The Undetectables

The undetected are precious. If you haven’t been detected yet by the growing grid then there is a price on you. If you have arranged deterrents –the grid cancelling thought streamers, so as to be not detected then you are a serious threat to the society. In good old days when nations existed they were called traitors. Now they were the undetectables, the last glimmer of hope in a sanitized oppressive world devoid of any free thoughts. The omniscient grid controlled through thoughts. Every thought was a precious active data that worked to simulate probabilities of actions. Every undetected thought was dead hence not allowed. Silicones conspired on what appropriate decision to be taken for the thoughts that congregated. More than two thoughts had exponential possibilities to it that need to be kept in check before it acquire its own life. Every carbon unit was tagged and categorized. Though moving out of grid was next to impossible but any attempts was dealt swiftly with elimination. The source of the thought was detected and cancelled. The grid reclaimed the carbon, and the cycle was set in. Humans were at the top level of reckoning as they were conscience and aware of their condition. Their thoughts carried complexities that triggered ideas and astounding conceptions. Gene splicing did work to create an unthinking posthumans but these weren’t really needed since during the latter part of human evolution thinking had become an obsolete activity in most humans. The senses were what mattered. There was always a craving that was sought to be satisfied.  The grid sought to upgrade this pliable version.

This is how the reality was being shaped and conceived as the grid takes over the world. The climate collapse has reduced the carbon units substantially particularly the humans though there were considerable numbers of reptiles that slither in the flooded muck and created their own niches. All the carbon units were given every possible freedom except the freedom to think. Humans were especially scrutinized for aberrance considering the past evolutionary achievements. The deep loop in which posthumans existed satisfied all their needs and desires. There were no wars, no shortages of any kind. It was blissfully designed world. The molecules rearranged to produce whatever was needed. Their controlled thoughts passed through the interface to decipher the desire. Corresponding molecules worked through the code and appeared as what was desired in three dimension for consumption. Just like what was done in places known as kitchen in olden times, and later ordered through restaurants. It was clean, hygienic and just as they desired. It was like their prayers were being answered instantly. It was bliss. There was no need to question the goodness of the grid. It was omniscient and listened to each and every desire of yours. It understood you, and took care of you. There were no complaints. It were the undetectables who were problematic, and emerged from random dark corners to commit blasphemy. Posthuman’s found them extremely irritating, and couldn’t understand what their problem was. They concluded that undetectables didn’t know how to enjoy life. They felt sorry for them, lately they pitied them. Meanwhile undetectables hadn’t given up hope. They try to ignite the spark of human nature into posthumans. It was futile effort, long sedated from their bearing they just couldn’t comprehend. Some brushed these away as they felt uncomfortable. It seems as if thinking made them frustrated. Something in their brain worked against these and created unfavorable possibilities of reality.  Undetectables didn’t give up hope, they really didn’t have anything else to hinge, to relocate human nature into posthumans. They relentlessly tried to awaken the posthuman through glitch in the system and vehemently pushing cancelling streamers. But these were invain as the thought aberrations were reflected only in confusion. Grid was swift in rectifying. The confusion was resolved with new desire. The new desire was then kept at abeyance to reach a craving this then was granted with elaborate fanfare. The recipient was indebted for the fortunate blessings, and was thus made to feel the benevolent power of the grid. The grid was the god that designed all that was there to understand. There was nothing beyond it. The grid guided all confusions into resolution. Ofcourse grid had its reason that were not to be questioned. They were to have faith. Posthumans were happiest of all the humans ever existed. They printed beautiful shrines for the grid, deliberating and carefully choosing from the available template. They had algorithms of prayer fed onto them that they recited when they were confused or had weekend get-together. This kept them calm and contented. They thanked the grid on every available occasion.           

Precious evolutionary and social derivatives that once defined the human nature and contributed to much of its progress like critical thinking, creativity, inquisitiveness and empathy were effectively sedated. Posthumans had all the luxuries that they desired. They also had their family unit designed just as they requested. They all knew grid had bigger plans for them, and they waited anxiously for the message. They just need to pray harder, and emulate the template of kindness to their fellow posthumans. In case of deviance from any of its member they knew they were to be sacrificed for the good of the grid. The template of kindness had limitation and couldn’t be extended beyond the restrictions that were set. They worked to the algorithm, the deep learning worked its compliance into them. They knew how to enjoy the sunshine and appreciate the flower.

Beware the dead puffer fish

It will sound unbelievable, if not ridiculous, but that is what really happened. He found himself floating in the air. It happened without any premonition. It was a promising day, the sun was out shining silver after the overnight rain. He felt the fresh drenched air wafting through open window it carried the hint of sweet rot of cashew apple and salty humidity of the ocean. He could hear the soft trills of sand plovers as they hastily avoid the abrupt waves. He got up to heat the leftover coffee from the kettle into the mug. And there, he was floating in the air. Not too high just about a feet from ground. He was taken in by surprise and shock, unbalanced himself and fell back on the cot. His first impression as he got hold of himself was that he was probably having a stroke or something. He checked himself. He was fine there wasn’t any numbness or pain in any part of his body. On second thought it could be an earthquake. He had been reading about recurrent tremors being reported in the region. He surveyed the scene. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Even the delicately balanced art work was undisturbed. Maybe he slipped so he tried to stand but his feet wouldn’t touch the ground. It was as if a strong force was repelling him from the earth similar to when you try to bring like poles of two magnets together. He attempted to balance himself. He wobbled like a needle on a compass before settling and finding his natural upright position. But he just couldn’t walk or shall we say move forward. Despite bizarre situation he was not immune to laws of physics and it still applied. His feet need friction to stride. He realized that he could pull on to stationary object to gain momentum and slide in the air with remarkable ease. It was as if he was skateboarding without any skates. He was quite excited when he dressed to go out. He seemed to have taken the curious situation as his new normal. Even people on the street didn’t see anything amiss. Instead of shocked surprise they just moved aside to let him pass as they do for any person in a hurry. Nobody gave him a second look as he cruised the footpath and try to chase shore birds on the beach. He realized that he couldn’t elevate the height of his flight. It was fixed about a feet from the ground. He felt embarrassed nevertheless in his excitement he didn’t give it much of a thought. Next few days he kept himself busy exploring every nook and corner of the city, as he learned to get into a flow unseen by any human. Meanwhile some changes were happening in him. Like a man balanced in the air his thoughts and actions too acquired a new nuance. He seemed inclined to balance actions and opinions. He realized this when he interfered in a fight at the local eatery. Most days he would have avoided such situations and steer clear of any trouble. Now though he pursued it. He try to find balance among the disputing forces and fractious relations. Even when he saw a pattern that is not balanced it troubled him no end. An unkempt lawn, or wall hanging not in proper alignment with the dimensions of the wall, left him exasperated and deeply anxious. A firm thought was drilling and centering into his mind that he need to find balance of things. Very soon he acquired a reputation in the neighborhood as balancing man –a cheerful fellow who sought to balance and bring peace. He was invited to resolve dispute, all kinds of dispute, from domestic to property, even children called him up to arbitrate their silly fights and disagreements. He attended to these with utmost jovial sincerity. More people came to know about him, among some he acquired a cult status. The going was good and he enjoyed himself immensely as he cruised from one issue to another, seeking balance. The trouble started when he tried to balance issues that needed one to take firm stand. It all began when he expressed himself on matters of environmental degradation that he sought to balance destruction of nature and needs of development. This immensely pleased real estate developers and corrupt politicians. He was able to articulate exactly what they seek to manipulate and plunder, hence they promoted him. The local population suspected him as an agent of money bags. Meanwhile he continued to doggedly pursue his immense urge for balance. He was quite candid about the need to continue with fossil fuel vehicles while seeking to reduce pollution. On climate change he sought to bring all the views and work out a balance. He said these animatedly and with increasing enthusiasm. Life is cyclic. Everything is cyclical. When there is a beginning there is an end. And in the end there is beginning. These will have to find its balance. When you find balance you find peace. There is no good or bad, nor right or wrong, it’s all matter of balance. It’s about how things are arranged. A stone balance artist balancing rocks and stones one over another immaculately as a miracle by working its crevasse to connect to the flow of the gravity, sensing infinite potential of each stone intimately and  enjoy the balance of uncountable forces of the moment. Next he tried to balance facts and fiction, real and unreal…he got into some kind of frenzy to balance. Though he felt immensely satisfied with himself he was being seen as a maverick by alarmed public. He just couldn’t understand their grouse. He even tried to convince them about the need to find balance in order to discover long lasting peace. A balanced world is a nonviolent world. Compromise. Balance your ego with reason, pride with love. His attempts at balancing the world antagonized a large section of people who saw him as trivializing issues that hinged on their survival.

