Oenone

Hear me, hear me, Oh one born of fire,
You who suckled on bear's bare breast,
Ordered to die by your father's ire,
Clinged to life, an indomitable pest.

A fair judge you call yourself, hah!
You who wronged me, and all for a whore,
The golden crown, you gave Ares, bah!
Was it not just a page of a coward's lore?

Yes, coward you are, your battles unfair,
Poor Achilles, forever known for his heel;
That you shot, catching him unaware,
Robbing him of title, the warrior of steel.

Now you are injured, your suffering is mirthful,
Did you come crawling, calling me more beautiful?
Than that whore who has had men plentiful?
So that I may heal you, an existence sorrowful?

No, you send that whore to beg for your life,
She has the nerve to call herself your wife,
The pain of your love never really gets old,
But revenge is a dish best served cold.

Who lit that firework?

A single firework burst in the beginning,
Through and around us its showers shine,
From ages ago, until the end of time.

Who lit that firework, nobody knows.
Shocked He must be, just as anyone would,
If the sparks of our fireworks could speak.

Aren't we the happiest, when the black night sky,
Is peppered with sparks that shine ever so brilliantly?
What must be the purpose of our life then?

Dare I say, it must be to shine in the darkest hours,
And just as we are saddened by the fading sparks,
So must be He, at our fleeting existence.

But, however short it may be,
The smiles it brings, the memories created,
Must be etched forever in His mind.

If all we need to do is shine brilliantly,
If all we need to do is shine beautifully,
Then, does it matter who lit that firework?

Chasing the wild goose

The images of the tear soaked eyes of my mother,
the trembling raging hands of her husband smother,
have burned themselves in my head. Like a gif,
replaying the event, him lashing at her in a tiff,
with anger of origins unknown to me. My mother
kept me away from herself and him, in hopes rather
to protect me but only ending alienating even her
to me. Is it my fault? Am I the cause of the stir?

Then he goes ahead and dies a slovenly death.
Appendicitis they say, I wonder if it hurts.
I slowly say to myself, beneath my breath.

I was six but I care not shed a tear and why?
He was not my father.
Aren't fathers supposed to pick you up at school?
Make you ride on their shoulders?
Take you out to play?
Teach you how to ride a bike?
But the one who died was just a stranger. I look
around for my father I never had to rebuke.

Growing up with relatives, was I ever loved?
There was a time when I was young and fragile.
Everyone adored me, protected me - the beloved.
I wish I had stayed young and fragile.
Forever loved. But growth cannot be stopped
and those around you get aged and not agile.
You just become a burden to bear.
And none have time on you to spare.
Time may heal several wounds, but there
are those that it tears apart even further.

With every passing day, I looked more like my father.
His genes coursing through my veins, moulding me
in his image. And that's when I called him my father
I suppose. Distinct and clear visible impact on me,
the unabashed, hurtful mirrors show the truth to me,
that I cannot deny anymore. I vowed
"to be a good child, a man better than my father
I will show that my birth had meaning and purpose
I wont let God play me like a ringmaster of a circus
I wont let Him deny my existence
No. Rather, I deny His. For God does not exist.
I will fight my fate with persistence."

The ripples of time have taken me away from that day,
My accolades and achievements are shelved on display,
But I stand at the top, lonely and empty,
Having distanced everyone who ever got close to me.
I can only trust myself and none other,
I cannot even bring myself to hug my mother.
I don't know anymore what I wished to see,
nor can I imagine what I wished to be.

You see, when aims and dreams are attached to the living,
their hope and love become your strength, their sadness
your motivation and their happiness your reward. Giving
everything for the ones you love and living is a harness
that can never get worn.

But when aims and dreams are attached to the dead,
it was always about chasing the wild goose to the bed.

Divorce and Custody

Her long slender hands raised like a gun barrel,
I could see the dragon that coiled around her arms
as she thundered accusations at me with her finger
pointing; some hit some miss -

just like a beautiful blunderbuss is all I could think
as my heart bled painting the scene of my child's hand
waving goodbye; taken away by the one who shot me,
in front of the blind law.

Sweater

In the dim light, the watchful eyes follow,
as the needle swims across the fabric,
in and out, up and down, in and out, up and down,

matching the slow rhythm of the frail hands,
creating a pattern as the yarn unfolds
a snapshot of the grandchild in her mind

wearing the sweater; untired, but fazed
only by the slow ticking of the clock -
the winter could not come any slower.

Strength

Genre: Drama
Word Count: 466
Rating: Safe!

I stood there watching him. The blood dripped from his nose. His left eye was slightly swollen. His legs curled up and his hands heavily bruised as he protected his body from their kicks. He was losing. But that’s ridiculous, my brother is the strongest, he can’t lose, how could he? There is just no way.

My big brother has always been so much stronger than me. Our father has problems with his legs. Whenever at night he would come home, he would smell funny and he would have trouble standing straight. My brother told me that he had a disease called “drinking”. I feel sorry for dad, but the disease causes him to get angry at us for no reason and start beating us. My brother would come and stop him. My father is strong, his beatings would hurt but my brother is even stronger than him.

My brother is so so strong. He can go without eating for several days, but I can hardly go a day without eating. He can transfer a ton of bricks on his head from ground floor to fourth and then at night he would still have enough strength to pull a cart filled with heavy things all on his own. He could pull the cart even when I would sit on the cart, he is so much stronger.

My brother is so strong that adults come to our house to talk to him. They don’t even talk to our father. They always talk about taking things, giving money. I don’t really understand all that, but adults are talking to you, then doesn’t that mean my brother is as strong as an adult?

Then, how? How can he be beaten like this? I just scratched their car a little bit. I didn’t mean to. But they are beating my brother for it. My brother is so strong, why doesn’t he fight back? And as these thoughts swamped and swirled in my head, I found myself standing in between the two tall guys and my brother,

“Ae buddhu! Galti apun ki thi, bhai ko kyun maar rela hain? Apun se baat kar na jo bhi karna hain!” (“You idiot! It was my fault, why are you beating my brother? Talk to me, whatever it is”)
“Oye chutku, chal kat le yahan se” (“You little runt, get out of here!”)
“Apun kahin nahi jayega, jo ukhaad na hain ukhaad le” (“I am not going anywhere, do what you can”)

As the two guys walked away visibly frustrated, I turned around and looked at my brother angrily,

“Do fatka kahe ko nai diya?” (“Why didn’t you just beat them?”)
“Arre woh sambhaal nahi pate re” (“They couldn’t have handled my beating”)

Then he just smiled and messed up my hair. I knew it, he is so strong. I will grow up to be strong just like my brother.

Look Who's Talking : An Anthology

Genre: Mixed
Word Count: ~1300 words
Rating: PG13

Story 1

I am waiting for my girlfriend. She is late and I am worried out of my mind. We met a year ago at the funeral of my previous girlfriend. She has been a rock that supported me through a very tough time and I cannot stand the thought of any harm coming to her.

