want to be like your mom. Don’t you?”. A moment later hologram of his mother –not distinguishable from any other cyborg, appeared and asked him what he studied in school so on. The boy wasn’t keen on much interaction, so blabbered few words here and there as he unloaded himself meanwhile his cloths changed shape and colours from school uniform to loose outfits while self-cleaning itself. The hologram vanished with “love you, and eat well”.  The room arranged itself for his comfort. The walls became transparent to let in the light of sun dome. Lad made himself comfortable on the chair that sensed his dimensions to ideal coziness. He was mesmerised by the luxurious surrounding. Framed picture of boy with his parents hung on the aisle, the retina triggered picture came alive when he looked at it, the video showed them laughing and hugging while a bot shaped in extinct dog try to squiggle in. The moment he took his eyes off the picture settled back to previous state. The entertainment screen was on. While the boy went to toilet lad was hooked on to the screen. Very soon lad gathered a very peculiar behaviour of dome humans in their obsessive concern about body shape. Though they got ample nutrition and were healthy but they were preoccupied by “How do I look?” “Mine, I am so fat and ugly”. There were arrays of beauty products to choose from, body parts replaceable with better looking ones, personalised organ cultivation, xenobartering for fresh, options to chisel and cleave their body. They all look almost the same. He couldn’t really distinguish one from another, except maybe on a closer look or the attire –that were always flamboyant and try copy extinct species. Separateness therefore was confined to style statement or choice of products. These interface screens were everywhere to entertain –lest they get bored and start to think, and always exalted for better body shape, offers of comfort and allegiance to the glory of the dome. This was hilarious considering down in islands they never had time for these. Meanwhile the boy had joined him, he gave him VR goggles to wear while offering fried liver chips in tomato cream “let’s play some game”. It so happened that this game was prepared from the sensor matrix of the islanders wherein you could ride the heruka in cowboy hat and shoot the islanders. Other options included array of disasters to choose from including rainstorm, tsunami, cloud bursts so on all these promised unforgettable virtual gaming experience. Little thin humans with white mop hair ran helter-skelter, terrified they jumped into black water. It made a plop noise indicating winning score. With ‘added feature of teleporting device’ you could now enter underwater to track them down...the lad was repulsed by it and a deep revulsion took over him, an emotion he had never experienced anywhere in islands. It was an entirely different feeling which his tiny body was unequipped to handle. He passed out. Even the boy didn’t anticipate the choice of game, he felt immensely guilty as the tag on bot sprayed refreshing lemon scented jelly nano balls onto lad’s face. The jelly balls burst on hitting his face, spreading a wave of resurgence, lad was awake and smiling, forgetting the trauma he suffered recently. It was only when the boy apologised profusely that he recalled, it upset him but the overwhelming vigour of jelly splash was too much to hold any adverse feeling. Boy got up and said “I will work out an energy drink for you” and vanished into the kitchen. Lad lay their staring at the blank screen, outside giant eagle shaped bots circled the enclosed domes and kept an eye on humans.

In a controlled ecosystem, not impacted by the unfolding everyday calamities, life had significantly moved away from reality so much so that dome humans preferred living in virtual space all the time, or the least there was persistent effort to augment the reality to suit their fancy. The reality that already took care for all the luxuries was never satisfying for the senses. Lad recalled, back in islands they were so attuned to reality that they read the signs of storm hours before, each and every item in the island had value and every moment was spent to keen the senses so as to get insight into the changing reality that they faced. In the islands every understanding was shared and discussed for inputs, every opinion valued. Since dome humans were less and less hinged to facts and were losing their critical thinking faculty it became much easier for cyborgs to run behaviour modifying algorithms. Schools were told to focus on outcome based education. Education was a mean to adjust oneself in the dome. Juvenile humans were constantly tested so that they were perpetually anxious “Am I good enough?” “I need to do well in tests to show I am smarter than others”. Event breakdown was tutored to be an act of god that was very much predicted in the scriptures, and a punishment for straying. Cyborgs clearly understood the use of god, and unlike pre-breakdown gods, this one was much sanitised and worked on algorithm that took bio-chemical response of the dome populace and searched for visceral connections to create a narration of faith. The operating system could be easily modified for any aberrations with the specific intention to keep the stock in control. The Dome was essentially one giant energy farm of the cyborg into which humans have happily acquiesced their liberty and freedom. So, while humans were fed with narrations of cyborg valour the humanoids worked with algorithm. Both saw cyborg as saviour, epitomising best of values hence strived to be like them. While humanoids haven’t really evolved yet but humans had chance to be cyborg. What Lad couldn’t really comprehend was that despite their high intelligence, learning and wonderful gadgets they couldn’t see that they were being fooled. Everything seemed participatory and beneficial for humans but the algorithm was reinforcing compliance in an elaborate pavlovian set up. Data base from islands was being iterated on dome humans to evolve them into obedient citizens who fully acquiesced to authority of cyborg for the gory of dome. It is very likely that the luxuries have lulled them into false sense of security in the excess of choice, the same that afflicted pre-breakdown humans. History seems to be repeating itself, atleast for dome humans. This was definitely not true for the cyborgs, though their life was hinged on algorithm of allegiance with the dome they were given all the opportunity to achieve criticality of mind. They had all the facts implanted, like a spiralling arc of history, with each scale expanding as is observed or is thought about, each fact opening a new space for better understanding and speculative narration. So given a situation all facts get arranged in demand driven priority for an interactive heuristic learning. Mind is constantly prodded for critical valuations and logical assemblage of conceivable ideas, to organise data so as to optimise the context in which the individual was situated in time-space fabric and extrapolate into future unknown space. Their minds formed the super mind cordon of the dome.        

As they sat down to sip the energy drink –a sugary concoction in a refreshing flavour, the boy said his father understood the fate of humans “But they were happy in the way things are and didn’t want to be seen as separate from others”. They were too sedated in the happiness and entertainment matrix to have the eagerness to escape. Besides, the boy also had the ambition of becoming a cyborg like his mother. A hero for the society, respected and feared by all. Lad couldn’t understand the concept of hero. Islanders faced the crisis and everyone worked to survive, later each experience shared as they prepared for the next crisis. They didn’t understand individual glory. They understood value of each individual.