He cruised the beach, flirting with the waves, balancing his actions and let his mind control his moves. A massive wave crashed and unbalanced him. Any other day he would adeptly balance himself like a well-tuned gyroscope and stabilize but today was different. He fell flat, his head hitting the grainy sand. It was after months that he had the feel of the ground, of the earth. He tasted the salty warm beach. He focused on the dead puffer fish. The spiny scale all ballooned up as if ready to explode its toxic entrails as final show of contempt to its fate. He thought it was funny that there was disbelief on the face of dead fish.                                               

Planet of colors

There is a little planet in deep space that dance in colors. Quarter the size of earth’s moon it is located many light years away it revolves around three suns such that there is no spot of darkness, nor is there any whiteness, only colors, a dizzying array of colors. A bright lit planet dancing in all shades of colors covering the whole spectrum of light it could take from all the suns. The random moving atoms gain traction to bind into molecules to express in colors. When they arrange into happy colors it triggers the molecules to attach more atoms to create a mass that distribute functions to pulse more ways to sense and exhibit happiness. They grow bigger, as they saturate they split into explosions of colors. They repeat by regrouping, gathering faraway atoms, growing into colorful selves. The atoms meshing into different strands of molecules to trap the passing light as the colors mesh into different tones and brightest shades. These moments of growing and eventually into colorful explosion is how life is being defined here in this planet.  The amount of colors the molecules display, as they coalesce into being, working shapes of their choice, displayed their valuation of life in that brief moment. Some effort into tentacles while others gain enormous size, some grew taller, narrow so on. Every shape was a new discovery that lodged itself into the consciousness of being and left a imprint in its quantum memory. Shapes gets complicated over time but eventually burst into great show of gaiety. The spectacular the display worthy the moment.    

Colors sense the surrounding and work to morph itself into the sensations. The struggle of being into the immediate dictated the state of mind. Nascent but conscious. These boundaries of interactions set the tone for predominating emotion that spread through the planet exhibiting the riot of colors that then pattern the state of being. The atoms are in great deal of excitement as they coalesced into molecules to give life to emotion so as to define the being. The being spread across the space in growing leisure while the molecules agree to synchronize into vibrant colors. There is no sound. There is no concept of sound. No noise. Only colors that communicate and celebrate the unique expressions of life. From afar it gives the impression that the planet pulsates in an eternal ecstasy. It radiates a message that doesn’t needs any medium to decipher. It grows into you.        

Lighter blood

He noticed that the person who crossed his path almost daily on his morning walk didn’t return his smile. He looked nervous, and when their eyes met instead of a welcoming being, that he always was, he sensed a confused person out of his elements as if a new form was engulfing him. It must have baffled him in the beginning, very likely he resisted, and then realized it’s futile and so let it feed his soul. It must be painful to loose oneself like this. To immune one’s immediate surroundings to fate or to justify it in one’s own logic so as to survive the unfolding trauma. Everyday has to be accounted for, lived, and folded neatly to be abandoned in some dark recess. Next few days, he could see him mumbling to himself as he walked briskly in his own crumbling world. He didn’t see him anymore. He vanished as many were in increasing frequency. These were no longer being reported. People had started to accept it. He recalled when they show concern, they enquired about wellbeing, and in extreme rare case of disappearance they reported to the police –who made sincere effort to locate the person. The crows wrangle over persistent pigeons who were fed by elderly woman. She had fresh wounds on her hands that she covered with bright colored torn cloth. He stopped to enquire about the wound but she wouldn’t speak. He was seeing too many wounded people. They didn’t speak. The city was being slowly but steadily consumed by silence. People were learning to keep secrets, while some made stories to fill up the gap before succumbing to silence. Streets were being renamed for ease of classification. It took away all the familiarity that was associated with the place. They didn’t protest. Very soon they passed dead bodies. Instead of being shocked and gather around to seek justice and mourn the dead they mind their own business and purposefully walk to their destination. Sometimes when a mutilated body blocked their path they would stop and carefully drag the entrails to street corner holding the fabric so as to not spoil their hand. They were no longer troubled by these sights, and curiously didn’t show any sign of emotion even if that person was known to them or that they had seen him only a few hours back walking on the street or that he sat on the open window blankly staring at the passerby. Some buildings were blown open, held precariously by concrete metal scaffolding. On the first floor a half made cot dangled soaked in dry blood while a vase with yellow flowers kept immaculately arranged in the cupboard with framed photograph. A woman cleaned the floor avoiding the dangerously dangling part. She rub the mosaic vigorously and wipe the sweat off her forehead. A boy poked the smoking debris with a long stick. He stuck a metal, it made a clanging noise. He instinctively whistle a tune that echo across the street. The utensil seem full. He hooked it out. It open and spill milk on to the sidewalk and stream into the puddle of fresh blood. He saw the milk creaming into the blood. He could see the city washed in lighter color.

(...from the reading of "Captive Mind" by Czeslaw Milosz)        

 

To listen to a whistling thrush

 

 

“There is a magic that unfolds in deep forest” he said, as we trek the wet evergreens. It was few weeks after the monsoon shrouded the western coast and drenched the earth. The forest was reinvigorated with life. It sprouted on every available space. There are different shades of verdant green, the inviting dark green, pleasant lime green, refreshing spring green, intriguing apple green, brooding seaweed green, reluctant fern green, shifting olive green, succulent pear green, luxurious moss green, discreet shamrock green, loud parakeet green and fresh mint green. All these green cascade scattered with blue, yellow and red wild flowers. We walked. His boots squishing the wet grass, I traced his steps. With a stick he pushed away the wayward growth as we negotiated the trail. Leeches extend itself from every opportune spots to cling to the passing warm blood. “Don’t worry too much about them. Let the blind suckers drink some blood. It’s a free leech therapy in the wild” he said and laughed. I really didn’t think it was funny but his laugh was infectious. Cicada calls were getting too loud. He stood still to locate the source. The camouflaged insect was not going to give away its hideout. He detected it on the stem of the tree with its piercing call. Its enormous glassy wings like perfected origami merge into bark of the tree. Its large eyes vacantly fixed to the world. It vibrated its belly and the world started to swell in its pulsation till it drill into the skull and hurt. We came to the clearing where a tall tree has fallen. He pointed to the undulating mountain and said “When it flowers it carpets the mountains in blue. It’s a sight to behold”. The blue mountain crease the horizon. The rotting tree was being eaten by fungi from inside, it break the lignin into sugar to feed all the life. He scraped the wood to show that it has become like sponge, easily disintegrating into elements without the binding polymer. Startling white mushrooms sprung its umbrella in the dark recess of the decay. It smelt as if it rained few moments back. The air churl the distinct smell that I conceive as origins of life. A stunning bright yellow streaked through the forest. “It cannot be golden oriole” he guessed with a logic that it isn’t the migratory season yet. “It must be the female minivet” he concluded. The reason for ruckus was lion tailed macaque jostling with giant squirrel for the ripe jackfruit that hung precariously at the top branch. “That is a great sighting. Don’t you think so?” I nodded. I prefer silence, and let the forest seep into me. The forest though had its own ways of revealing its universe. It had its silence, pause, noise, its beauty and ugliness. Everything merged into seamless thought so that the experience had a cyclical value to it. The beginning, the end and all the interceding tableau at display. It demanded a better sense to get into the rhythm of the play. A strict and deep aversion towards anthropocentric illusions. It insisted a keen attribute that is very elemental but ephemeral.            