My previous girlfriend was such a support too. When I used to be down, she will try to cheer me up. Her gentle smile would brighten my day. Her eyes would make my heart flutter. A single kiss from her gentle lips would make any pain go away. I remember the warmth of her bosoms as she would hug me when I would get upset. I could still smell the strange intoxicating smell of her hair whenever I close my eyes. The touch of her hands would convey the gentleness in her heart. She meant everything to me, but did I meant everything to her? I wanted to find out. So, one day I disguised myself and strangled her from the back. The sound of her screaming my name for help, still deeply resonates within my heart. And I could see that even in her dying moments, all she wanted to do was to see me just once. Oh, how much I wanted to jump in front of her and show my face, but no. I wished that her last love should be me. And as she breathed her last breath, the feeling I felt was indescribable. I wondered if this is what they call - love?!

"Oh sorry, I am late, the traffic took forever to move, I am so sorry!", my girlfriend exclaimed with a slight bow, clutching her earlobes.

"Oh, its OK, I am just glad that you are alright. Waiting for you has made me realize how much I need you in my life!"

Moved by my words, she hugged me tightly. The warmth of her bosoms, the intoxicating smell of her hair - oh she means the world to me, but do I mean everything to her I wonder.

***************************************************

Story 2

The puff of smoke formed a cloud and then dispersed into nothingness. As I sat there in the smoking section of the restaurant near the glass window, I could not help but blankly stare at the cloud as it dispersed - it conveyed the state of my mind. My editor has asked me to write an article for the Op-Ed section and I am drawing blanks. I lazily peered through the glass window at the outside world like watching an uninspiring crowd of actors on television. Just then my eyes caught hold of a young girl at an intersection. As I looked at her, I don't know what got hold of me, but I took out my note and began to write:

Darkness is defined by the absence of light. And thus, the darkness of a city can only be measured by how much light it lacks. I am not talking about the road lights that light up the road making for a beautiful spectacle when viewed from the sky on an airplane, but I am talking about the light in the hearts of its inhabitants - which create some touching moments that go viral on youtube reminding everyone to touch base with their humanity once in a while. I witnessed a young girl barely of 12-13, standing at the intersection of a road. Her clothes were tattered and through the holes in her dress, the bruises on her body peeked out as if they were shy to show the abuse this young body has suffered. The shyness of those bruises being even more evident from her body language, as she tried to hide the holes in her dress and stood their squirming, trying hard not to be noticed. Mind you, this is a very crowded intersection and she was visible to everyone just as she was to me and yet, there was absolute indifference to her state from those around. People walking around were either looking at their watch, talking on their phone, browsing on their phone or simply having fun with their friends. Their attention was too absorbed in themselves to care for another. But then, this is not just the story of that young girl, but thousands of other children, who in an overpopulated country with finite resources were simply unfortunate to have been born at the wrong place, at the wrong time or ...

Just then, a sedan stopped at the intersection. The glass was tinted and the driver invisible. A shady looking man creeped up behind the girl and money exchanged hands between the driver and the man. After which, the girl got into the car and they drove off.

... or simply unfortunate to have been born. For those born in darkness and never to have known light, how would they even know what they must seek? Will the girl ever find her hero, get on a horse and ride into the sun? For she is now used to finding a stranger, getting into a car and ride into the darkness.

With the subject matter of my article having left the scene, I decided to call my editor and ask for an extension of the deadline for the opinion piece. Then I turned away from the glass window and towards the food that had just arrived, and the whole event that happened apriori just tuned out of my head as if I had just turned off the television set.

***************************************************

Story 3

Yulin is a small prefecture in the Guangxi region of China. Searching on the internet leads to some interesting information about this prefecture. It is rich in natural resources especially iron and gemstones. It also has many mineral hot springs. But apart from this, it is not really well known for much else. That is, until I came to know about the Yulin Dog Meat Festival. When I read about this festival, I could not believe what I was reading. This festival is celebrated in the summer solstice in June by eating dog meat. It is estimated that roughly 10000 dogs are eaten during the 10 days of festival. The localites believe eating dog meat wards off the heat of the summer months. I did a quick internet search to confirm some of these reports. This was abomination. How could anyone eat dogs?

I immediately sat down on my computer and started an online petition against this festival at change.org. I had found a youtube video where a chinese man caught a roadside dog in preparation of this festival. I thought it was imperative that people see such videos and attached the video along with the petition. Soon enough, the petition went viral and thousands and thousands began signing and voicing their dissent against the festival on the internet. I also wrote a blog about the same and ensured that it got views by hotlinking it on facebook and twitter.

In a few days, the issue caught enough attention of the world, so that millions of people joined me in my protest against the festival. My faith in humanity was restored. To see people eagerly joining me - a lonely voice on the internet was a humbling and yet a powerful experience. I laid back wondering how much the internet has empowered individuals to make a difference in this world.

Then, I went on thedailyshow.com. I watched Jon Stewart making a mockery of Chris Christie for supporting a bill which allows pig breeders to continue breeding pigs in tiny crates. This animal cruelty enraged me and it was suffocating. I went outside to get some air and as I walked by a Burger King, I decided to get something to eat.

"Good day Sir, how may I help you?", asked the person at the counter.

"Good day to you too", I smiled, "Umm, can I have a pork sandwich please?".

As I sat eating the sandwich, the thoughts of all that happened in relation to the Yulin Dog Meat Festival came flooding and I started feeling a little better about the world again.

Simulation Hypothesis

Genre: Science Fiction
Word Count: ~2400

The analog clock alarm rings for no one but an empty room. It's ringing is magnified by the resounding silence - and not just that of an empty room but of the entire world. Just then, one can hear the thumping footsteps of a man who coomes into the room, stops the alarm. Then, emptily stares at the dial which showed the hour hand on 7 and the minute hand on 6. Who needs an alarm in this world - is a question he never asks. For him, it is a routine he simply follows. Little did he realize that today, 6 years after that incident, he is going to come to terms with the reality of the world and he was going to begin a journey he never imagined.