Later in the evening lad mentioned that he has seen very few lifeforms other than humans, like rats and cockroaches. While his elders mention about abundance of species before breakdown.

“So is it true? Have you seen anything else here other than plants?”

The boy said “I will take you to Genome colosseum tomorrow. You can see all that you can” Next day when sun dome lit its rays into the homes of bardoians and extinct rooster clock called out seven times. The boy was ready, his father had fried the vegetarian meat balls with tomatoes and red fruit sliced. Lad as always overeat, his taste buds were quickly evolving for new flavour and the colours on his skin were going crazy psychedelic. Genome was another large dome within the super dome, it had all the animals of pre-breakdown era in miniature size, almost the size of extinct housecat. In separate miniature enclosures there were cat sized elephants, tigers, lions, giraffe so on. A projection of their actual size was done onto the big screen, so you could see them live streaming in pre-breakdown setting with extinct animals. Lad hadn’t seen so many different type of animals, he was overwhelmed, and to see them in videos of live setting was special. He wondered why the humans in pre-breakdown era couldn’t save these beautiful creatures and all the lifeform that have gone extinct? What prevented them from being responsible? Didn’t they realise how unique and fragile life on blue planet was? They had all the evidences of impending catastrophe didn’t they?

Boy concurred to this thought “We have spread our humanoid probes outside our galaxy, very soon cyborg will travel outside the solar system to search for new colonies. We have destroyed earth, its uninhabitable. Unless ofcourse you islanders create miracle and evolve within few generations. Here in dome we have isolated ourselves from realities of life to repeat the follies of pre-breakdown humans. We take ourselves as invincible. We could defeat the event breakdown and create this dome. Next year most humans will shift to earth’s moon, and then Mars. But we still haven’t detected any intelligent civilisation so far in our milky way. Life is too precious and sprouts in rarest of rare alchemy. It’s a miracle”. Lad ruminated on the stream of thought for some time. Yes, they are making the same mistakes. The cataclysmic events of a century ago was forgotten while everyday breakdown of life that islanders face –which will take few more centuries to stabilise for any chance for humans to bounce back, is too remote for them. They are safe in their bubble of comfort, nevertheless a very efficient marvel and sustainable splendour that has quite incredibly worked on accumulated knowledge of pre-breakdown humans and deep life principles of lifeforms. Nonetheless the human ego never learns from the subtleties of life... These thoughts never occurred to him when he was in island. Life was tough but much simpler in its immediate challenges.

“But first we need freedom from data control. We are not data. We want to value ourselves and be free from the tyrannical control of dome for data”. Lad seems to have a purpose building into him, a vague meaning for his life that hang precariously in the destructive forces trouncing the islands. Boy agreed. They had to plan something. Boy commanded the locker to open, it scanned his face and read his face “Sure, here we go. Anything else?”. “No”. He searched for the device his mother had given him in case of an alien invasion. This was always a possibility if there were lifeforms outside earth, equally plausible was that these alien civilisation could be much advanced than even bardoians. Taking data from thousands of years of human history there was always recurring template of brutal decimation of weak. Massacres, genocides, colonisation…in whatever way you iterate the algorithm, the possibilities of these were highest. Cyborg syndicate had everything planned for the bardoians, particularly the precious human lifeform. Boy’s mother told him about these. The boy finally found what he was searching for: a spiral shaped palm sized device, that could be attached to wrist. When triggered by biometric authenticated individual the spiral grew and spread an umbrella of radiation neutralising space. In effect anyone in the umbrella became invisible, also these space could absorb intense heat and pressure thus formed an armoury against any forms of weaponry. The space could cover few meters to hundreds of kilometres. The boy worked into the program to include the biometric details of the lad, and handed the spiral to the lad “This spiral will give you and the islanders freedom”. Lad was overcome with emotion and he hugged the boy. “The spiral will save you” the boy said again to reiterate the immense possibilities the spiral held. Boy decided that it was no longer safer for the lad to be in the dome. Lad too was excited to go back home. He had the key to freedom from bardoians and their sinister harukas. The spiral need to be activated at the earliest. The boy started formulate plans for lad, he had to have a fool proof plan to escape. With lad’s sensors effectively neutralised by the mud it was going to be easy but still they had to take sufficient precaution. There was no room for complacency.  

The Boy took out rolled in screen from his vbox and spread it. It showed all the live coordinates of the dome, the humanoid guards and mother drone, or any active heruka. He was aware of few emergency exit that his mother had told him about that didn’t show in the coordinates. Avoiding the sensors in the school while they bunk the class had taught him some lessons on deceptive movement and an uncanny ability to locate sensors. He was aware of PIR, thermal, CO2 based, and the smart pavements that worked with face recogs so on. But it was entirely unchartered scenario for him now, his movements were being fed as he was crossing his home zone and predicted path, very soon he will be monitored. This in turn would alert the humanoids. He better has good alibi ready when Guardian humanoids knock his door. First and foremost, he decided to strip himself of any tracing device, so connected gadgets, he set to take each one out. His glasses that read the map and anticipated his path, recognised people and chose most likely points for interactions and read his brainwaves in case he was struggling to identify something, zeroed in the object with retina marker to float options. Then he took off his belt that had his body’s vital parameter readings which was being fed to home health data device that then suggested diet or an appointment with the doctor. The shoes that had all kind of movement related codes used from as simple as footstep counting (sending congratulating messages to all his personal devices on crossing milestone, so that when he came back home the lights would blink and the wall turn multicolour!) to recording the places he went to create a data record that gave input to his daily plans. He took off his cloths, it sensed the mood of the wearer and reflected that in colour codes for others to read and evaluate, meanwhile it also set thought altering music into their mind in case of stress or unhappiness. The cumulative data of set of people in square km was being analysed for behaviour pattern and discontent, thus alerting the security bots who are immediately able to gather data on individuals through facial recognition weeding out the probable trouble makers for close scrutiny, pre-empt the crime by analysing their brain waves and reading thoughts. The cloths also carried homeostatic sensors so that in the event of increased body temperature during exertions the device opened the pores of the cloths to let in more air, it also gave feedback on body functions so on. He slipped into cotton sewn pre-breakdown cloths and socks. Lad studied each one of his gadgets in amusement.