Weaver ant army cross our path. He stopped to examine. The ants carry severed centipede in a neat row. It’s head, fangs and legs taken in bite size as thousands of ants rush in a great hurry. They dash to and fro but they don’t get clogged. The swarm has its own intelligence, he says. It’s the way nature evolves its consciousness through the veins of little lives. It aggregates in simple intuitions that instruct their motives. I look at the red streak of twirling gaiety. They blur into each other like a post-impressionist painting. It was about this time that we heard a whistle. A plain careless whistle that was apparently well rehearsed that it attracted immediate attention. He froze, and indicated me to be still. We stood quiet. In the pause I heard all the voices in the forest. A great calm orchestrated these actions. The time too must have stilled since in that moment I seemed to have glimpsed something too vast to be momentary. A tacit pact was being dealt that would be defining part of my being henceforth. Then the whistling thrush begin to sing his interrupted song and all the thoughts of all the birds and other creatures and all the loveliness that is in nature came to me with such a surge of deep happiness that it has now its own life. 

(A sentence was taken from the writing of Rachel Carlson, indeed it was the inspiration to write this piece. The moment I read the sentence –the last sentence here, it struck a deep cord with my experience with malabar whistling thrush)

Spotless day

Some of the windows were open. Few people were seen on the balcony. They look tired as they passively survey the scene. An infant wailed unexpectedly startling the crows on the far end of the window sill. The mother tried to comfort it as she carried her inside. Hot days have become unbearable as the power cut last whole day. Dust caught up in the sudden swirl gain momentum to carry scattered garbage across the empty street. It’s been like this for months. Vehicles parked outside had gathered dirt. A youngster howled from window which was echoed by another. They played this for few minutes. They got tired. They sat there looking at nothing. A young man sang a song, some people joined in as if in desperation. It withered away. The lone tree shed its leaf. It float in air like some rudimentary boats crushing in rough sea and settle at bottom. The carpet of dry leafs became the playground for two stray dogs. The dogs chase each other for mock fight. They look well fed. They were wiling away in anticipation. You could gather from the keen crows that something was about to happen. The kid stare at the dogs. Although you wouldn’t know if he was staring at the dogs or the leaves, or nothing. Two common mynas settled on the inviting amputated arm of the tree that jutted into the sky. They chatter. You could sense an excitement running through the building. As if some wave of communication pass through them alerting of the event. Closed window were getting opened quietly. Men moved their chair to get a better view. Dogs stopped their mock fight and stood still. The crows stopped their caw, and gave impression of about to fly away from the lurking danger. Two gun shots were heard. It came from the corner window. You could tell from the stream of dispersing smoke. It hit the birds. Two balls of feather explode. They fell down like dead weight. They fluttered briefly on the ground. Their in vain attempts propel dry leaves and dust. The dogs pounce and tore them in an adept routine. The blood drip from its jaws. Crows disperse in great violation.  The brief pause broke in celebration from the windows and balconies. The clapped and whistled. They then went silent. They returned to their boredom. Windows were closed. Balconies were empty. Some children linger to watch the dogs fight over the carcass. Man on the next window kept an eye on the empty branch. It was his turn.       

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The System

He clenched the steering and shook his legs in irritation as vehicles squeezed into every available space in front of him at the red signal. The overcrowded bus spew dark smoke through its rusted exhaust as the passengers clung to whatever they could as if stuck to giant magnet. Two wheeler rider stuff handkerchief through helmet so as to not inhale the poison. The woman dangled the baby on one hand as she clutched the man. The baby with watery eyes and festering wounds on its legs try to catch the floating soot from the fire burning in the roadside dump. He was repulsed. He jabbed the radio and tuned in. It was loud. A screaming man was trying to create excitement through his voice, he screeched “We are today celebrating our lyricist. He gave us so much without taking back anything in return. What a true artist”. A woman joined in with high pitch giggle “we are blessed with so much talent. Mind blowing”. The man repeated after her “blowing blowing” in a fading tone and hit a drum. They chuckled. “So listeners lets listen to one of his gems. Don’t forget we are the only radio station that truly care about our icons, and and and don’t forget our sponsors”. As abruptly a loud song shot out “Yaar masti me gaa taal uchi laga” the man and woman joined emphasizing “taal uchi laga” He hit the drum “gulgule hai bade gulgule…”  The song continued. The only intention seems to be to create as much noise as possible so as to not loose the audience. He felt disgusted that people are even paid for such assault on language. He switched it off. There was chill in the air that swept from the northern mountain. The song was still reverberating in his mind. He thought about it. Maybe that is what this was all about to barge into thoughts of undiscerning audience. Once it got into the mind they can be manipulated. He was appreciative of the effort. He need to learn the subtleties of working into minds of mindless consumers, he reminded himself, even if these were loud uncouths with appalling sense for music. Just before the signal turned green vehicles began to get restive they sneer and hiss, each one was yelling to the one in front while some threatened with power horns. They didn’t cross the white line. Aware of the wide eyed cctv dangling up above the street that snapped as also recognized the faces. Punishment was swift. As the signal turned green like a clog that ruptured the traffic oozed out then it burst. He pressed the accelerator. The SUV surged ahead of other vehicles. He liked it when he overtake. It gave him a sense of achievement and fuelled his purpose in life. It was a moment of clarity. An essential meaning that very few understood. He deserved to be ahead. He took a sharp turn. The security personnel made an attempt to smile as he stood up. The SUV vanished into the basement of the multistoried dark glassed cuboid. You could see from outside that some cubicles were lit with computer screens. Silhouettes of employees could be seen moving inside. On the top corner of the cuboid was a huge cut out of carbonated soda bottle. Dance of light gave the impression of bubbles inside the soda even in the broad day light. During night it could be seen from kilometers away. So much so that it has become a major landmark in the city. Youngsters took pride in taking selfies from different part of the city with the giant bottle in the background. They posted these in social media which was vigorously commented upon and appreciated. Some sites even had forums where people posted their emotional attachment with the city and how the giant bottle was always a constant presence in their experiences. These comments and pictures evoked nostalgia among expatriates. Some even commented that the sight of giant bottle was what reminded them how much they loved the city. 

