Review of (Audience of) 3 idiots

 A typical person applauding the movie " 3 idiots ", belongs to the age group of 18-80 years, male/female, average educated, highly opinionated and overtly hypocritical.


I had my first eye opening experience with this person, I guess, at the age of 13.
I wished that would be my only eye opening experience, but, my eyes were opened hundreds of times, all through my life.


Interaction with that person goes like this:




Me as a kid and teen:


  Dad : You are an intelligent kid. Why r u getting poor marks?
  Me : I dont care for marks.
  Dad : Shut  up idiot. Live in reality.

  specific friend : My mom wants to know how you got 100/100 in math (in 7th class)
  me : just like that.
  specific friend : because of the math guide your dad bought?
  me : I didnt even open that book.
  specific friend : I want that book
  me : take it.


( remember this guy)


Teacher to principal : Vamsee reads degree level books and asks me questions. I am not able to handle him.
principal to me : What do you think of yourself? u think u r a knife? u think u r a thope. Idiot. live in reality. How much you got in languages?
me : 50. Just pass (giggling)
principal : idiot. no body cares how much you got in math and science. Total is important.
me : I dont care.




Dad : whats your total?
me : Not much. got max in science and math.
Dad : How can I face the society now. idiot. live in reality.






in college:


 Friend : I can't be your friend anymore.
 me : why?
 Friend : You dont believe in god. And, your arguments make me really insecure
 me : dude..why don't you go and screw yourself. Okay??




 me : what you doing?
 freind : reading math.
 me : reading math?
 friend : ya..reading math.
 me : reading..... math???
friend : I will be the one in BITS pilani..and you will be the one in bits and pieces.
 me : No. I study with passion to know stuff. Not for your stupid marks.


dad : so, out of all the thousands of your vignan residential college friends, you are the only one who ran out, and then you didnt get seat in ramayya and krishayya, and then you barely passed out your inter, goin to college as a tourist, became a fat fuck, watched stupid movies, didnt get a seat in yaamcet, and I wonder how  once a brilliant student destroyed his life. How can i show my face to my colleagues, whose son's are studying in IIT's,pilani, Ranchis and Rookie....btw, what happend to ranchi exam..
me : I went to bharathiyudu movie.( I am done with your BS)
dad : I really wish you were not born. (gummadi drama)
mom and sis : great! awesome! Now you aaapset our great dad.(psychological dependency)


specific friend : LMAO! How come our great intelligent non-mugging vamsee failed to beat even EAMCET?
me : You came all way....after 5 years of non-contact, to say that, dont you?
specific friend : Yes..hahahhaha..


( While writing this, I kind of realised that, I somehow created jealousy among people, since 5th class to till this day. How? why? Thats surprising, considering, I haven't achieved any materialistic achievements.)



Hostel owner : Your son, he is a devil. He spoils every one here. He is the leader of these 3 idiots, and they destroyed the whole hostel last night. I don't want to call the police. Please take him away.
dad : God, when will this end?
me : Dad, god is dead.

As an adult:


 me : dude..marks are not important....passion is important....living life is important...drinking is important...fighting for friendship is important.

friend : I will get seat in the best of american universities, and you...I dont know
get drunk..and live on the streets. I am predicting that.

college commitee : So, who started the fight?
me : caste,class and alcohol started it. and this committee is a farce.
cc : we can screw your life.
me : degree is not life.

friend: dude..thanks for completing my project man.
me : dont embarrass me dude....I liked the concept.




me : dude ..how can you work a passionless, monotonous 8 to 5 jobs. life is much more ..than money..
friend : I went to las vegas, hawaii, niagara falls..I enjoy my life..more than you..
me : u went there as a tourist, to take pics of yourself, so that you can convince yourself that you are enjoying..no man..tourists suck. Life is a vacation dude..

me : green card is like a voluntary jail. 
friend : india is no better.
me : its not about india dude..its about freeing your mind.


friend : america is the greatest country in the world.
me : only when its trickles down! blood of others..that is.


friend : how much money u got in your bank?
me : -500 dollars.
friend : u seee??
me : what see?? whats your point?

friend : vamsee, you are the only one who remembered me, and came to my marriage, irrespective of financial and social status...
me : friendship is forever, my friend. (with dramatic air)



PRESENT


sister: you are crazy 10 years back..crazy now
me : then, why the hell r u surprised??