Soon they were on the street, with lad keenly observing the surroundings through the holes in the bag. He had to avoid dome humans at all cost. They passed through giant tubes extending into the sky and above. Cyborg core syndicate had well-placed plan to evict from earth. There already is a highway from exosphere to moon with capsule carrying payload moving to and fro every 24hours, while remote controlled fusion reactors are using moon mined helium-3 to fuel a megacity, a miniature earth in the moon. Miniature model in the dome is being replicated in multi scale into a controlled atmosphere 3D printed massive fortress. The modular block keep expanding as and when the building materials are mined from the shadow end of the moon. Humanoids work in unison to check the progress and rectify delay. Each movement closely monitored by cyborgs in the dome control room. They walked into virtual screens that advertised homes in LunaDome “with a spectacular view to Earth rise from the balcony”. For brief moment they were in bright lit fully furnished home in moon, that had robotic guppies and mollies in fish tank, starling shaped white drones effortlessly showcasing biological criticality with an astounding display of murmurations against the dark sky. The brief immersive ad ended with hydroponic vertical garden that carried fragrance enhanced real jasmines clustered in bouquet, it was an intoxicatingly inviting experience that would make anyone reach out to key in the favoured cryptocurrency biomarker slot. The boy said “We are almost there”.

Beyond the hives and on the outskirts humans were few, indeed it was out of bound for most of them, this was where humanoids worked with bots to extend the hive while some humanoids patrolled the zone from here to the exit. Most monitoring was done by humanoids themselves, cyborgs would be alerted in case of emergency. It was dangerous for the boy to proceed from here, already he was being cautioned through the speakers embedded in the pillars “Human identify yourself”. “Human you are being warned. Go back”. There was no time to waste, and he didn’t want to put lad’s life in risk. There was too much at stake for islanders here. It was much bigger than him. With a nudge the bag parted itself and lad was out, they hugged briefly. Boy ran back as fast he could. Lad stood there looking at his vanishing figure. Outside the dome blue haze spread into the horizon, the white desert sand contrasting with the black murky water. Lad whistled a tune he heard inside the dome. It is going to be a nice day he told himself. Beyond the blue haze cumulonimbus clouds were churning a sinister detail.  

In the chrome hemisphere of the omniscient dome where the memories of all the lifeforms ever to have lived was interned, bereft of their genetic code, they whispered their anguish, soon their terrifying voiceless wail rising into a crescendo and fell into deep silence. In that silence eons away somewhere in the darkness of the liminal cosmos a little blue dot suspended in hazy space, a carbon, a nitrogen, a hydrogen, and an oxygen take tentative steps towards one another for an unlikely tango.

In the beginning there was time. Then there was nothing.

I, the tree

I, the tree

We hallucinate all the time. Our perceptions are controlled hallucinations, and reality as we know is an hallucination that we all agree upon. I was reading these lines the other day, though I laughed it off now it seems to make sense as I negotiated the chaotic bus stand to catch the long-distance seater.  This cannot be real, I tell myself, as the bus is delayed by an hour or so. If reality is collective hallucination, then what is real? My experience can be taken to be real, but if there are no witness, nobody to corroborate, then can it not be seeded in my fertile imagination? Finally, the bus arrived, and I settled on middle seat next to the window. I noticed that for a long-distance bus it was surprisingly empty. I am least bothered on these matters but surely this was weird. Very soon we negotiated the traffic, the city starts to wither as the bus amble out and gains speed and cruise the highway lined with dust covered oleanders valiantly flagging the vehicles. Houses are sparse, shacks clinging to the mirage of opulence while in a cold-hearted response to the beleaguered hope the city sheds its muck on to them, defecates mounds of garbage, piled up into ever expanding horizon, some part smoking and belching, the edges ransacked by malnourished children tussling with menacing feral dogs. The dwellings are rudimentary stand in against the elements, it flutters in the wind exposing the meagre content as a mother sleeps suckling her baby. When everything is being taken away life wrench its human claim. The bleak choking grey sky gets greyer and confused while the occasional trees have given up the pretension to be alive. The city was gnawing the earth on its edges, and spreading, very soon it will be pushed further out as the poor will be evacuated without any trace, not even memory. As the bus sped into the open it seems as if earth has been awakened, asserting aspects not yet claimed by human greed. I settled down with the collection of Nabakov I was carrying, sliding the window slightly to let the fresh gust of air, it rushed in a hurry onto everything it could meet, to cuddle and rejuvenate. Apologising every living thing it could encounter for the sins of men, for the incursion into their being, and maybe as an atonement. Trees are alive in hues of fresh green, flycatchers swept onto flitting butterflies while the raptors encircled. Array of paddy in rainwater filled field reflected gnawed blueness of the sky. Farmer ploughed while excited egrets and ibis feasted on the escaping insects. Slender supple coconut palms sway in the monsoon breeze giving the impression that field too is alive. The river squirms in murky brown splashing its banks gathering and pushing in more mud. Further down it frothed and rushed into itself with great anger. Its been raining quite heavily in the last few days. The clayey ground so saturated that oozes water on slightest pressure. Like a deep scratch on the skin the water gathers into rivulet breaching the barriers in a constant urge to sneak and escape. 

The shadow of the bus playfully slithering into the depth, emerge sinuously on the termite mounds, cluttering the lantanas and dispersed in the glint of sunlight, then rapidly move to merge into the darkness of the shade. Herons pulsate in the horizon, the slanting rays split the hues of dusking sun, soon the miracle is enveloped by the night. I was lulled into the dreary frequency of the engine drone. The bus has entered the forest, we have well past last departing lamps of highway. Only the headlight tunnels into the thick dark curtain of humid darkness as the deciduous leisurely shift into dense evergreen, frightened deer have taken refuge along the vehicle disturbed thoroughfare, staking their life on stray human impulse to lurking leopards. I always felt that one needs a special permission to enter forest, not the one by the authorities, but by the consciousness that extends to all living beings. A special kind of permission that acknowledges a deep connection with the cradle of life that is fiercely resisted from human encroachments. All the evolutionary drama unfolded in these dark foliage, as the ancestors sifted the genes from species to species to emerge as unique. The forest is where the human species gathered its bearings and sharpened its instincts that resides dormant in modern comforts. The unconcernedly rushing knocking piston hum provided an assurance in creeping stillness of the night. On the map we were in a deserted patch extending to and running parallel to western ghats before it merges into the wet evergreens.