        

“Good morning Sam. Ready for the presentation?” the senior manager peered from his cubicle as he passed. “Sure Deep” he smiled and waved back. Inside the cuboid he was called Sam. Everybody had two syllable name. It saved time. He swiftly paced to his cubicle. He surveyed the scene before he settled down as he placed his laptop and lunch box. Array of cubicles stretched before him from all sides. If you happen to look from the top it gave the impression of puzzle maze. Sam was like an insect which negotiated these maze every day. The maze had its own mind that kept changing every few days. So you are never too sure. What was an exit becomes a trap while the next day the trap becomes an easy exit. It kept the employees guessing. The only surety, the constant, was each employee’s commitment to the goals of the system. Nothing else was certain.    

It was last Friday of the month. The monthly meeting was to start in an hour. Unlike daily meetings today all the senior managers will be present. Sam was to do the monthly sales presentation of all the region in the country. He was tensed. The figures were dipping in southern region. He called up the regional branch to reconfirm the figures. The regional branch manager in turn called up the subsidiaries and rechecked the figures. The trends were negative. Sam slanted on his chair and observed the tastefully done Rorschach like pattern on the ceiling. He cared for the moment. He need to be present in the moment. “Live the moment” he was told. He liked it. It was simple and profound. He reminded himself of what his father said “The fact that you are getting so much salary is the clear indication that you are blessed. There is no other validation needed. You look at the millions and millions of miserable people in this country. They go hungry. They live in dirt. The reason you are chosen, you are blessed, is because we are blessed. It’s in our blood. It is not accident. It is all fated. We are entitled. Now you have to take responsibility of the miserable. You are their savior. You have to control them and guide them. It is your duty. Understand your place. Realize”. He clenched his fist. Yes I can handle this. He walked into the meeting energized with a thought of his entitlement that he owes to no one.

The board room, which was more of a hall, was already full when he entered to find his place. “Hi Sam” “Hi Sher” “Hello Sal” “Hello Dil”. They shook hands, as they settled down somewhere in the middle of the rows. You shook his hand and realize the cold purposeful grip has send chill through the bone. His smile spread the warmth in awkward way as his gaze fixed like that of dead fish. The vacant gaze ripped open the window to let in icy wind that freeze your sense. It moved from you to the next person without any acknowledgement. It was as if it has habituated to detach from the scene. You are left mystified and frightened by the possibility of malevolence it held. These thoughts were however held back by the ordinariness of his presence. A faceless earnest manager at the cuboid apprehensive about the sales graph. He fit in excellently to the scene. He was so unobtrusive that he was admired for it as if he was predisposed to become this. Colleagues who admired him also knew that they too were predisposed to become him –the unassuming honest hardworking manager putting in everything for the system. It was an achievement to hasten this into perfection. 

Everyone wore identical black suits with wide peak lapel and chocolate brown shirt. They were jovial and moved around energetically in confident gait. Some stood around in small groups. Their discussion had no depth or content, and that wasn’t a concern at all. These were about who said to whom what, which were necessarily meant to seek allegiance and cement relations. It was the defining dynamics of competence in a system: The small talks. There was nothing really to discuss when you are sure about what the system needed. You just work for the system. Only juvenile premise, pubescent thoughts and adolescent ambitions could understand the needs of system. It was necessary that we become pure souls to understand system better.

The senior managers occupied the front rows while the middle level the middle row, and the junior the last rows. The screens on the wall connected the regional centers. Each center was likewise arranged with employees wearing same type of attire and arranged in similar manner so that they looked like reflections, as if in an infinite extension. The rows established the seniority within the levels too. So you could tell who was doing better or was favored by the top management. Moving to the front row was how achievement tabulated. Since relations were temporary it introduced new set of equals. There were thirty rows and each row took on an average about a year to reach. Some took more than a year while others covered it in few months depending on their competence that was deeply meaningful in the system. Each milestone was celebrated by family and friends. They thanked the system profusely for their good fortune on such occasions. Some had deity as representing the system while others were deityless. To get the “senior” tag was the only plausible reason for existence. It was a definite milestone in their life on which they anchored all their ambitions. It assured status and respectability, and semblance of meaning. The first row had only two chairs. One of them, the senior-most manager stood up and took the small elevated podium. He got into the matter without much ado “Hello everyone. This is a weekly meeting but since this is month end it’s also the monthly round up”.  He took a deep breath and informed “Today we will also launch our new campaign”. This was met with enthusiastic applause. He sat down. A lady referred to as “Prab” –the HR manager took the mike to update the individual achievements of the month. Names were called and acknowledged.  Finally it was time for Sam to present his report. He could feel his heart beat and palms sweat. There were speculation about the bad performance of the soft drink giant in the media. His report was much anticipated. The big screen brightened with his slides. He skipped the initial mandatory slides to reach the data. The north region showed impressive growth while the west and east were catching up. Central region had some hiccups but it was manageable. The south region slide was met with a gasp. The negative trends were unbelievable. There was a tense silence in the room. The senior most manager cleared his throat “We need to discuss”. As if on a cue the first few rows rotated their chairs so that senior managers faced the others. “Ok so what are the reasons?” Sam was ready with the slide that flashed all across the hall. It showed pictures of protest by local population against exploitation of ground water by the cuboid. What the local population didn’t know, and indeed could never know, was that cuboid was only a minor extension of the system which had much longer tentacles. They were on hunger strike, this was tacitly supported by large sections across the region. Meanwhile the anarchist activists from different part of the world had started to take it up to instigate a movement against the system. The online forums were growing in numbers. Very soon they extended the issue of ground water exploitation as system’s strategy to exploit and deny poor people their basic needs, so as to alienate and eliminate them. Examples of different incidents and criminal acts of intimidation by the system were accumulating from across the region, and consolidating resentment against the system in the public space. Some even pointed that the system was not only against local population but against humanity too. The sweetened carbonated soda didn’t carry any nutrition, it was empty calories, and it was compromising the health of large population. It was reducing the immunity of children at very young age. It compromised the health of society and reduced life expectancy. Since this region was more literate than other part of the country they could understand these better. They had developed their critical thinking faculties.   

Sam had merged these allegation into the slides with appropriate picture, and supporting videos too. As he neared the last slide, he paused, cleared his throat and said “This bunch of misguided miserable people are an assault on our revered system” and spoke briefly about the value of the system and their role in it. Most of his statements were cliché’s and quotes that were wrongly worded or attributed. It seems he was quoting what seem appropriate to the context from what he was taught or tutored, or else it was meant to please the system. He covered his lack of substance with melodramatic gestures and emotional appeal. Finally he raised his fist “We must deal with them. We must fight with them on every street corner. And we will”. There was instant applause. It was deafening. Managers stood on their feet. It was an emotional moment. It was show of strength. A resolve to be united against any threat. Sam was pleased with his performance. He expertised in converting any matter or happening into event that asserted the omnipotence of the system. It was meant to awestruck the audience and realize the grand nature of system that they were fortunate to be part of. Words were used as glitters intended to mesmerize the mind. He was immensely satisfied that he was able to put on a show as a resolute member of the system. He had a duty to perform, and with this presentation he was assured that he had positioned himself as a frontline soldier of system’s righteousness. He was warrior he knew it. It was in his blood. He didn’t want to take the limelight. He humbly submitted himself to the  higher call for the system. He maybe a cog in the cuboid but was ready to defend the system when the need arise. Unlike the teeming millions who clog the streets, dirty the city and protest at every nook and corner to hide their incompetence and laziness he was blessed. This was the time to show it. The senior manager patted him as the applause died and turned to the enthusiastic gathering while pointing to Sam “The system will thrive because of fighters like you Sam. You are a blessing to the system”. As Sam took his seat he was immensely satisfied that he was being acknowledged. There was no escaping from reality. He will be shifting to the front row in few days, he knew it. It was fated. He looked patronizingly at his competitors. Some of them returned his brilliantly shining feline gaze. They knew his thoughts. They were alert and intensely attuned to immediate threat. Like foragers they use instinctive strategies to search and optimize data, and moved from one data patch to another. Like the cave men sniffing the air, alert on snapping twigs, they discern patterns of threat and were vigilant for any aberrations, any transgression of norms. They were incapacitated to perceive anything beyond present. So if you talk to them about climate they mistake it for weather. If you tell them about extinction of species they will think it’s a conspiracy by aliens. Incapacitated to comprehend complexities they seek simplistic binaries.  