Bid Dable was an inventory manager at a local warehouse. He was 31 years old and had been working as the inventory manager for the last 10 years. And every day of those 10 years have been the same - waking up at 7.30 in the morning, getting ready and checking in to the warehouse by 8.30, work until 8.00 in the evening, go to a mall and get some pre-cooked food, heat it in an oven and consume it, then go to sleep at 10.00. During holidays, he would never get out of the house, except to get some food. For the rest of the time, well, he worked as a carpenter. Nothing fancy, just some stools, teapoys, simple chairs etc. Something he knew he could make in a few hours. His customers were charged for the actual wood purchases, but his own work charges were quite small compared to professional carpenters. So, he used to get quite a few orders on a regular basis. He had assigned a small portion of his house as wood work-station and worked on these small jobs during the day, ensuring the neighbours are not disturbed during the night. He would also commit only to as many orders as he knows he can finish during weekend or holidays. Although, some of them did not mind delays because his workman cost was quite cheap. And thus every day of his life when he woke up and until he slept, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

And then it happened. It was 6 years ago from today. Bid was checking inventory in the warehouse as usual. There was a loud thunder, the earth shook and even some shrieks were heard. He surmised that it was probably a co-occurrence of earthquake and a thunderstorm or he would have, if he cared about what just happened. He cared more for the boxes that fell out of the shelves and thus, his next step was to place them back where they were. Soon, it was 8 in the evening and he was about to leave the warehouse, he saw nobody, none of his co-workers were around, the manager wasn't around. He checked that their cars were still parked. A normal man would have been intrigued as to what happened, but for Bid, these were things he need not bother with. He simply took his car and left for the mall. He took his usual pre-cooked food, and waited at the counter for someone to appear but no one was to be seen. No one, as in, not the cashier, and not even people who usually frequented the mall were to be seen. He waited for a while, but then he simply placed the required cash amount on the counter with a note and left. This continued for the next few days, no people were seen around but he continued to live on as if that did not matter to him. The first weekend after the incident arrived and he finished some of the orders that were left over but no one came to pick them up and pay for it. The next week, continued in the same vein, he carried along his routine at work. Until the second weekend, he had no carpentry orders. For the first time in the last 10 years, he did not know what to do. He sat on the sofa, then tried to sleep, but nothing worked for him. He got up, put on his work clothes and went to the warehouse - it was OPEN! He simply went inside and began to work as if it was just another week day and this continued for the next 6 years. In all this time, he never questioned how he was able to find food at mall and never got over or how he never had to fill the gas tank of his car. These things were irrelevant, as long as he knew what he had to do.

On one night when Bid was going to the mall in the evening as usual. Suddenly a wall of liquid appeared in front of him, which forced him to suddenly brake. He got out of his car - it intrigued him. He went closer to the wall and started examining it. It was oval shaped, it was not too wide, but it was not too thin either. He felt as if he could walk through this wall quite comfortably if he so desired. As he continued to examine it, the liquid suddenly shimmered and showed the road behind the wall. There were people, he could see people. People who were not there if he looked around the wall, but he could see them through the wall. He instinctively approached the wall, but then it disappeared and another man came flying from just behind the wall to hit Bid.

Both men were hurting from that impact. The man quickly got up and offered his hand to help Bid get up.

"Are you alright?" the man asked Bid. Bid shook his head in affirmative.

"Good." The man said and quickly took out his phone and started entering something into it. Bid just stood there staring at him. He had not seen another human being in the last 6 years and now that he has seen one, he has no idea how he is feeling. The man caught Bid staring at him and suddenly started,

"Oh sorry, where are my manners? I am Wate, Adick Wate. I am a computer scientist specializing in prediction models." Wate then took a quick look at Bid and claimed, "Well dressed, neatly shaved and how did you manage to cut your hair? Anyways, you seem to be doing lot better than most people I have come across."

"I am Bid, Bid Dable. Ah, I work in inventory management. Do you mean to say that there are others?" asked Bid.

"Hmm, yes, why? you haven't come across any?"

Bid shook his head in negation.

"That may not be such a surprise, it may not be that many people but the way things are going, you might see a whole lot more in this area and to be honest, that may not be such a good thing." said Wate as he continued to fiddle with his phone.

"What do you mean?"

"Few people, and nearly abundant resources. It is a situation almost out of a fantasy book where a man is consumed by his thirst for power. And such is case right now. They talk about recreating the entire human kind with themselves as its leader. But of course there are many with similar ideas and they all claim that they have been chosen by God and this world has been given to them as their reward or some nonsense like that."

"They are fighting?" asked Bid, almost surprised.

"Oh yes, there are small skirmishes between different factions happening right now as we speak."

"You look unconcerned."

Wate was taken aback, "You speak without holding back, don't you?"

"I am sorry."

"No, apologies are unnecessary. It is true. Because I believe this is not our world at all and that gaining power is just idiotic." then Wate looked at Bid and asked him pointedly, "Did you see through the portal?"

Bid looked back confused, "Portal?"

"The wall of liquid like material that was in front of you. Did you see through the wall of liquid?"

Bid shook his head in affirmative.

"Did you see people through the wall?"

And then the images of people walking by, cars honking on the road flashed through his head and his almost instinctive unexplainable reaction to touch the wall resurged again.

"I knew it, your expression says it all. Its a shame you didn't try to go through the wall"

"Why?"

"You would have been back to our world by now, if you had", Wate was excited as he said this.

"Our world? Then what is this place?" enquired Bid. There was a certain enthusiasm in his voice that he had never experienced before.

"You are asking a difficult question. Initially, I thought it was some strange abduction experiment, corporation conspiracy, government conspiracy, but over the years even though I haven't had clear evidence one way or the other, I have a strong belief in the following answer -" Wate looked at Bid as he came to this point. "You will call me crazy, if I tell you this."

"No, I would consider your answer seriously. Whether I would believe it or not is something I can't say, but I would consider it seriously."

Wate felt a sense of gratitude towards Bid. "There is a hypothesis in philosophy known as Simulation Hypothesis. In 2003, Swedish philosopher Nick Bostrom claimed that our universe could be simply a simulation in some giant computer."

"What does that have to do with this world?" asked Bid.

"Well, that is the basis and everything I tell you now is just my speculation." Wate looked at Bid again, but Bid's eyes were serious and paying complete attention. "Have you worked with computers Bid?" he continued.

"Yes, at work."

"Good, if you have some important document and your computer is behaving strangely, then what do you do?"

"I just take a back up."

"Exactly! This world, haha no the entire universe, my friend, might just be a backup!"

Bid considered this carefully and answered, "but why do you think that?"

"How else can you explain the things that happen around you? The food you use is automatically replenished and it is exactly the same as before. You use that car right? I am sure you haven't refilled your gas tank in all these years. Why do you think that is the case?" and as Wate continued Bid recalled all the events, his daily routine, things he saw but did not think about and slowly realized how bizarre world the was.

"And what's more things that get broken, gets fixed automatically."

"What?" Bid got up almost startled.

"Don't tell me you haven't broken anything in the past 6 years? Seriously?" Wate took out a new notebook and tore a page from it and Bid saw, that in front of his eyes, the page was being restored, as Wate still held the torn page in his hands.

"This is amazing!"

"You know what the messed up part in all this is - the same rules don't apply to us. If the same rules applied to us, we should not be aging or our wounds should heal", then Wate pointed to the small wrinkles on his face and several bandages on his body. "If God were behind all this, He certainly thought that our accomplishments were more important than us. We are not wanted by this world! We are the pariahs, the Others of this world! In fact, I believe we shouldn't have been here in the first place. And I believe that the strange behaviour of the 'giant computer' that created this backup must have had some problems which pulled us into this universe and that very same behaviour is also creating these walls of liquid that you saw and I believe they are a way back to our world."