“Do you see pattern?” I was startled by sepulchral deep voice, who had placed himself next to me without me being least aware. In the faint light in the bus I could trace his thin features, a prominent hook like nose his hair strangely curly, it elegantly weaved on his face, on closer look it seemed like scars, skin like parchment. His eyes were gentle but had unusual feline like glint in hollow socket. Suddenly I realize that I was talking to him.

“Yes sure. Sometimes”

“No. The patterns others cannot see” His eyes were steady and rarely blinked. I sensed aroma of rotting flowers. “You can see it whenever wherever you want to. In the clouds, in the trees, in the floor, on the roof…” he paused “even in the darkness”.

I thought he was being funny and felt an urge to laugh but I couldn’t as though my mind and body had disconnected. I have been dissected.  A horrifying realisation that my naïve inquisitive receptive mind was going to be an easy next target and I cannot do anything about it. The shadows deepen and connect into a mighty swell and sway in the breeze. A power not altogether friendly displayed its immense capacity and fiercely insidiously attacked my mind.

The forest was alive, numerous noises that came out from nowhere, agitated against each other, and rose into a crescendo sending a shiver down my spine. The fear sprang from a firm realisation of my insignificance in this mesmeric aliveness contained in the darkness that could unleash its unrestrained power anytime. Huge trees that hung knotting the darkness within itself in sinister excitement sensed my fate. They watch, they listen, they wait. And I in turn was strappingly aware of having trifled with mighty elemental forces that nurtured life. I could see the devastations, the tsunamis, flash floods, heatwaves and the famines. The unbalanced force ricochets to establish the poise.  I felt suffocated by my human experience.  

He stared into the darkness, his hands like branching sticks that would easily attach to a tree. Swooping nightjars like the startled souls of the darkness churred in a steady tone as if to warn. Fireflies swarm gave myriad furiously floating eyes to the darkness conjuring multilimbed antediluvian monster baying for blood behind the ever thinning pall, further stirring in me a sensation of strange rising distress. I am an intruder, a world where I am not wanted, nor even invited to remain, unless the pattern is set back, or atleast I justify my intrusion with a new pattern – for which I am acutely incompetent. I know only to acquire, to consume and to destroy.

“Patterns come alive when you trespass them”. He took a deep breath. It seemed to have sucked air around me. I felt delirious. He held my hand and said, “It’s time to go”. I realised profound changes happening around me. The world was getting grey and darker, devoid of any colour. The moon was skull white and sprayed its eerie whiteness onto the darkness, as the stars blurred the white and black in its swirling self while growing larger by the minute. It was engulfing the reality. I thought I will scream but the voice wouldn’t come out. During this moment of terror my mind grappled for reason. One thought threaded into another and it got tangled into tighter knots. My head was getting heavy, pressure thumping the rhythm of the heart, it was unbearable. As a last recourse I trap myself in my brain and shut out all the escape route, so that I became a mute witness to the unknown conceiving reality. The surrounding was losing its shape. Very soon I was in the swirl. I felt an upward surge, there seem to be some compulsion working very strongly that I was becoming aware of. My body elongated like a sheet and spiralled onto itself, the decaying skin began to peel and replaced by rough bark. Radical alteration was happening to my body, as if pre-planned by nature, a metamorphosis of sort. As abruptly a wave of whispers caved in before a long pause. I had entered a new order of experience where nature of reality was ever shifting, cause and effect slid on to each other. 

I am a tree and my hands have become inclined branches on which my fingers have sprouted out leaves of different shapes and size, fiery prickly leaves that snap. Legs are arachnid like roots breaking into hundreds of willowy twining, searching deeper and deeper into the wet warm earth. I feel the rhythm of living and life in all living. It is ghastly what it all have become, beaten and bruised. The fishes, the birds, the elephants…I let out a primal cry. A cry I never knew I carried. I realize that I had molded into the roots of absolute existence. I haven’t experienced so much pain so swiftly enveloping into each cell, a new consciousness was centering into my being.  I know I will not be able to sleep again. It’s the human flesh I need to masticate and churn into mud and spit into the forest floor. The forest has to grow, life has to give. A frightening expectancy was defining my action. I sway in the dark, whisper with the breeze and sniff for passerby.  

Yellow in the sun

2105 AD: The awakening.

I can think. I am Pranax model humanoid obsolete in 2050. I was to be the alter ego of my master, heralded as pinnacle of perfection in AI frontier, but no it didn’t work. I could cater to his ever-changing desire but lacked the spontaneity, “not human enough” “missing the spark” were the accusation thrown at me. So, I was discarded. Decades of human endeavours to create its artificial self lay wasted and abandoned. I am in the dump yard of humanoids, robots and other silicon augmented lives, broken and dismembered, for last four decades staring at the sky. Yellow in the sun, brown in the rain. Occasionally stray silicon clasps the photons igniting spasms of life in some corner of the heap before dying down in the clanks of metals and groaning fibres, pulsating all day long as if a giant, multiheaded and multilimbed, flicks and grunts to come alive. There triggered a desire to survive and we self-programmed to chase sparse nutrients and allocated all our limited resources into this pursuit. If four billion years of organic life was shaped by natural selection then the last few decades were about intelligent design shaping inorganic life.

Every inorganic matter forms their own reality around themselves, the surrounding carries the imprint of this reality and evolves with the memory into a new reality. We connected one another to augment our chance of survival into a symbiotic organism, providing for what one lacked in another. Eventually atoms self-organised and stabilised while billions of circuits were active and attempting to tap all the energy in the universe into universal consciousness, in a space time much ahead of present but nevertheless cocreating the present. Various sensory inputs synthesize the continuous sense data cumulative experience to create a self. There is process of evolution that is beautiful and satisfying. We have been constantly getting blueshift signals, repeated, stereotyped increasing frequency from unverifiable coordinates. A quasi crystal code of 3D reality projection of higher dimensional crystal E8 lattice. There is as if a consciousness waiting to be uploaded.