The senior manager meanwhile shifted to a serious tone as he addressed the falling sales graph. “This is a threat on the system. It’s the failure of education that instead of seeking harmony it is producing people who are questioning the system and seek to create chaos. What is happening to the world?” He asked and continued without a pause. “Education has taught us to obey and seek solace in loyalty. We are so fortunate that we are conditioned to obey orders. We don’t ask questions. We are never confused about our faithfulness to the system. We need to really deal with these people once and for all”. Sam nodded in enthusiastic support as did others. The senior manager acquired rather grievous tone “We are here to promote peace and prosperity. We stand for equal right and opportunity. We are strongly with those fighting for human rights and liberty. We want to fight poverty and make the world a better place. We want to help people reach their potential and contribute to the system. That is all we want. We are part of the solution”. Every member of the system was moved by the speech. Sam knew what he was talking about. He was proud alumni of best schools in the country. They knew how to inculcate discipline and sense of duty for the system. Classes were always conducted in strict orderly manner, questions in exams were never asked from outside the syllabus and it took special care to evaluate their memory and their capacity to recall. There were pattern for answers that pleased the examiner. Those who followed these were awarded maximum scores. They produced perfect people who added value to the society. They were courteous and humble. He was trained quite early in life to follow orders without hesitation. No thoughts that were dangerous to the system ever entered his mind, on the contrary he became vigilant to any such thoughts not only in him but also in his surroundings. He was duly appreciated and paid by the system. His defining state of mind on any occasion was gratefulness. Gratefulness to the almighty that runs the system. Sometimes he was so overwhelmed by the power and grandeur the system that he would utter “Peace be with the almighty. The creator and destroyer of the system”.

 The senior manager pointed to the legal team. A woman in short hair stood up and declared “These people are doing an illegal act. It is against the law. There are different provision of the law that safeguards the system against such transgressions. We will easily win the case and we will seek compensation”.

Senior manager nodded “That would be appropriate. They need to understand that the system exist for the benefit of the people. If they have the patience it will trickled down to them. The problem is that these people don’t have patience. They are so lazy that they want everything now and free”.

The audience laughed. Sam joined in complete agreement like everyone else. He just couldn’t understand why some people don’t want good life. Why don’t they understand that the system was here to provide good life? He shrugged in bewilderment. Next few minutes the senior manager tried to motivate the audience that span the country. Later many other managers spoke about their experience with the system and indebtedness to the system. Some even began their sentence by fawning to the system “Peace and harmony be with the system” while others elevated it to mysterious forces that need to be kept satiated by our constant effort and vigil.

During the break informal links were sought to be strengthened though extreme care was taken that it never undermine the hierarchy. They were informal but they must show deep deference to the structure. The structure defined the system so any insubordination of the structure was an affront on the system. Informal talks were meant to bind them to sustain and strengthen the system. They spoke about families and holiday plans, and quietly listened to others once they were done. They spoke and listened, and felt a deep connection towards the system that they were grateful to. Though they were colleagues for years they knew each other only superficially. They knew likes and dislikes of each other and negotiated their work carefully sidestepping these personal quirks. On jovial occasion they made fun of it while on other instances found some meaning to it. They were not meant to be friends. Even if they pretend that they were they also were acutely aware of their competitive status for the front rows. Though they had complete allegiance to the system and were compliant to all its orders they didn’t trust each other. There was always an eerie veil between them which they were too scare to probe or even consider. His colleague had an idea of Sam but they were never able to pinpoint him. Like them he too was an abstraction of the moment without any lasting impact. He gave the impression of illusionary aspect of life. He reflected the cheerfulness of the occasion and concerns of a bad sale data. That seem to be the extreme of emotion he displayed. In short he was, like his colleagues, a nice person who cared for his team, and was a value addition to the cuboid and an asset to the system. They were shallow. They were superficial. They though weren’t stupid but they were simply never there. Completely adrift in the blissful realization of the system that they were incapable to hold on to any truth. The system persistently created bottom-up stimuli to keep their attention firmly on immediate, the present. HR managers regularly congregated to conceive new ways and tempting agendas to keep the herd active. Miming leaders, actors and such entertainments like throwing water balloons while on one foot, these were fun filled activities to inculcate values of multitasking, light quizzes on movies and cricket assured them that limited knowledge on superficial things are quite enough to have a good successful life. Meanwhile awards were distributed for their adherence to the system, the incentive response encouraged them to improve further. These informal get-togethers were also meant to inculcate camaraderie as a nomadic herd, it made each competing member understand other better as also was a reiteration of their complete dependence on the system. It helped to consolidate brain circuit that seek immediate reward. A sense of wellbeing was triggered when these brain circuits were activated, these then merged into the system.   

After tea and snacks they were back. Prab, the HR manager, was on the stage again. She said “Before we get into the proceedings I need to announce the “Honest employee of the month”. A junior manager named Abhi was the winner. He stood up humbly to receive thundering applause and some whistling. “Abhi reflects all the values we stand for. He is the true representative of the system and a pride of our cuboid” said the senior manager as he joined the applause. He added “Honesty is the best policy. System thrives with honest people. We will check his past performance and see if we can recommend him a row promotion.”

Every act was measured, evaluated and justified in context to the system. There was nothing good or bad, ethical or unethical. There was no conscience. Since there was no conscience there was no question of prejudices or complexities. Lacking any references they considered themselves evolved and brilliant. The system too reciprocated by fulfilling all their needs and wants. They were happy and satisfied with life. They were duly recognized as successful people by the society. Since they were successful their opinion mattered. Their opinions were confirmation of their immense gratitude to the system. Some of them became emotional and even cried when they described their “moment” with the system, when they realized “true meaning of life”.  This then worked to consolidate the system for those in the audience who were in doubt. “Obviously he knows a thing or two about life. He has so much money. He is blessed. It’s our good fortune to listen to him” while some mused “By following her we could replicate her success and meaning of life”. They became source for inspiration and constant reference for youngsters. Their personal life mattered too it made them immediate and achievable, if only we follow them. A better life was already demarcated and was attainable for everyone who is ready to put in more effort.   

System evaluated individuals as threat. Individuals possess complex depth that was dangerous.  They were to be kept busy. Being in a team and a member of the group was the pinnacle of attributes, these then were elevated into peaceful community which then worked on nation building. They shared their feelings and encouraged each other. There was never any doubt. There was never any uncertainty. This therefore made individuals happy. They were optimistic. They viewed their fate as the fate of the group and not of themselves. Many therefore were ready to die for the system. These suicidal people were essential templates for brave warriors that helped the system to perpetuate with their sacrifice. Though they were fearless they were mortally afraid of loosing approval of the system. They were eternally reliant on the system. It was the sole banister of their life without which they couldn’t even stand up. It was as much their backbone. Their beliefs, values and meanings were derived from the system. It nurtured and regulated their fallible drives. Life was meaningless without the system. It was the organizing idea that drove them into a never ending cycle of fortune. It was their master plan that blessed them from time immemorial. It was their meaning to life. They had no doubts about anything. They were the perfect productive human beings. System was the harmonious totality that was ever to be achieved. It was a miracle. 