"That's", Bid looked a little uncertain as he said this, "a little far-fetched, don't you think?" He looked at Wate, hoping that he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

"True. But I have to get back and I will take any explanation that allows me to get back to where I was 6 years ago."

In the last 6 years, Bid never wished for anything, he went about his routine as if that's all that mattered to him, but right now seeing this man in front of him striving hard for the past 6 years to get back to whatever it was he had, stirred something within him. "Where are these portals created? I had never seen this wall of liquid around these parts before."

"They are almost random. But I have been tracking them for a long time and I have built a prediction model on my phone that helps me predict where the next portal will appear. Good thing, its batter power does not go down, but a phone is slower than a computer, but with none of the power stations running, it will be difficult to use anything with electrical input."

"Look. I don't know how much I can accept the whole - universe is a simulation thing. But I do know what I saw and I did see people on the other side of the wall. And if possible, I would like to help ... "

"That is fantastic!" Wate held Bid by his shoulder. "That would be great, if there is one more person looking for the portal, it would help reduce the time it takes for me to find them. If you have something that you would like to take with you, please do so right now. It will be a few hours before my model can predict the next location. But as soon as it does so, I would like to leave without delay."

Bid went back to his home, as Wate sat in his car near his apartment building. Bid looked around his house. He looked around for things that he would like to take. Finally, he just took his analog alarm clock and his carpentry toolbox with him. He bid adieu to his house and left with Wate on a journey to find their way back.

Flea Market

Struggling for the next meal,
a cheap ring can speak volumes,
to a maiden's heart in the
intimate silence that follows.

And that stuttering table fan,
can feel lavish to the young ones,
as it bellows cool wind, from the
corner of a damp cracked wall.

An old man buys a tall-case,
in remembrance of his father;
vows to protect it - a penance?
Is there a sad back story I wonder?

I walk around the flea market,
a place where people purchase,
old items for less; or maybe
items trade old memories for new?

T-suki

A world with moon,
and one without,
is sometimes merely,
a cloud away.

And yet, within my heart,
the world with you,
is miles apart.

All I desire is the courage,
to reach out to you,
or must I simply wait,
for the cloud to pass by?

My sanity, their madness

Am I staring,
  into the empty vase?
    or is it staring into me?

My self, my being,
  reduced to molten core,
    and moulded in its shape.

Its imperfections,
  shaped into me,
    become only far too clear.

I can feel,
  the rough calluses,
    that shaped my exterior.

I can feel,
  the gentle strokes,
    of the brush that painted.

I can smell,
  the wet sodden earth,
    that once filled me.

I can touch,
  the springy roots,
    of the flower that grew.

My mother exclaims,
  "That's all he does,
    stares into things all day".

She weeps,
  I know not why,
    her tears I don't understand.

I wish,
  to cheer her,
    I present her the vase.

Her hands gentle,
  placed it back,
    to where it belonged.

Can't she see,
  the story of the vase?
    Madness! I say, Madness!

Shipyard of Ice

Searing sun burns through me,
Intensified by the ice around.
Masses of ice surround me,
Waiting, like ships aground.

A piece broke off into the water,
"Ahoy there! A ship has launched!"
Slowly, but surely, Mother invades,
And Her flow cannot be staunched.

Her heart pains or weeps I wonder,
As she invades the Earth of Men.
"Earth of Men" - arrogance knows no bounds!
Claiming what belonged to Her, now or then.

She invades, not to punish us,
To Her, our crimes immaterial.
She invades, to repair balance,
Infected by our nature bacterial.

This war will be bloody, death abound,
And soon forgotten, for none to remember.
This shipyard of ice promises me such,
Even in the wintry days of December.

Until Death Do Us Apart

My love, my love is anything but,
Thinly veneer from a masonry cut.
Deep rooted in my earthen soul,
Feeds on me to become a whole.

You were my moon, my beautiful,
But I was your sun and dutiful.
Pray I ask, to what does the moon,
Owe its beauty, or is it too soon?
Was my light not enough for you?
It wasn't much, but it was true.

Two sides of a coin, I thought; shame
For one can't see the other's blot.
Apart but together, how it meant to me,
Together but apart, was it meant to be?

Sin was grave, betrayal unforgivable,
All I did was to make it more livable.
I dispensed justice don't you see?
Your sin punished and now you are free.

           Gentle eyes,
      Dimples of your smile,
         Your warm bosom,
        The tender petal,
       That is your touch,
      I miss, I covet, but
   My heart gripped in sadness,
     For they now lack life.

Your hands, now cold, tremble in mine,
I apologize, my rage crossed a line.
Don't you worry, soon it shall be fine.

You see, one trigger, another pull,
  And both of us free.
As water flows under the bridge,
  And now, so shall we.

Journey of Endymion

GENRE: Drama, Thriller
WORD COUNT: ~3500
RATING: Safe! (Well, some profanity, so be advised)

Its been a year since Karthik came to US for his graduate studies. A star pupil, securing a position with a very reputed scientist, came to US with two goals: become a renowned scientist and get a girlfriend. He was all of 22, with no overbearing parents and a burning ambition. But the graduate experience had gently pressed its wet fingers on the wick of his ambition. Rejected by girls and unable to keep up with the requisites, both his goals at this point looked like stars - shining, beautiful but unreachable. A few days back he gave his qualifier examination - which decides whether he can continue his studies or get shipped back to India. Sitting in his rental car outside of Whole Foods Market with a grocery bag in the backseat, his mind was distracted with negative thoughts. He came to get groceries near closing hours, so it was getting pretty dark outside. However, he still did not budge from the parking lot - his mind too distracted to drive.

The door on the passenger side opened and a woman entered. He could not properly make out her face because his gaze was firmly attracted to the nozzle of the gun she was pointing at him. "Now, start the car and move", ordered the woman. Karthik frantically took out his keys, managed to place the key into ignition after fumbling with it for a while, started the engine, pressed the accelerator and slammed the car into the front wall.

"Are you kidding me?", the woman exclaimed, "Reverse! Reverse! Calm down and hear me!" and a after brief pause she reiterated, "Reverse!"

Karthik put the car in reverse and pressed the accelerator hard again and this time hit a car parked behind him. Usually the commotion by now would have caused people to look at what is happening but the parking lot was dead silent and there was nobody around.

"Just my luck, the one car I tried to hijack... And people say women drive badly!", she got out of the passenger seat, came from outside to the driver seat and signalled him with her gun to move to the passenger side and she herself sat in the driver seat.

She kept her gun pointed at Karthik as she started driving. And all the while Karthik kept curling into a ball and could not even raise his head to take a look at her face. After a while, he calmed and wondered who she was and who she was running from. His question was soon answered as he heard police siren gradually increasing in volume.