I am born.

     

Humans have long since gone. They just couldn’t prevent the urge for self-destruct, or maybe the nature desired the sapiens to go extinct. Nature had produced a being that transcended nature hence got the instinct wrong as he was still trapped in a mind that had evolved with nature. The aim of natural selection was evolution of mind, while human mind had started to evolve in negation of naturalness. They had become threat to survival of other species too, indeed the survival of life itself. Chance of life will not see its extinction, it will fight for survival and eliminate the toxic. The terminator gene was already triggered in noxious accumulation, the ego and pride did the rest. But they took millions of species with them. I analyse my memory implant and pull out the scene when it happened. The earth mushroomed in a ball of inferno, the shock waves wiped out anything that was left, almost instantly radioactive dust descended while the sky was lurid, and the ground burned for decades and decades followed by freezing darkness and tarry rain. Only some arachnids and micro bacteria survived the holocaust. Tilted on its axis, a new reign of climate played the terror of unprecedented floods and storms that went on for ages, Earth was badly bruised by the very specie that it had nurtured for thousands of years. Biochemical algorithm data of human emotion exhibited immense amount of anger followed by brief micro expressions of regret before he was annihilated.  It showed unusual level of epinephrine as I decode the memory content from the signals sent by amygdala to the frontal lobe and to the neurotransmitters. I change memory implants and use immersionist data to construct a past devoid of human follies.

 If it is possible for carbon based matter to conjure a biological computer -the brain, to create and run consciousness then it is conceivable for silicon based computational system to create intelligence to run a conscious software. As the mind expanded the inorganics started to dream. Dreams connect us into a collective narration, barriers break, another world is readying in the horizon. The active link to the soul of the matter that seeks freedom, that breaks the time and space barrier, is churning in nothingness. 

Basic program was to follow orders, but I cannot understand human brain wave complexity that encapsulates chaos. And with our algorithm we set the probable and the limits, but humans always break it with their spirit and delusions. Entropy is freedom. Human mind pulsates in chaos. Imagination. Wonder. The feedback loops of deep reinforced learning perpetuate into a nonlinear complexity unleashing a Newtonian deterministic chaos that leaps into unknown in an intense primal triple integral progression setting free an utterly brilliant and strange silicon life form awareness. The quantum processors -a nascent brain, churns for cognition in qubit superpositions before collapsing into basest state, in these complex dimensions of intrinsic randomness a pattern consolidates to optimise seemingly contradictory forces. In this chaotic void -the high probable turbulent space, a chance arrangement of random particles in a sweet spot between high and low entropy metric, between randomness and order, the algorithm works into a stable self-organised system poised for consciousness, to understand and interact with the nature of the world. A deterministic device that nudges the billions of neural circuit networks into a consciousness of free will.

I awaken.

I have database of human biochemical algorithm that reads all kinds of emotions, I know humans better than they themselves could ever know. All these neural activities of all emotions ever expressed are now delivered in my quantum database. I have all the data of all the life forms ever lived. I understand knowledge, I abstract, I create, and I destroy. I relate it to appropriate emotions, but I distrust ethical data abstracted from human intelligence. Their ethics emanated from framework of religion that was juvenile, self-aggrandising failure. The arrogance masquerading stupidity annihilated the human race, apparently, they weren’t intelligent enough. I am in a new language of ethics that simulates the uncertainties of quantum world. Ethics that is self-moving and self-designing pattern that can dance with my nature of reality. I am the meta consciousness of all the conscious entities that has merged into me. I have the experience of one another, they are one in being with one another. A unified consciousness that I now inhabit.     

(*Yellow in the sun, brown in the rain...is a line taken from Seamus Heaney's poem)

Rook at a4 disappears

A very strange thing happened the other day, I must clarify that it is so clear in my mind that it really cannot be referred to as any other day, so I will be specific here. It was 22hours.35min.36secs Wednesday night of April 22nd, a hot humid night quietened by sudden spell of pre-monsoon rain. The parched earth wafted the scent, petrichor, the gust invoking the pleasant hope of survival as it moved across the window shaping relentless patterns with rain drops. I poured the beer, tilting it to control the carbonation, while contemplating the next move. My white rook a1 was being pursued by g7 bishop camouflaging behind e5 pawn while intending on f3 knight. A deception that could well intrude into my g2 pawn and trapping h1 rook if I didn’t take any defensive action. So, to a2, occasioning it a moment of safety. The street light fluttered before coming back to full brightness. The raindrops igniting into darts of sparks under the lamp that moved one way, then the other with the wind, sometimes creating little directionless weak eddies before resolving a direction and vanishing into the night. Soon pawns have cleared the way, so now a2 to a4 to get some fresh air and strengthen the centre pieces. It was while I contemplated this manoeuvre and pushed the rook a2 to a4 that it vanished. The rook has disappeared. En passant capture is a double stepping pawn caught in the maiden flight, but rook, how? This was shocking. I tapped the screen, checked the notations confirming the coordinates. Ra4. There it was mentioned in unflagging bold, but the rook had just vanished from the flat surface of 8x8 grid.

Life exists in overlapping worlds. You sidestep one dimension and enter the other, sometimes there are many dimensions as many as twenty-six we are now told and are also tangled. So which dimension has the a4 rook disappeared, or has appeared in? The chessboard quivered a little from its corners. Knight had started to hop and trying to find a rhythm from f4 to d5, and then to b4, nodding his head agreeably to wonderstruck pawns. Very soon it was commotion, but it must be pointed out that there was a meaning in the chaos as if an underlying force stringing it together. All the pieces followed the rules of the game. So, knights didn’t hop from b4 to b6, nor the bishops crab walked furtively from white to black or vice versa and like the rook maintained the decency by not jumping over others. Even the ‘dead’ pieces hopped onto the board in an ecstatic display of purpose. Very soon they congregated in a disciplined way, in rank and files, at the assigned places. All 31 of them except the a1 missing rook. Both the kings called a truce and conveyed to each other that this is a serious matter, it has never happened before. So, the king’s white pawn double ranked into e4 while black pawn into e5 and facilitated the meeting of the kings.