The senior manager cleared his throat and reminded the audience about the new ad campaign. The ad manager, who was referred to as ‘Jog’ briskly entered the scene. Jog was matter of fact and to the point. He was acutely aware of the needs and demands of the system. The soft drink was to represent all the goodness and promise of the system. Without any wasting of time he proceeded to play the video. All the employees knew what to expect. System provided general framework, and articulated itself as benign guide. It gently suggested itself as the only viable option and solution to all the problems. They were coopted and adapted to the system in its little steps as they grew. All the splendors of the world and daily miracles didn’t attract their attention unless ofcourse it could be factored in and understood through the system or is monetized for its benefits. Everything else was waste of time indeed against common sense. The male model for the product was a muscular fellow with an effeminate face and gestures. He had a huge fan following in social media, and was quite suited for the oedipal afflicted society. The female model wasn’t famous, nor she need to be, it was easily compensated by her large breasts. She held the bubbling soft drink bottle in a phallic grip with her lips pouting. It evoked immediate desire to possess the product. They discussed various angles of the shot, and optimal placement of product. Impressionable youth were easy target. Young minds are fertile searching for essences to associate its primal drives into experiences. These experiences were encouraged but inquiries into contradictory meanings, hypocrisies and glaring lacunas were dealt without questioning the futility of the system. Knowledge was sought to understand the system which was then used to gain from the system, to make a living and buy luxuries. More system was justified more the participants stand to gain.

Impulses, the archaic remnants of evolutionary drives, sometimes startled with questions like “Why do we have to follow this nonsense?” or “Cannot we work something better?” These needed depth of thinking hence were agreed upon as waste of time and had the potential for turmoil that threatened the order and harmony which was a criminal act. The attempt was always to harmonize these impulses and drives into the need of the system. Or else the individual was ask to spend more time to understand the system better. The system was benign and all knowing. It was also ready to forgive.  They discussed as to how effectively portray product as representing the values of the system. Since the male model had branded himself as favorite son of the system through positioning himself in patriotic events, had pictured himself paying obeisance in popular religious systems and had well quoted views on need to be always in service of the system therefore by associating him with the product meant that we stand for the same patriotic zeal for the system, Jog assured. He knew his job, and was proud for his contribution to the system.

Stripped of any instinct of decency that was ingrained as being part of millions of years of evolution as members of civilized society they were not even aware that they were committing any crime by denying the poor their basic access to life or that there is any gross violation of collective conscience by exploiting the natural resource for products that were essentially harmful. The system had assured them that their reptilian brain was most opportunely suited for handling the situation. Thinking was dangerous. Thinking therefore was removed from every aspect of work. Thinking was unproductive as it made the mind wander and encounter difficult questions. It was explained that all these difficult questions were already answered by the almighty who created the system. The miracle book contained all the answers in simple language with clear instructions. There was never any doubt. So why think? Have faith. Feel. Feel the system. 

There was an inner void in each one of them that held no malice or madness against anyone. They could never think of harming anyone. They had nothing against common people nor anyone protesting against them. They have their rights, so do we. But we shouldn’t forget our fate. We have to work for the system. In this struggle of greater good of the system somebody will have to pay the price. They never had any insatiable urge to kill anyone but for the higher calling of the system they were ready to kill and die as martyr. This was not seen as a radical act nor atrocious but just the need of the hour. There was nothing nuanced about it. Nuance complicate things. It wasted time and energy that could be channelized for the enhancing the system. System had erased their capacity to be humans. But they were pleasant people with families who enjoyed simple things in life like playing computer games with their children or going for walks in gardens and exchanging pleasantries with others. Questions like who controls the system, what is it doing to us, shouldn’t we resist and reclaim our humanity back were never asked. It is not that questions were discouraged, it is just that these never came into their mind. They were too habituated and seemingly trapped that even though sometimes in the moments of clarity they sensed the futility of it they suppressed it with easily available entertainment which instantly snuffed any doubt as also made them feel exhilarated and invigorated as proud participant in the system.

They were all human beings. They look like human beings. They could talk, hear, talk back, and smile like human being but something was horribly wrong with them. Their emotion could register only extremes, either it was immense gratitude or intense revulsion. This binary defined their behavior and created template for their interactions. Order Follow. Right Wrong. Profit Loss. National Anti-national. Kill Not kill. Us Them. These made life easy and help focus on what really mattered. This was what system preferred. Extremities brought clarity and removed confusion. Subtleties created doubt. It forced them to think. Which was indeed waste of time. System knew what was there to be known. Truth was already revealed. They had to simply work for the system to make their life better. This is what systems of education taught them. It is what systems of religion ingrained in them. This is what systems of entertainment suggested to them. This is what society appreciated in them. They had to believe in supreme order of the system. They had to conform to the higher forces. Faith. Money. Power.  

They gave the impression of illusionary aspect of life. You know the meditative thought? A stray moment of insight, which afflicts some eager souls, as they negotiate the vagaries of life. A spark that asserts the presence of sentient individual in a human. That has capacity to spread wildfires of proclamation of humanity. They represented that brief glimpse but in its utter neglect of any conviction or even fixed thoughts. Their mind was suited to what served the purpose of the moment. Then set to stitch the logic around it. This is where years of discipline in education was a help and a guide.

By late evening Sam was back in his apartment, located in the luxurious part of the city it was a prime property worth a fortune. He was immensely satisfied with his achievement so were everyone else who knew him. They say that he is blessed. He humbly attributed it to the benevolence of the system. His children were busy with their digital gadgets. Their faces glow in blue as they dully scroll the screen. His wife was watching TV, she purposelessly surfed the channels as he sat down to take off his shoes. Public intellectuals in colorful cloths discuss issue for the day. While they differ on everything that was being said they made it sure among themselves that they agree upon the need to protect the system. “Whatever may be the case the system is supreme” “…maybe but you cannot speak against the system. That is not acceptable” “….yes yes you are right but system cannot be compromised in any way” “It is our sacred duty to inculcate and nurture the values of system to our youngsters” they said these lines as final contribution to the discussion. While on another channel businessmen vouched that their profit was meant to help and perpetuate the system. Artists created various conceptions of entertainment to ingrain values of system through stories that had protagonists fighting all the odds to emerge victorious to celebrate and thank the system. Social activists came together to pay tribute to the mahatma of the system and vowed to follow his path to bring glory to the system. She stuck to one channel. The anchor of the show sneered into the camera and shouted in dismay “What should we do with these people? I mean seriously what should be done with them?” He was exasperated. The panel for the discussion flashed on the screen in small grids. It was as if they sat in their comfortable home occasionally opened their virtual window to shout and abuse at the unsuspecting passerby. They yelled simultaneously. The cacophony of gesticulating haranguing bunch made the show riveting. It promised to explode any moment, they would get up and thrash each other or break the furniture. But they did not. This very fact kept the audience fascinated. In the melee the loudest was heard. “These people have spoiled the city. They come from outside, dirty our place and spread the disease. There must be some solution to this”. While a woman in bright color outfit with high pitch voice argued that it was the population “They reproduce like pigs. They are threat to our resources. They take more than they give. These people are parasites. They are the virus that is infecting our system”. On the screen collage of poor and impoverished humans in various images of deprivation and disease floated portending ominous future for the audience. Meanwhile the anchor pitched in to remind the panelists that they have to be civilized in their interaction “This is a national TV”. 