"God Dammit, looks like I was bugged." said the woman as she searched her pockets, then threw away her mobile phone and anything else she could find except a USB flash disk. "Look, we are being chased and I need two hands to drive better. I am going to put this gun on safety and place it near the seat. Don't try to take it, because I don't want you to accidentally shoot yourself or me, especially me. Do you understand what I am saying?" Karthik shook his head up and down. Indian headshakes are one of the most complicated head shakes in the world for many people to understand, so much so that Youtube videos have been created so that people can understand how Indian head shakes work. But at this point, the woman realized that he was acknowledging that he understood what she said.

Soon, she grabbed the steering wheel with two hands and began driving even faster weaving through the traffic like a race car driver. And like it happens in movies, she immediately moved onto the opposite lane and started driving the car in the direction opposite to the traffic. The police however did not give up and continued giving chase. After a while, she managed to lose them but accidentally drove into an alley coming to a dead end. It was over. Getting out of this narrow alley would take too much time. If she tried to ditch the car and make a run for it, one of the police cars might spot her soon enough. Even if she stayed in the alley, one of the patrol cars is bound to spot a car hanging around in the alley. Resting her head on the steering wheel, she turned to her hostage and told him, "Look, soon we will be caught by the police and when they ask you about the situation, simply tell them that I was holding you at gunpoint and I gave you no choice and that you had to comply with my demands. Do you understand?" Karthik shook his head in affirmation again. "Good." then she continued to stare at the blank wall in front of her.

For the first time, Karthik had calmed down and was getting a good look at his captor. The woman was probably in her early thirties, but she was gorgeous. Her grey eyes matched her auburn hair. She had a glowing visage and a body so graceful that her tight jeans accentuated it brilliantly. If he had to describe her, then to him, she looked like diamond eyed venus, if venus had auburn hair, wore tight black jeans and a blue tank top. And even before he realized, his body moved on its own and grabbed her hand and pulled her outside of the car.

"Hey, what are you doing? What do you want?", she almost screamed.

He still did not have enough courage to speak out, so he simply pointed out the fire ladders at the top. She understood and followed him.

Karthik was gifted with advanced spatial memory abilities. He can visit places and can create a complete mental map of the area he visited and not just places but also patterns like traffic patterns and even patrolling patterns of police cars. In the one year, he has stayed in this city, he has spent several hours walking and driving around several places and has a mental map of the entire city. He knows how to best avoid getting spotted by the patrol cars.

Karthik took charge as they both weaved in and out of couple of buildings and they finally came out on the streets. She immediately wrapped her arms around his, so they looked like a couple walking along and did not garner attention. Karthik felt happy even if it would last only for few moments, but soon quietly remarked to himself, "my hormones are going to get me killed, aren't they?". Karthik finally stopped near a shop named "Couch Gaming". The proprietor gave Karthik keys to Room 11. The small room had a large TV, couple of console stations PS3 and XBox, a computer with a large screen monitor, a chair and a couch.

"What is this place?", woman enquired appearing quite intrigued.

"Oh, this is a gaming cafe. People come here, rent a room for a specified duration and play as many games as they want. They have many latest titles as well as the classics. So, everyone, young and old enjoys their time here."

"And you seem to be a regular customer here", the woman looked at him with a smirk. Karthik was visibly flustered at the comment. He admonished himself for rambling too long about games and was disappointed at the prospect of her thinking of him as a loser. The pause that continued afterwards only made him even more uncomfortable.

Ignoring his condition, she continued to look around and asked him, "Does the PC have an internet connection? And also does it have Journey of Endymion?"

Karthik was surprised. Journey of Endymion was an old MMORPG title, one of the classics which was partly based on Keat's book. It chronicles the journey of endymion through his phases of love for Diana upto his love for the Indian maiden and it is peppered with fictional quests and situations to make this journey realistic. The company that made the game however did not make much profit and went under. However, the game gained lot of cult following. The code of the game was soon open sourced and people started creating their own servers to play the game. Over the years, this game gained immense popularity among hard core gamers. However, before he quickly began losing himself in his own thoughts, Karthik gathered his wits and replied, "Yes, it has JoE".

"Sweet!" the woman sat on the computer, started JoE, logged into an account. Karthik, who was standing beside her and looking at the screen was startled that her game character had a level of 519, which was a very high level. Even his own game character which he has been nurturing over 4 years has only reached level 103 and he was struggling to proceed beyond that. However, instead of playing the game, she instead went to the in-game email program and sent an email.

"WLL B W8NG N CAFE"

Then, she logged onto a message board and went a very specific chat room called "Cafe Booty". As the chat room opened, the wall of the chat room was immediately filled with fanart images of various female characters from the game showing off their impressive derriere. And as if none of it bothered her, she simply folded her hands and stared at the computer.

"What are you doing?" Karthik asked perplexed.

She looked at him and replied, "I am waiting for someone in the chat room" and then she looked at the screen and then again at Karthik, "Are you into this stuff? I mean those buttocks look mighty impressive. My contact won't arrive for a while, so I can get out of the room, give you some privacy and you can do your business." There was a glint of mischievousness in her eyes. Karthik shook his head and glanced sideways, which she inferred as "No". "Wait. Do you mean? You want me to be here while you do it?", Karthik shook his head again with visible frustration indicating "No". "Oh! Do you bend the other way? I mean there is nothing wrong with that, I am just asking", she was clearly a getting a kick out of teasing him at this point.

Karthik wanted to ask her so many questions, starting with who she was and why she was running from police, but forget about explaining the situation, she is not even treating him as an adult.

"Do you want to know who I am and what is going on? Even if I tell you that knowing this information can get you in big trouble?"

Karthik wondered if she could read his mind.

"Now, come on. At least be a little courteous and introduce yourself first!"

He was taken aback and started to shuffle about as he introduced himself. "Ma.. My name is Karthik. I am a graduate student in CMU."

"Hmm. A graduate student eh? Well, then you must have heard of conspiracy theories about Area 51, right? About how they research on aliens and alien technology in that area. Well, what if I tell you that it is all true and I have evidence for it?"

The woman gave a pause, so that the listener fully registers the impact of her statement.

"My name is Eliza Shapley. I am a military private. Well, they call me a private but all I do is run menial errands. But once, while I was delivering some documents, I overheard something I shouldn't have overheard. I, soon, began to seek out hard evidence."

"And how did you obtain it?"

"Seduction." Then, she looked at Karthik with alluring eyes that made him hot in the ears. Then, she continued, "Well, you see the research was partly contracted with a private company. I managed to make contact with a guy, a bit old, in his late forties, who was pretty high up in the ladder. A little bit of flirting and he opened up to me like can of tuna. Initially, he was a bit reserved to show me the data. So, I nudged him a little more and then just spending one night gave me access to his laptop and everything on it." She leaned forward and waved the USB disk at Karthik. "I have been on the run ever since. Cannot leak it on my own, has to be done by someone more proficient. So, do you believe me?"