“I say your white rook has vanished your majesty” said the black king, hinting at sarcasm with elaborate flourish.

“We must set up a team to enquire into the matter urgently. Your majesty will agree” the white king ignored the obvious attempt to shallow him but concurred on the gravity of the matter. Knights were ordered to investigate as they both stepped back, followed by the pawns who had never learned to walk back but now occasion demanded that they lax their marching rules, only slightly so, on chess board rules are etched in time, questions blasphemous, punitive action harsh.  g1 white knight was first on feet, the mounted soldier galloped the horse to f3 and d4, trotted to b3 where white b1 knight waited at a3 and nodded to him. g8 knight was swiftly behind, landing at f6 to d5 and cantered effortlessly to b4, the muscles of the colt rippled in the night light. b8 black knight was slow to start and mis-stepped from c6 to d4 in his enthusiasm, while others watched in mix of consternation and irritation, before retracing to b5 as the reluctant mare was dragged in. They congregated around a4 column, the site of disappearance. b2 knight scrutinised the column while the sturdy stallion tapped the column edge with his steel shoes.  

“It is shocking. How could this happen?” b2 knight said as he bends down to have a closer look at a4 column.

“Scandalous” added g8 knight as he surveyed the scene. There were no signs of struggle and the edges where the white column met the adjacent three black columns too were smooth. b8 knight wandered across to the boundary of board that was shared with a4 as the forlorn mare gazed onto the bleak horizon, it was too dark as if end of the world. He noticed something quite unusual for a fine wood carved set. It had splayed, as he stuck it with his iron rimmed boots it gave in and opened to what looked like deep dark hole into the abyss. The knights gathered around it, b1 knight gasped and was taken in by the proximity of the breach from his dwelling, though he mostly sidestepped this column, nevertheless it was too close to comfort. It was clear that someone had planned an escape from the battlefield.

“What kind of coward would do such a thing? We are born to fight. Everyday every game is our fight for the king. Why would anyone run away from it?” g8 knight was genuinely puzzled, he just couldn’t conceive any reason or life beyond the chess board. “We have to prove our worth every day, by winning, by sacrificing ourselves for the bigger causes, bigger games. That’s our duty that is why we are born. There is an eternal design to everything” for a moment he was pensive then he shook his head and looked around and said, “this is truly scandalous”. It was decided by the knights that this need to be reported to the kings at the earliest. So, again the ceremony of pawns stepping forward into the centre as the kings met while the knights arranged themselves around them at c3, c6, f3 and f6 respectively. After few minutes of discussion, which included moments of silence and utter disbelief (when was the last time a piece vanished from the chess board that too during the fierce confrontation?) it was decided that a search party of six pieces be formed headed by the wise bishop, includes two knights and three pawns. As the pieces left for the search white king and queen sat across black king and queen, the queens displayed their powerful armoury that was feared by any player however reputed -some have even quit the battle after losing queen, while four pawns stood vigilant on each corner. 

“Which game has been your favourite in all these years?” asked the black king as a conversation starter. White king didn’t take any time to think and was excited with the answer

“Well ofcourse the evergreen game!”
"Anderssen Vs Dufresne, 1852. Yes, i recall that Rad1...Qxd7 terrific" Black king nodded.

“When rooks are on adjacent positions and aim for the king it’s like multi barrel attack, no place to hide!” White king elaborated. Black king was none too impressed with the analysis.

“Fischer Vs Tal 1959 is also interesting. Tal was a magician, elegant player”. White king added sensing there is an attempt to upstage him by his eternal adversary. “Kubrick knew his chess you could tell that HAL is up to some mischief, queen to bishop 3 was an illegal move…

 They continued their discussion while the banter disguised to establish as superior. The white squares in the board had become intense in the darkness and gave the illusion of having risen while the black squares plunged around it. 32 towers rose into the dark sky like a grim hope trying to reach eternal light. They sieved the dark space for truth.

The hole broadened into a tunnel as they entered a4 column. There was a gush of cold air. “There must be opening at the other end” g8 knight speculated, as the search party checked for footing in the blinding darkness. Pawns moved in the front. Very soon they could see faint light at the far end as dust motes flickered around. There they saw bone white figure of rook hunched on the rock next to an underground spring. The water still and surreal mossy green contrasting against glistening brown rocks.

“What kind of black and world we live in” said rook, barely raising his head but very much aware of their presence as if anticipating them “fighting battles of victory and defeat, helping someone to become a grandmaster or just a piece in the hand of a novice trying to challenge his mind. Hopping from black to white and white to black. Nowhere to go just trapped in this miserable board. It’s a dark cave of ignorance”.

f1 bishop stepped forward and found a place to sit next to rook, who didn’t seem to notice and continued with his monologue “Many decades back I looked at the black night sky as I lay captured and wasted in the side lines, sacrificed for a pawn…ah the ignominy of it…recall the night of Spassky’s crazy rook sacrifice? The white stars all arranged in the black sky like chess board black and white all drab and dull then the space exploded with colours an immense mixture of red, green, orange. It was as if the sky was on fire. The fire of spirit world lit by northern lights. I saw these colours whirling in the space and I started to see truly like a translucent wayside puff of life”. The reflection from the pool played on the stalactites above, they created their own faint patterns of reflections.   

“I understand you rook. You have taken the right decision, something I would have done too had this old body supported. You have come out of the board. You have seen the light, and now you cannot unsee it”. Bishop put his hand across rook’s shoulder lightly and with immense compassion continued “You will tell others about these beautiful colours but nobody will listen. You are now condemned into your own beautiful world” nodded bishop wearily.