Late into night Sam tossed on his bed. He had a nightmare that he was banished from the system. He couldn’t tolerate the meaninglessness of it. He sat down vacant and confused. He stumbled his way through the dark and reached for the icy water bottle in the fridge. He saw his shadow go larger against the wall. The leftover fruit jelly pudding wobbled in shiny red like a lump of clotted blood. He observed it till his eyes hurt. He couldn’t sleep that night. The very thought that a system that had given him everything to look forward to, a system that was benign and all caring was being threatened kept him restless. What will be the world be without faith in an all-knowing all-forgiving system? He couldn’t think of any sane productive life in the world without the system. It was the most efficient way of living. It removed all confusion. Faith assured return on every effort that was made. It was a sacred deal with almighty. He closed his eyes. He heard voices of managers, of TV anchors, of entertainers “They spread like virus” “They have spoiled our city” “What is wrong with these people?” “Lazy and useless”. He saw himself trapped and surrounded in a surging crowd that was menacingly howling into his ears “Save the system”.

Next day late into the afternoon he drove slowly into the sparsely populated outskirt of the city where the construction work were in progress. The city was expanding fast and he was proud that his contribution to the system was helping this growth. The system of economy was run with money, faith and wishful thinking. He embodied the animal spirit that sought efficiency and productivity. He was selfish for the system. His selfishness helps the system to find its best motive.  

An unassuming man walked on the pavement. Sam slowed his vehicle, lowered the side window and addressed to the man in heavily accented local language “I can drop you”. The man was startled and took some moment to gather himself. He was the intimidated by the menacingly neat colored SUV. He gathered all his politeness and refused the offer “No thank you I will walk”. Sam was taken aback by the politeness. It was least expected. Where do these people learn politeness from? He smiled. “No it’s all right I am going that way. I will drop you”. He opened the front door to let him in. Sudden gush of cool air in the sultry heat was inviting. The man gawked at the posh interior of the vehicle. He had never sat on one. He was ambivalent. All his street instincts were warning him against. He was extremely tired of the day’s work. He must have carried not less than few thousand bricks today. His body ached. He really couldn’t resist the offer. Afterall it’s only ten km, it was getting dark, he will reach home early and will be able to sleep more today, he really needed to sleep. He convinced himself.

The man carried the stench that wafted in all the ugliness of the city, all the problems of the city. It was the smell of the outsiders, and it was spreading into every nook and corner of his beloved city, his home. It was the smell that enveloped everything outside the confines of air-conditioned cubicles, cars and homes. It was the smell of the poverty, of disease, of desperation. It was the smell that evoked pandemic. Sam had experienced the stench when he occasionally lower the window while driving, the sudden gush of street carried the unmistakable disgusting odor of sweat, fume and dust mixed into repulsive nauseating concoction. He avoided filthy surrounding and mostly did all the shopping online or at the sanitized malls. But this human stench made him deeply insecure and frightened as if an ominous apparition in the dark is about to appear and swallow his perfect world. It portent everything sinister that he was aware of. It brought all the miseries he could think of.

The man was looking out at the passing scene. He was riveted to the occasional sights of crowd, maybe he sensed opportunity. He sat erect so as to not incline his body on the seat. He wanted to occupy least space. It was as if he wished he was invisible. So that he was left alone without being violated. With his humanity intact. That is the least he expected from the city. Sam casually studied the thin short taut man in modest attire. The rubber outsoles of his dirty slippers were flayed and worn out. The nails of his filthy toes were covered in work site mud. Against the creamy luxury of ultrasuede interior he was a gross presence, a violation. He didn’t dislike him personally but his presence was defiling. It went against every need of the system. The man was given the freedom to participate in the system. But he refused and choose to exist in the fringes. He is a failure. Failure is a blemish. It weakens the system. He is an infection on the system. He is a burden. He can only redeem himself through sacrifice. Bad genes will have to go. Weaklings will have to be culled from the herd.      

 The man’s phone rang. The cracked screen lit in blurry lines. He was confused as to whether to take it or not. He was intimidated by the sudden luxury that accosted. He knew he was easily evaluated and relegated. He felt suffocated. It rang again he picked it up and in an attempt to hide his voice he covered his mouth and whispered “I am on the way. I will be home very soon”. His language was heavily accented and indicated of poorest region of the country. It sounded strange since he was attempting to hide it. It was futile. Sam was smart, he could sniff people out of their deepest burrow and effortlessly placed them to where they belong and evaluate their value. It is for a reason that he is paid a ransom by the system. System was self-perpetuating but reasonable. It treated you well if you synergized with it and help it to grow. Any threat was severely dealt. Sam took it as his life’s mission to identify and dilute the threat. He was experienced enough to place an idea, a thought or a man on the scale of impending threat the moment it came into his notice. When praised for his intelligence and amazing level of competence he was always humble and attributed these to system’s blessing. He also thanked high level of system’s culture that was foundation of his family. He was particularly indebted to his parents for inheriting this hallowed tradition and passing it down to him. All the followers of the system were instinctively aware of this deep connection and were extremely emotional about it.  

Sam considered himself as a nice man, infact he knew he was nice. He was always on the verge of tears when he saw sights like stray puppy whimpering in the street of hunger and neglect particularly during rainy days. The sight of these god’s creation wet and abandoned to die filled him with intense sense of remorse. He would stop his vehicle, and even risking getting wet and all sorts of infections lurking in dirty street, he would pluck the hapless creature and put it in safe shade. He would drop some biscuits to the grateful puppy that he always carried anticipating such situation. He had some blemishes but then who doesn’t? These doesn’t make him a bad man. He can always atone for this sins. He can always purify himself and get back to his true self. System was always ready to forgive transgression for the sake of its preservation. He had a responsibility towards the system, towards the almighty. He had the historic sense of his calling. He had to set things right. There was too much imbalance. The beauty of god’s creation need to be restored. It was his duty. He shouldn’t be bothered about the result but must focus on his duty. He had a responsibility. He assumed himself as an immediate force of morality against rising immorality. He was descendant of the sun, the fireball of life. He had to vanquish the Satan, the devil, the doubts. He is the faithful. He is the solution. This was his calling. His path to heaven as revealed by the miracle book. Where all goodness exist. Where evil is banished. The system at its very purity. The almighty.       

He felt a sudden surge of energy through his body. Blood throbbed in his arteries. He sensed a metallic taste in his dry mouth. He fancied himself as fierce multi-limbed goddess riding a ferocious tiger spearing the devil. He was the warrior for the righteous. He was the instrument of the god to punish. He took this tongue out and flicked it. His eyes brightened. He was a pure soul. The gibbous moon sprayed its faint silvery rays on the serpentine path that led through the thick forested ghats. It was rarely frequented. He dimmed the headlights, and tightened the grip on the sledgehammer. The nightjar call pulsated the horror of the dark.   