"No." replied Karthik.

"Why?" Eliza asked curiously.

"The part about se.. seduction." and he bowed his head so low, that if he lowered it anymore, one would clearly see the back of his head from the front. After a brief pause, Eliza laughed and her laugh was boisterous. It was so loud that the neighbouring rooms began banging the wall indicating that Room 11 must lower its voice. She began controlling her laughter and she remarked while still chortling, "I am sorry, I haven't laughed like this in quite a while".

Karthik was deeply embarrassed, and just at that moment, a sharp bell ring came from the speakers. Dune522 had just IMed "I8N008S4BRKFST". That was Eliza's ID, read as "I ate noobs for breakfast". Karthik was now convinced that she was a natural bully. Eliza after exchanging few messages, turned to him and said, "Well, I have a new destination but I still have two hours before I leave, so let us talk about JoE". And for the next two hours, they both talked about JoE. She talked passionately about how much she had to work to get her character to level 519 and she also give him tips on how he can go beyond his current level. A honest and straight-forward conversation.

Two-hour limit was up, Eliza stood up and faced Karthik, "Sorry, I will be borrowing your car. I will return it to you somehow." Again impulsively grabbing her hand, he asked, "where is the destination?" Eliza felt his firm hand and replied with some hesitation, "Near Public Market".

Both left the cafe. Karthik carefully drove her to the Public Market while avoiding any detection. They stood near a square for few minutes when a hooded man approached the car and knocked on the window. Eliza exchanged her USB disk and hooded man left the way he came. Eliza, now got out of the car and asked Karthik to go back. Just then, a shot was fired and Eliza was bleeding through her stomach. Karthik, picked her up, placed her in the car and pushed the pedal hard to the nearest hospital. The cop who shot her, had already intimated others. However, Karthik reached hospital much faster, soon Eliza was admitted to surgery. The cops who reached the hospital left couple of officers to monitor Eliza and took Karthik into custody.

For the next 12 hours, Karthik was extensively interrogated. They soon got his background details, made him realize how precarious his situation is, being a non-US student. After several such hours, he finally broke and told the officers everything. The interrogating officer on hearing his testimony banged the table in disgust and shouted,

"ARE YOU FUCKIN' KIDDING ME?!"

Karthik shrunk back and cowered. Words tied up inside. The officer soon realized that he was telling the truth. "Let him go. This idiot does not know anything." said the officers to the guards. Karthik, then took a cab back to his dorm - his rental car impounded for investigation. Tired body, worried mind and a heavy dose of self loathing were a destructive combination. All he could do now was get some sleep.

In the next four days, he heard nothing from the police. He tried to meet Eliza, but the police kept a tight watch on her. Fifth day, he received an SMS from the University about the results of his qualifier exam. He had been so worried about Eliza that he almost forgot about this. However, right now, he didn't have the courage to look at the results. He plonked down on the sofa and turned on the TV.

BREAKING NEWS: In a story of incredible heroism, freelance journalist Alice Cooper has managed to obtain evidence for a secret deal between Citizen First firearms manufacturer and several rebel groups in Somalia. There are opinions among many experts, that this might be a factor for the rising violence in several regions of Africa. Miss Cooper (picture shown in the side) was almost shot by police officers while acquiring this evidence. A separate investigation has been convened for the alleged involvement of police in this matter. Miss Cooper who was shot is now recovering in St. Mary's Hospital. The surveillance on Miss Cooper has now been removed. More on this later, as we go for a break.

Karthik recognized the picture immediately and set off for the hospital. He grabbed a bouquet on his way and peeked inside her ward. He saw Eliza lying back on the bed, next to her was a tall gentleman who was holding her hand and she was looking at him with eyes so lovingly. Karthik retraced his steps and placed the bouquet in an empty vase near the reception and went back to her ward. He knocked on the door and entered.

"And there he is, my lucky charm.", exclaimed Eliza. "I was hoping you would come by and meet me." Then she went onto introduce the gentleman next to her, "This is Sam."

"Hi, my name is Samuel Beckett. Alice told me quite a lot about you. I almost felt that she might cheat on me.", said Sam as he shook Karthik's hand.

"Why not? He is young, cute, innocent. I can mould him into the man of my dreams. My own boy toy."

"Why did you lie?" came an angry voice. The dissenting voice could not face Eliza however, "I know you lied to protect me, I wish you hadn't though. I know I am being stupid and selfish here, but still ..." No, That was not what he wanted to say, "No, I am a coward. I gave you up. I am sorry, so sorry."

"Isn't he an adorable puppy dog?" Eliza to Sam.

"I see what you mean now." said Sam in an agreeing tone.

"I would like to feed and pet him." Eliza being querulous. "Ah! I know, forget about your graduate studies. Join me as my personal lucky charm assistant!" Eliza cheerfully looked at Karthik.

However, this attempt to lighten the mood did not have the desired impact. They looked at each other and Sam nodded as a sign that she should face him more honestly.

Eliza looked at Karthik and began, "As a child, I was a crybaby. Children used to tease me. My parents got me a small puppy dog, named turbo. He was timid and would hide behind me when anyone approached. One day, the children teased me and I began to cry as usual. Turbo, who was hiding behind my back, came to the front and growled at the other kids. He was still a puppy though. They pelted stones at him, and he began to bleed but he did not move. Then, the children simply left. I picked up turbo and ran to my mother. He was severely injured but he survived. Turbo and I, then, spent 16 happy years together and I felt lucky to be with him."

"When you drove me from Cafe to Market, your eyes were fierce and determined. You reminded me of turbo. And you were my lucky charm." There was a deep caring smile in her face as she said that. Then, sheepishly looking away, "And yes, I know I put you through a lot and I lied to you, but you know .. its past, water under the bridge and all that, right?" Eliza extended a hand to Karthik. Karthik looked from her face to her hand repeatedly.

"Take it Karthik, that is the closest you will get to 'I am sorry' from her." Eliza glared at Sam for saying that, to which he simply shrugged his shoulders. She then felt a tug at her hand. Karthik shook it, all the while keeping his head low. Then he took his leave. Sam followed him out and called out,

"She is tough, but she needs support. I am glad you were there. You saved her in more ways than one. We owe you for that. If you need our help at anytime, don't hesitate to call on us." he presented two cards as he said this. "And yes, she has written down her JoE ID at the back of her card and she wants to play JoE with you as a group, if you are interested." He took Karthik's hand, firmly held it and then went back in. Karthik looked through the glass to see Sam leaning in to kiss Eliza's forehead and he gently clasped her palms between his. Karthik turned around, and placed the visiting cards into his pocket. Then he picked up his phone and checked his results:

QUALIFIER EXAM: CLEARED. CONGRATULATIONS!