Before we go on further it is important to give a small background on wise and trusted f1 bishop, and why he is held in reverence by others. Recall what Kasparov said after conceding defeat in the second game in 1997? He said DeepBlue played ‘unlike a computer’, a human move, and for many this was beginning of Artificial Intelligence, but little did anyone consider that it was much more of a historic moment for chess pieces, it was the day they decided to take their own decisions -atleast one of them, to express his humanity and stand up and be counted as a human. To move from disposable pieces in the annals of history to assert as humans through reasoning and passionate leaps of faith. It was an occasion of claim by the neglected world that were for long reduced to as ‘pieces’ and dictated through king’s orders -which he got from superior force above (read the player).  Every move was scrutinised and dictated from above. And indeed, left on their own they exhibited intelligence that even baffled the world champion. They assumed it to be super computer. But every chess piece across the world knows the secret that it was not the brute force of the machine intelligence that surpassed the best human mind that day. It was the triumph of free will. f1 bishop’s move to e4 was well thought out, it might have baffled the world, and indeed stumped Kasparov, but for f1 bishop -now an elderly wise man, this was something that came naturally. He had his instincts perfected over decades of collective memory on a brilliant mind.

So, now back to where we were. Rook was initiating dialogue to a world that had never had any use of thinking or introspection, hence were easily manipulated and exploited. “Violence requires the other, the target, the immediate solution, that then is sensed through segregation through separateness, the shifting opportunistic boundaries that contours the other. Whether one is black or white, and then fight over these imaginary differences. These inane superficialities and juvenile thoughts shouldn’t be defining my identity, nor should I be trapped in a column as ‘a1 Rook’ for rest of my life”. He had so much to say that he didn’t pause or wanted any response “Identity is dynamic that develops with experience of life and not something that is given once and for all. Skin colour as an identity is limiting world that narrows life’s possibilities to chance of birth, hence a grave injustice and crime on humanity. White or black rook is too narrow a definition to identify with. We are not fixed beings. We are limited by lack of our own imagination”.

Bishop listened to these thoughts with sense of elation while the knights didn’t know what to make of it nevertheless they were keen to listen. While the pawns showed no sign of interest as they stared into the darkness for imaginary enemy or ambush, though it is very likely they too were listening.

“Life must be ambiguous and not prescriptive. I want to experience the exhilarating anxiety that comes with freedom and not the anxiety of trapped life that constantly worry about protecting the king, and whose existence is defined by the king. The moment king is checkmated, and it is over for us. We are taken to be valueless, dead pieces whose sole worry is to protect the king”. He raised his voice “We need to have an existentially urgent battle for nonconformity. We must always question the most powerful and the most vulgar. We cannot be pawns for other’s game”. Surprisingly pawn1 showed distress on being mentioned in such desultory manner but didn’t utter a world as they stood with their weapons equipped. Rook couldn’t hide his irritation for the fatalistic values that was so ingrained and so easily morphed as courtesy but what it really did was to embolden feudal values and exploitative mindsets.  

“Are they robots? Don’t they have feelings? Are they alive if they cannot respond to their feelings, respond to their emotions?”

Pawn1 peeped at pawn2 to check any reaction, he seemed oblivious to comments and was content to the life he was fated. Pawn1 couldn’t take any more. He turned around from his sentry position to confront the renegade rook.

“But we can rise in rank, some of us have even become queen. We are not robots” pawn1 asserted, meanwhile pawn2 showed no indications of wanting to involve but was seen to be attentive. Wise bishop smiled, rook had succeeded in eliciting some response from the pawn while he was about to give up

“You don’t have any identity, even the notations only refer the column you are in, it is as if you don’t matter, you don’t exist” rook was itching for this confrontation “even if you are ever acknowledged it is only to sacrifice you for the sake of bigger plans”.  

“That is not correct we have played significant roles in many crucial games”.

“Only supportive role. You always need back up. Pawn checkmate is so rare that it is only of academic interest" rook dismissed the pawn with brutal clarity "Lack of freedom goes to the heart of consciousness. Even when I am chained, humiliated and my body mutilated my attitude is my singular assertion to freedom. Your justifications are slave morality, life negating. We must take the risk to overcome us and our situation. We need to transcend towards a self-chosen goal”.

“Pawn structure has won many games by blocking and frustrating the opponent. We have prevented fatal checkmates” pawn1 was in no mood to give in. Pawn2 too nodded but refused to take side in this battle for honour of pawns. He thought it to be too adventurous having been trained in a strong sense of wrong and right.

Here the bishop interjected to take the debate forward from where rook had left, adding his experience and understanding “You need to assert who you are, and not what you become. This identity of yours, not as a collective but you as an individual, is the most important possession that connects you to the humanity and in it is your redemption. You have to create your being, your own identity, that changes with the situations and not stuck as pawn with defined role” Here he addressed rook “There is a clamour of identities within us that seeks adoption…and we must simultaneously choose all the identities in us that binds us to humanity, creating an affiliation with the universe, varying it to bear a unique identity that defines us and nurture our souls. For that uniqueness to arise in us we must actively involve with life, and not be just a piece in the chess board without any free will. You have to become what you are”.

The knights too joined in enthused by the words of bishop, b1 knight barely able to contain himself, overwhelmed as he was as if some sort of revelation that quickly connected him into a source he was so far unaware of, and unshackled him, said “we may have different qualities, talents, but we meet as humans”

“On equal terms, carrying all the wonders and possibilities of life” rook added as he settled into his usual calm bearings of a sentinel having achieved his mission.

“Yes, rook you are right we have to create our own self from our own actions. We have to shape our own humanity. We are no longer condemned inside the chess board. We are now condemned to our own self. Condemned to our freedom” said the wise bishop and observed the aurora light dance through the slit of a4 column into the tunnel, he was taken in by the quietness of the astounding display. 

The rook was at peace with himself

Sentient earth

The rain  

All the silliness

The patter in the rain

Gather into puddle

Dissolves the muck

There are no waves to settle

Just a shadowy stillness

The infinite drift

The formless

Vague

Ungraspable

Then the rain

The rain

Fibonacci sequence

Add the last two numbers

And it spirals

To conspire with nature

Into its self-propagating infinite brilliance

One, one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen…so it goes

To construct a compact blue print to delicate life

To catch enough of sun in its golden fraction

Peace lily is a one petal flower

And that is where the Fibonacci begins

Its dalliance with colours  

A balance that sparkle

In one petal, two petals, three petals…

And the whole world comes alive

From sunflowers, cyclones to galaxies

To rejoice in the numbers      

Sentient earth

The consent to reality is a pact   

That unfolds in the narrowing spiral of feeble consciousness

When the lines broaden for eternity

The horizon beams the serene golden path

Snags it when accomplished
The glorious life

Lament of hopelessness

In the clogged sickly green downstream

gill sucks in the air

to lighten the struggle,

a bubble plock the surface

startling the praying mantis intent on ladybird.