Dad : you are crazy then, you are crazy now
me : boooring...
Dad : you know what sharukhan said..
me : he is a loser..dont tell me about him
dad : u better than sharukhan??
me : no. But, you know why you are talking about khan? because he is an actor?? there are much better actors than shahrukhan. But, you only want to talk abt him  because he is rich...stinking rich..and you talk about bill gates, not because he is a good programmer or even a nice human being, you talk about him because, he is rich.you talk greatness about america not because of its liberties or its good things, u talk abt it because it is rich..you talk about narayana murthy because he is rich..u talk about software because it has  money,u eulogize in your mind about buddha and gandhi, but u never talk abt them to me..no you dont! khan can go to hell..I dont care
Dad : LIVE IN REALITY.
ME : wait. Are "YOU" talking about "MY" reality?? THE ONLY REALITY THERE IS --- IS MY HAPPINESS.
dad : Mad people are the most happiest people.
me : the only mad person is the person who wants to control other peoples lives..

dad: marriage...blah..blah..
me : you want to marry off your bad mad son and destroy a woman's life???


sister : A pig loves to live in mud..and it makes it verrrrrrry happy.
me : you got a problem with that..
sister : no..I am just concerned about scabies, ring worm and itching. thats all.
me : dermatologists are there for a reason.

friends,colleagues,acquaintances,relatives,mom,sis,dad : So, u want to start a company, good. Atleast be successful in that. You want to make a movie.good.be successful in that.and make money.
me : I dont care a damn about money and success. I want to enjoy the process. Thats what makes me happy.

friends : what about your kids, wife and responsibilities.
me : I dont think of them as "responsibilities". The best thing you can do for your kids is give love, give direction and then leave them the fuck alone.


relative : you say u dont care about money. Now, u r fighting with me for money. 
me : no, I am fighting for justice.






friend : kya re..please tell me..r u taking drugs.
me : dude..the last time I smoked weed is exactly one year back
friend : u always think different re..u will suffer..this society is cruel..


friends,colleagues,acquaintances,mom,sis,dad: What do you want to do now?
me : I have only one life to live, and I wanna live it fully. I want to create great software, I want  learn film making and make movies, I want to read physics and math..and all the great books, I wanna live with poor, I wanna fish with fishermen, I want to live with rich people, I want to love, I want to sleep, I want to eat great food, I want to travel by trains, I want to meet all the people, I want to write, I want to travel the world and live everywhere, I want to watch movies, I want to smoke some weed, I want to meet great souls,enjoy the music, enjoy the arts, fight for justice, watch the sky, enjoy the rain.I want to live a life. I want to be happy.

(sound of phone hanging up on the other side)



relative : Whats your plan B?
me : There is no plan A in the first place.

people : After 10 years, u will regret.
me : there is a possibility..but I dont want to miss today for that lottery.

me : We all die in the end or in the middle. Today is the only thing that is real.
         follow your heart, right now. Ignore your mind.


FUTURE


majority : We told ya.
me : No. I told ya.


On death bed

friend : this is it, my friend.
me : this is it, my friend.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________


Now, all these people are applauding Aamir Khan's character. You know why? Because, the real human being in them wants to be like him. But they can't, because, society is like jungle..right?? and they want to live like an animal, fighting for survival, living in fears, working from pay check to pay check, dreaming a future but screwing up their present, selling their souls, screwing other people, and losing themselves. When they see a person like aamir's character in real life, oh no, they hate him.They hate his guts. They want to stop him, ridicule him, gossip about him, and finally calling him crazy...because..if they dont call him crazy..thats means they themselves are crazy.

No. I am not on a moral high ground than you. I just want to tell the truth..even if it appears to be immodest. I have to say one thing though, I am no better than anybody. Because, I understand the psychological process which made us what we are. 

A family is a microcosm of the society, and all the battles start from there...and I guess, I just did a public service ;)

But, my dear society, I forgive you for calling me names. Because, I feel bad for you and forgiveness gives me peace. No enemies for me any more.No hard feelings either.
and you know what...


ALL IZ WELL.

Revanche, An Austrian Awesome movie experience, Directed by Götz Spielmann

Boy! Am I glad for watching this movie! People are making good movies these days, and I was wrong when I said something opposite to that.


In my movie watching journey, right now, I am at the stage where I want to watch stuff which doesn't try hard to impress me. Of course, every movie wants to impress you in one way or other. But, its like saying that Gandhi's dressing was in a way a fashion statement. In a way it is true, but, I dont think it comes from insecurities in a person. Rather, it comes from the strength of a person, which is not the case about modern fashions. Well, I believe the same with great movies.