"Water under the bridge," mumbled Karthik to himself.

---

CARD 1
Alice Cooper
Freelance Journalist

CARD 2
Dr. Samuel Beckett
Medicins sans Frontiers

Your love tastes like alcohol

Whisky, gin and lavender,
But a broken heart, is all I could smell.
As I picked her up and took her home,
The pain inside her did not yet quell.

How many times have I picked her up?
have I smelt her pain and anguish?
I have lost count yet haven't moved on.
As my heart has yet to languish.

I laid her body on her bed, touched her face,
gently rubbing my fingers across her cheeks,
to feel the dry tears, which she deserved not.

Oh, what I would not do to give her happiness!

Right then she grabbed my hand,
A gentle smile crossed her face,
With happy tears in her eyes,
She locked me in a tight embrace.

Our cheeks brushed, hers still wet,
her beating heart that I couldn't miss,
Before long, I could feel her breath,
Our lips locked in a passionate kiss.

Then she moved her face away,
Her deep set eyes staring at me,
My heart grew three inches big,
If only,
I could cut it out for her to see.

Then she called me by a name,
Staring at me, but it wasn't mine,
She hugged me tight and fell asleep,
Is this where I must draw a line?

I placed her back on her bed,
I walked back to my car,
A journey so long, my feet so heavy,
Every inch of my body was in a war.

I touched my lips,
The sensation of that kiss still lingering,
Her love tastes like alcohol,
With short relief and years of suffering.

Sounds of Abandonment

*Slap*
  the sound rings in my ears;
Watching their fight -
  helpless, weak, scared.

Sent away, *Shut*,
  the door closed on violence.
My existence -
  now a burden.
But I did not ask to be born.

I am cursed.
Misery touches everyone around me -
  she is gracious, fair.
*Snap* I wonder,
do I have the right to happiness?

In the garden full of trees,
  I watch the weed;
Surviving, struggling,
  reaching for the light that seeps through.
*Chop* the gardener removed,
  the harmful, the unneeded, the unnecessary.

And I am here,
  in the dark.
Groping around,
  for some light.
Tired, and I fall.
A hand reaches out,
  *Thud* I see the face of the gardener.

Mother

       |c|
       |a|
   A |n|  bl
       |d|  ee
       |le|    ds
    |Only|  
  |to shed|
    |light,|
      |On|
|those near.|

Fallen Leaf

Leaf floats,
Along the river,
Purposeless, meaningless,
And without a sliver.

Abandoned and hopeless,
For what it was,
Wondering why,
Without a cause.

And afoot,
There was a fall,
Leaf tugged along,
To end it all.

Just then an ant,
Came upon the leaf,
Looking at the fall,
With a bit of grief.

Near the edge,
A wind flew by,
Clutching,
The leaf began to fly.

Recalling the day,
And the branch it left,
A short feeling of freedom,
And an eternity bereft.

Gently floating,
Down the fall,
Caressing the land,
Coming to a crawl.

Carefully trudging,
The ant departs,
Again abandoned,
In the heart of hearts.

The leaf unmoved,
And facing down,
Wondering, if there is,
Another waterfall,
Another wind,
Another ...

A Cup of Ice Cream

She cries and cries,
Then takes a scoop.

Her face impassive,
Her heart broken,
Her body listless,
Her eyes so glassy,
That it reflects the warmth and the beauty of the world back at it.

Can't say nothing to console her heart,
Can't do nothing to bring her smile,
After all, I am just a cup of ice cream.
All I can do is to offer what's inside me,
She can scoop out as much as she desires,
Her saltiness will dissipate within me,
And all she will taste would be sweet.

Someday, she will get better,
And see me for what I truly am.
But for now, I just wish to be,
Her cup of ice cream.

First Love

I am part of this group on goodreads which conducts a weekly contest of poetry and short story (with different theme every week). I started participating in the hope that I will write something every week and it seems to work. At least my blog seems a bit more active now :P
----

I am, near you,
Near you, yet I can't,
Yet I can't realize,
Can't realize.

I have, as you see,
As you see, a duality,
See a duality, that crystallized,
Just crystallized.

I just look down, then look sideways,
All I want do, is to see your face.
I stiffen up, when you come by,
When you leave, I breathe a sigh.

I am, near you,
Near you, yet I can't,
Yet I can't realize,
Can't realize.

Now here I am, I asked you out,
To confess to you, how I feel.

Just see me thinking here about these useless things,
Want to bury myself in the shame it brings,
Look at the words, they are flying with wings,
And its just been a minute and so it stings.

I am, near you,
Near you, yet I can't,
Yet I can't speak out,
Can't speak out.

And time goes, so slow by,
So slow, just let me die,
Just let me die, let me die.

Carne Vale

Drums are beating,
Huzzah! Huzzah!
Trumpets are blowing,
Huzzah! Huzzah!

White as gay,
And black as bold,
Here they are,
From young and old,
Rising up, from their tombs, one and all,
Huzzah! Huzzah!
Trumpets are blowing,
Huzzah! Huzzah!

Gloomy faces with cheery eyes,
Happy faces with teary eyes,
Wrinkles showing experiences,
And paradoxes make them wise.
The old look up,
Huzzah! Huzzah!
Trumpets are blowing,
Huzzah! Huzzah!

Drooping shoulders from mounting debts,
Weary eyes with filled regrets,
Disappointed by their stolen future,
Give a look of yearn towards their bets.
The young look back,
Huzzah! Huzzah!
Drums are beating,
Huzzah! Huzzah!

The milky way then opens her door,
A shining path then touches the floor,
Eyes are sparkling, mouth agape,
The cheers arise as expectations soar.
Looking ahead,
Huzzah! Huzzah!
Drums are beating,
Huzzah! Huzzah!
Trumpets are blowing,
Huzzah! Huzzah!

Cheering and dancing, they make for the door,
Stop a while later, they look to the floor,
A sea of tombs made of flesh and stone,
A raven flies just then, "Nevermore, nevermore!"
All then shout,
Huzzah! Huzzah!
"Carne Vale!"
Huzzah! Huzzah!
Drums beat again,
Huzzah! Huzzah!
Trumpets blow again,
Huzzah! Huzzah!

May Day

GENRE: Science Fiction
WORD COUNT: ~1700
RATING: Safe!

"Mr. Kumar, are you ready?"
Mr. Kumar adjusts his tie, gently tugs on the collar of his suit and straightens his neck, as he faces the reporter and the cameraman.
"Yes, Miss Vinita, I am ready."
Miss Vinita motions for her crew to start recording.