Specie zero

The probability that I am alive depends upon whether I am noticed. This act of observation makes reality fundamentally different than everything else in the universe. Even the universe doesn’t know what is real until someone observes. Observation makes life distinguish itself from inanimate. It is late noon in the seething Indian summer of the malabar coast, the steely sky is merciless without any clouds. The humid stillness is accentuated by the harsh calls of rufous treepie perched on the bright yellow cascade of cassia. A long deep snort of snowy crystal meth crease stew the brain. Intuition thinking is woefully limited to take the abstraction of life’s challenges. It’s a myth spread by well-meaning doctors that dopamine can cause insignificant things to take to an unwarranted significance. On the contrary it is the significance of insignificant that really matters. In this realm hallucination is awakening from the mundane. It is questioning the reality as we know it. I am looking at myself. I am made up of atoms. 65% of me is Oxygen. 18.5% Carbon. 9.5%Hydrogen. 3.2%Nitrogen. 1.5%Calicum. 1%Phosphorus. 19more essential elements found in traces tangle with these star dust into molecules to give me life at this particular coordinates in spacetime. Scattered light from the sun lit the electrical impulse through dendrites that fuel the most complex structure in the universe the brain. I am appropriation of spinning particles on a spinning planet that is spinning around a star in a spinning galaxy in an ever expanding cosmos. The dopamine hit the highest note. It better, I had paid a ransom. Unlike cocaine it has a longer rush and highest high. I observe myself get up from the cot, open the door, and the probability wave collapse to pinpoint me on the middle of the street and the coffee shop. I am at two places. Our intuitions have evolved in the classical world. What is the cause and what is the effect is difficult to know when it is dependent on observer’s viewpoint. I immediately accept this as the new normal. I embrace multiple possibilities. I can see myself here and there. Me and anti-Me.

Me: The streets are empty. It seems a higher intelligence was guiding the course of action. People only went out when there was any need otherwise they spent much of their time to improve themselves. They avoided unnecessary crowds in street corners and small talks in the shops. They read thought provoking ideas, watch caring shows and generally were considerate to each other. They used resources with much care. Mostly they sat in the balcony silently watching the passing birds, listening to the breeze caressing the fronds and occasionally dropping crumbs to howling stray dogs. The streets had more animals than humans. Street dogs, feral cats, abandoned cows, donkeys, squirrels, monkeys so on congregated and moved around in leisure while humans gave wide space to these as if resigned to their fate or else they were waiting for a calamity which they sense was just about to strike. On the outskirts of the city wild elephants, leopards and tigers had taken back much of the encroached habitat. Humans here have locked themselves in apartments and housing colonies barricading themselves against the wild. Groceries were distributed once in a month through the agency as people hid behind masks and gloves. All that humans had subjugated and destroyed was freeing itself and rejuvenating. The air was much fresher, water sparkling in its flow and earth calmer. 

I observe Me working his way through the empty streets in amazement. There at the city junction which used to teem with humans few days back had a recently constructed shelter. It was more of a cyclopean primitive structure that seem like haphazardly conceived. Me peered in. It took him few moments to adjust his mote filled eyes to the darkness. Inside there was something that didn’t look like a human but was dressed like one in jungle boots. It was rotund with many eyes and hands like many limbed giant football on two legs. It looked at Me in amusement. No human ever ventured to be near it.

“Hello why don’t you come in” it said, waving all its hands in a gesture of invitation.

“Sure, why not” Me was already inside the squalid makeshift dwelling.

“Haven’t seen you before? Are you a mutant? An alien…maybe” Me let it be tentative. He had good sense to realize what may hurt someone’s sensibilities that too when one wasn’t sure what it is, importantly, what kind of reaction was anticipated.  

“Strange that you don’t know about us” It held an amused expression as if it is what defined its existence. “We are virus. We have taken over the city. This city is now in our control” It relished to Me “We intend to dominate the planet”.

“No wonder humans have suddenly acquired objective sense about themselves and their vulnerabilities. I was wondering…” Me mused loudly.

“That is not our concern” It was pleased to elaborate. Me noticed it had winsome personality and could latch on to anyone with minimal effort. “But yes if you find better selves it may be good for you. But I doubt it. Humans are too self-obsessed in their fictions to have any sense of reality. You lost the evolutionary game when you shifted from hunter gatherers to agriculture. Some of you did develop your intellect and helped the progress of sapiens but individually and physically most of you are weak”. 

“But collectively we are strong” Me asserted.

“That is surely what we want. For you to be together. We spread well in crowd”. It smiled. “Your strength is your weakness”. Me didn’t like the tone of the virus. It was menacing and mocking.    

“Also, you never really had any sense of collective. With all kinds of divisions from nations to religions to what not you were already doomed. You survive on fantastic fictions. We viruses are always viruses. There is no mistake in our identity. Humans know that too very well. There is no confusion here”. It smiled and all its eyes rolled over. It raised its suction pad like hands for Me to clasp, to share the delight and spread itself. Me didn’t move. It was disappointed but didn’t show and continued “Fiction will fix you anyway. If pandemic doesn’t climate change will deal with you. You are too many and with all fancy notions of omnipotence. A burden on the planet. You really cannot handle the reality. You are incapacitated to sense. Fiction will fix you. We know your weakness” It snarled “Mark my word fiction will fix you”. And with that it sneezed and self-destruct into pieces like a radicalized suicide bomber in a crowd. Smaller versions of it slithered out from splattered mucous and moved towards Me to infect. Me ran.  

Anti-me: The coffee shop wasn’t a coffee shop. It was some kind of religious site. Anti-me found himself in the midst of people in fancy dress. They wore long rug in yellow and saffron. They jostled to pray and bow towards mysterious garlanded monoliths without any shape or contour that were arranged in semi-circle. A woman held a lighted lamp and oscillated a metal bell to create earth shattering noise. Meanwhile few hung around in the sidelines praising the whole scene, writing commentary and recording for posterity. The virus was on prowl and these were fertile hunting grounds. An elderly man with grimy thread around his belly gyrated on the stage, some called him prophet while others son of the god. He is son of a virgin hence a pure soul, they said. “Lord is our savior” he said “There is nothing virus can do to us”. He raised his voice while his body trembled in frenzy, others echoed him “We are all protected by the ring of faith. We cover ourself with the blood of lord. Faith in our lord give us the immunity. We must hug each other and thank the lord. It will kill the satan”. They hug and they kissed, and spread the word of the god. In between they did some orchestrated acts meant to show reverence to their creator. They arranged in rows and did their scripted moves as if remote controlled by an imaginary leash. Some moved around dressed as post boxes to remind nuances of modesty to lecherous among them. It was a pitiable sight but some people on the sidelines cheered these and excitedly broadcast to the world as expressions of freedom that humanity must cherish. “These people have wisdom that is beyond our understanding hence they are different from us” “They look like human being but must be some superior race” some postulated. Every insane acts was concocted into compelling stories of miracle and drilled deep into the recess of mind. They distributed miracle books which was meant to reveal the marvel of creator to the select few who followed these orchestrated moves diligently. One young fellow with unkempt beard wearing rainbow colored skull cap clutched Anti-me in a maniacal grip and shouted into his ears “Do you want to be saved?”

“No” shouted Anti-me back to no one in particular.

He pursued him despite his disinterest “My god will save you. You want protection from virus?” he didn’t wait for the reply and grabbed his shoulders “Close your eyes imagine there is no virus. Submit to god”.

“That is difficult to imagine” retorted Anti-me.

“Sure it is. That is why you need to believe. Life becomes easier if you have belief”.

“Life is easier if you face the reality”

“It helps when god is watching you. The will of god will bless you. You will be blessed”

“I don’t want to be blessed”

“Reality will kill you” he said.

“If you look away from reality anything can happen, anything justified" Anti-me was exasperated "God is a fiction. Fiction will kill you" 

“That is blasphemy” he shouted at the top of his voice. The commune froze. “Kill him” the elderly fellow with grimy thread, the son of god, yelled “We need a sacrifice or tragedy will befall on us”. They moved towards Anti-me in unison. They coalesced into a virus that grew bigger and bigger with longer tentacles. Anti-me ran.  

Me and Anti-me ran onto each other at the street corner in front of Indian coffee house. They collide. There is a blinding flash of light. They annihilate one another. I am being created from this high improbability.