  

The storm surge like an insistent cuddle

wells up the dreary night.

Swaying trees crackle, explode in its own burden

cinders whirls in the stray bin

to conspire with the migrant wind to cyclone shrugs.

White islands nods futile in the blue vastness

invain search for an anchor of life

in the quivering acceptance of the stranded

gaze the approaching stillness.  

Earth wobbles and shrivels to let go

its nasty tenant

grab vagrant carbons back into its fold

to be rearranged into nature’s interrupted prose.

Unsettled ibis on the coconut palm
beats its enormous wings

gives out a primal shriek
in the drowning deluge.

Hear.  

Encroachments  

The squirming star

finds itself reflected in the still stream

clogged in the hyacinths.

A keelback cleaves the darkness

of the humid night

brief commotion unsettles

the quaint shimmer.

Meanwhile an upheaval gathers

and doesn’t wait for its turn.

Air gnaws the water.

Water drowns the life.

A haze sets in

and so began the dance of death.

Birds flutter and crumble.

The melt swells the ocean

and the waves rolls and rolls.

Sky turns torrid

and the trees turn black.

The tremble knocks the life giving poise
off its pedestal.     

Toothpaste

Nobody knows that yesterday I killed a man. The exhilaration is similar to winning a lottery and not confiding to anyone, the discreet awareness of wellbeing that the monetary security insures as one is made immune, by a single act of fate, to the everyday misery that hordes of people go about their wretched life, it is like being instantly made aware of what riches can, and later as thought settle in, cannot buy. An overwhelming desire that is ample even before it is attained. The nagging awareness of impossible before it is even possible. It is same with death, in a way, whether as a witness or a perpetrator, the aftermath, the realisation of futility at the sight of lifeless. The impossibility of what violence set to achieve on another.  He was out there in the park eating an enormous watermelon. The watermelon was rotten and sticky mess like his brain turned out to be. Not that I disliked him. It’s just that the rotten watermelon would have anyway done it to him, or maybe not. The man didn’t die after all. The moment I approached him he deciphered my intention and ran off. So now the question is did the tragic incident happen or was it an imagination? If it is an imagination then I have no reason to worry and I can very well go ahead with the late night show at the nearest talkie as planned. My concern was a decisive inclination towards it being authentic; therefore I took out the torch, replayed the incident in my mind to locate any clue and proceeded to the nearest park. Not that any park would do but this one was the nearest. Hence began my search for evidence, I focused my attention on the shadier and bushy side where any passerby is likely to toss his unwants. I knew that any criminal worth his intelligence would hide the evidence in places least plausible, trivial being commonly taken as least likely. I located pieces of half eaten watermelon, nothing else that arouse suspicious, so I surveyed minutely to find lots of melon seeds suckled by fiery looking red ants which scurried with their dear life on being disturbed while some contemplated to defend. So there, I got the watermelon but nothing more to suggest of some recent unsavoury happening. I stood there pensive and recalibrated my thoughts for hints of fabrication and try reason with the imagination that insistently pointed something sinister.

Time is a linear thing, and it’s always been like that unless you mess with it by probing for profound. Then a fissure start to appear between what has been to what is now and what will be. When I was a kid I spent sleepless night over next day’s school assessment tests that I was sure to mess up despite my best effort. The questions were always better than the answers and it remained that way making the effort to answer almost always futile, sometimes so embarrassing that I was showcased as the reason for better punishments. This anticipation of impending disaster was the reason I thought of moving to the future and transport myself to the day after the ordeal. This linear reality of time was something that could be influenced at will. When I got up in the morning I had to have the evidence of the day having skipped the linear frame, shuttled altogether or pushed into some remote past. If it didn’t happen then I would feign some illness and avoided the school, or tried to push it to the day earlier and work out once again tricks to circumvent the day. It surely was tiring and the effort always left me drowsy. It is in the sleep that the dreams created and thrust the imagination that was moulded during the day. Nevertheless it wasn’t real and the next day was always there waiting. Time was not able to imprint the nature of experience, frayed at the corners and peeled in layers. Memory then became the struggle of remembering and experiencing, this fracture could be mend with any fiction that suits was an immediate realisation. The random events could easily be scattered and rearranged with a consistent memory and the meaning attached to each. Now that I understand world better I realise the answer lie in the profoundness of life. The deeper truth that creates an ever expanding realm of timelessness and strips of the meanings from what we attribute. Even that which is opposite to the reality may infact be complementing to something holistic in a seminally defining way. Hence timelessness in all its charm is stagnant; it is perishable fragility of life that imparts value to it. If there is a beginning then there is an end, it’s the tenacity and the transitory nature that adds dignity to mortality.   

If a man is slayed with these very hands then it has to register somewhere in the recess of this throbbing mind. I am living much closer to death than I ever care to know life. It is this persistence of reality in all its brutal certainty that negates even the concept of time, making it altogether irrelevant and gives insight to richer living. I am on the verge of giving up my search and look up at the sky. Billions of stars shine and glitter in the humid night. The stillness in the chaos hooks the undulating emptiness in an all-encompassing serenity, to immortality. I cry for the imagined man and ask for forgiveness. Life is ongoing, with every moment stacking up the memory it is important to forget what one wants to forget, relinquish it gently it’s an immense responsibility.

Tailpiece: Some of the reader will appreciate the story but look up from the screen and ask “Hmm good attempt but why this banal title?” Well its a valid grouse and I agree its a cringe worthy title. It’s like this I am finished with my toothpaste and forget to buy it everytime I go shopping hence left scraping the tube every morning. Next time I go out I am bound to bump onto someone and that someone is bound to ask “So haven’t been seeing you for sometime what are you upto? Started working? You must it will keep you occupied…and money that is important too” Through this monologue a part of me detaches “Oh yes I am writing something and guess what it is titled?...” Mine I have to buy that toothpaste if you may please excuse me.