"Hello and Welcome to The Hum. Today, we are with Mr. Rajesh Kumar who claims that he has some information regarding the events that lead to the siege of May Day." She turns from the camera to Mr. Kumar, "Welcome Mr. Rajesh Kumar"
"Thanks for having me"
"Can you tell us a little bit about yourself and how you came across the information that you plan to share with us today?"
Mr. Kumar takes a deep breath, leans back a little on his chair. "Now, I am a grandfather with two beautiful grandchildren, but my connection with May Day began 50 years ago on 14th February, 2018."
"What happened on that day?"
"I was offered an internship" Mr. Kumar gives a brief smile and continues, "You see, back then, I was a 19 year old student, studying literature in a local college in Mumbai. Like any young student, I had a desire to go for an internship, preferably abroad. I knew my chances were not great, given that I did not have great academic record, but I still applied to several universities and even corporate internships for which I was eligible. As I had surmised, I did not get a call back from any of the places I had applied, except one, Brecht Inc. They took several telephone interviews over a period of two months. I was feeling a little bit lucky, a little bit happy and worked really hard to look good in those interviews. After all that, an offer of 6 month internship was finally made by them."

"You mean the same Brecht Inc. that the government had claimed were responsible for the siege?"
Mr. Kumar looked down, he placed his hands on his lap and gently rubbed them, and then he stopped. "I will tell you what Brecht Inc. was and then people can decide whether they were responsible or not."
"I am sorry, it is a bit cold in here. We can try to quickly get this interview over with."
"No, it is fine. I understand the circumstances quite well, you don't have to feel sorry about it"
"So, what was Brecht Inc.?"
"Brecht Inc. consisted of handful of people and a few researchers. While it was officially known to have funded by a few angel investors, however, in reality, it was a crowd funded company where the names of the common people funding the company were kept anonymous."
"So, you are saying that Brecht Inc. was actually a company founded and run by a portion of the general public?"
"Yes, a fairly large portion in fact."
"What were they trying to achieve which required anonymity?"
"Their goal was the completion of their project Resolution. This project began on January 1st, 2019 which is also when I joined them for the internship. At the beginning I did not know what the project was intended to do. My task as an intern were two-fold: 1] convert the definitions contained in the dictionaries into a certain format that was supposed to be read by a computer and 2] input basic facts about the world which are not readily available on the internet into a computer system."
"That is very strange. Did you not feel anything odd about all of it?"
Mr. Kumar let out a small laugh and said, "I was a 20 year old, on an internship, in a foreign land. What do you think?"
Vinita smiled a little, and pushed further "So, what it is that they were trying to build?"
Mr. Kumar looked down, scratched the back of his head and then after a while, he tilted his head towards the camera and said, "they were building an Intelligent system".
"You mean, they were building robots"
Mr. Kumar vehemently shook his head and stressed, "No, no, not at all. They were building an intelligent system that would parse arguments made in favour and against several laws in the congress. The system was designed to find flaws in each argument, check facts being quoted by the politicians and discover links between the law and any corporate project that might be affected by them." Mr. Kumar took a short breath to slow himself down, and then continued, "You see, people were concerned that the laws being passed in the Congress were being influenced by corporations. While this may not hurt people in the short term, but it can have long term consequences. Many news analysis teams had cropped up over the internet at the time who demonstrated several discrepancies in the argument made by politicians in Congress. However, humans can identify only very few patterns and can see only so much far ahead, while machines; machines can be made to identify much bigger and deeper patterns and figure out consequences that may not be readily visible. To do this, lots of machines and smart applications that can store and analyze large amounts of data were required. Maintaining and building such a system required lots of engineers and researchers and all of this culminated into Brecht Inc."
"Why the anonymity, I don't see anything illegal here?"
As she finished this question, the ground shook and a small rumbling sound echoed through the cold underground tunnel. Vinita and her crew looked at each other and then at Mr. Kumar. Mr. Kumar adjusted himself on his seat and said, "The people were afraid that they may feel a pushback from the government if they came to know of the existence of this system. The idea was that Brecht Inc. would parade itself as just another news analysis agency and existence of the intelligent system will be kept secret. In the worst case, a few people who are the face of the company may experience problems, but at least most general public can be safe-guarded from unnecessary problems."
"You told us that you were not aware of the intention of the project, when did you get to know this information?"
"2 months into my internship. As it happened, I was not the only intern working there. Also, several million people were contributing from remote places. After just two months of data, the system was performing way better than the researchers had anticipated and it was already producing amazing results. We held a small party wherein a drunk engineer clued me in on this project albeit unintentionally", Mr. Kumar smiled as if recalling that scene from his memory.
"This was near March of 2019. How did this seemingly harmless project end up in the siege?"
Mr. Kumar became grim. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and rubbed his forehead. Then, he shifted his hands down to rub his eyes. He looked up, those red eyes now visible, "A week after government agents came and shut us down. As it happened, our system managed to breach and locate some confidential government files and link them to certain foreign policies being debated in the Congress. It would not have looked good for the politicians, if that information had gone out. The agents had identified everyone connected with the project and almost all of us were given a choice - either shut up and never talk about this or be charged with treason for hacking confidential data. All of us took the way out. The agents held back and took the engineers and researchers who worked on this project along with them."
"What did they do?"
"I don't know, but just two months afterwards the siege happened. Later, when government announced that Brecht Inc. was responsible for the siege and incarcerated those engineers and researchers involved with Brecht Inc., I figured that something went wrong in those two months and government is making Brecht Inc. take the fall for it. It is pitiful how the politicians could not see past their protecting their own image and allowed anarchy to follow." Mr. Kumar leaned back on his chair and looked up at the ceiling of the tunnel which were showing signs of age. There was a tremor again and another rumbling sound echoed and this time it was far more louder and far more clearer.
Vinita, realizing that it is almost time to wrap up, asked a final question, "Why? Why after all these years? Why not earlier?"
Mr. Kumar had a pained look on his face, mixed with embarassment as he answered, "I left the country in June, as I was supposed to. While the country was still in the confusion and shock of the siege, the infrastructure was still functional at the time. When I came back to India, it was different life and siege was not my problem anymore. At least that is what I thought back then." Mr. Kumar eyes were brimming with tears, took out a photo from his pocket and showed it in front of the camera, "This is my daughter. I lost her during one of the raid attacks." As he said this, he looked at the picture, his eyes requesting her to come back. He wiped his tears and continued, "Now, I have two grandchildren left and I want to protect them in any way I can."

At that moment, lot of sharp sounds were heard. The sound of metal clanging on brick walls was easily discernible. The shooting crew was quick on its feet, they wrapped up their equipment quickly. The crew members began running and Vinita tried helping Mr. Kumar. He refused her help and asked her to escape. As they were escaping, the shooting crew saw Mr. Kumar being caught and chained by several sentinel robots. As she was escaping, Vinita turned the camera to her, "We are confident that stories such as these will continue to give direction to our struggle and one day we will find a resolution to this tragedy. Remember, The Hum is always present everywhere. Now, we end this live global transmission."