Great movies may not look great or eye catching for the first few minutes, just like meeting a person with depth. Once you start talking to that person, and know more about him, then you may start liking him. There may be some moments where you may even hate him, because he may sometimes act as a mirror to you. This is the exact case with this movie.

I hate to say this, but, it is a movie which is thrilling suspenseful brooding erotic poignant and totally life affirming in the end. And acting.... WoW!...totally top notch.


A man consumed by guilt, a man consumed by revenge, a woman dead, a woman fucks....what a scene it was! It affirmed my belief that life is not a straight line. The bylanes are what life is all about, where you learn something or experience something which may change you for better or worse. The core scene in the movie is such one bylane.

Dont miss this movie, Yo


I want to go and live there, but, I can't. Its too peaceful. I can't live in cities either...I wanna live in the purgatory.

In The Silence Of My Solitude - A Novel (Part 5)

                                         10.Life is a box of chocolates?

Tom hanks in the overrated and diabetic movie, Forrest Gump, says, "My momma always said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." ".

It seemed to me that my mother was saying the same, except, replace the chocolates by mysteries.Life is mysterious and a crooked line. That secret, but public diary was the proof that Life is not a straight line. We want it to be, because, we feel comfortable in a straight line as it takes the least amount of stress. But, just in order to be in that straight line, we do enormous amount of work and experience lot of stress which defeats the whole purpose. We formulate rules and regulations, notions and beliefs; to walk in that line, not only for ourselves but expect the same from others.

Hiding a diary in the guise of a pooja book was that not ingenious, but, still, it needs a certain amount of creativity and audacity to do that. Indian families never knew the meaning of privacy.Hell, even Indian societies never knew the meaning of it. Everyone wants to know about everyone.Especially, the housewives who meet in the afternoons for round-table conferences. The conferences where; facts get twisted, rumours get born, and characters get assassinated. The inspiration for British tabloids. I was once in such unfortunate conference, and I gotta tell you, I wanted to bang my head against the wall, not only because I was bored but also for the fact how their lives became so unfulfilled. Depressing!

Secrecy entices people. My Dad who encouraged me to write a dairy as kid, was caught by me reading the same. From then onwards I stopped writing it. What's the purpose?

People don't search for unhidden stuff. People don't look for boring Stuff. That was the reason behind my mothers idea of a diary. That idea worked. Because, If someone really read it, they really would have gone crazy. It was at once; a romantic mysterious horrific haikus of some sort written by an amateur. It was also something a person could come closest to the thoughts and workings of a woman's mind.

I wish I could translate the whole thing here, but some of those pages are not at all relevant to the story. I am not sure though.

In translation:

Bobby is old and not relevant? What non-sense. It is a classic.It will remain forever.

 

I saw him. Handsome guy. Not fair like rishi kapoor.I am not dimple kapadia either.Mother and father liked him too.

Dowry fixed. Marriage fixed. My life got fixed. My ticket out of this place.

He sent me a letter. It was vulgar.chi. I love him. He is my prince.

I want to dance. Why no one dances here? They show dances only in movies.

I want to hug him. Kiss him. Whats wrong in that?

Life is beautiful. I am in love. I am vey happy. Very very happy.

I am in love. Degree, college over. They dosnt matter anymore.

Nothing matter anymore. My frist love and final love. Forever. Forever.

Waiting for his secret letters. Nothing today. I feel sad. Please write me.Please.

Got his letter. Jumping up and down. Read it like 100 times. My sister laughed at me.Kid. What does she know about love? He gives me soo much happiness. I will give my life to him if he asks for it. He is the wall I am kneeling on. He defines me. I am singing bobby songs the whole day. When not singing I am dreaming. People are saying that I am becoming absent minded. I almost burnt myself. Mother laughed too. She knew how it feels like.

I cant write here what happens to my body when I think about him. It is a pooja book.My sister thinks that I am becoming more devout and religious. Dumb kid.

I wrote his name and looking at it.

My love, every minute looks like a decade

let the time run fast, let the clocks run fast

I want to see you, I want to hug you, my love.

Marriage in one week. I am feeling tense. I am afraid.

Father is talking it as prestige issue. Too much work. Too

many sarees. I love them.

Marriage was grand. Very grand. I was the queen. Every one

said that I was the most beautiful in the world. First night over too.

Why they call it first night? He gave a big lecture on first night. He wants

to know about me, itseems. He talked some english too. I didnt understand

half of what he said. He told every thing about him. I told almost everything

about myself. I am very happy to get such understanding person as husband.It was funny. He didn't follow the poojari muhurtam. Second night I became a woman. Thanks to my friends.They already told me the scene. Becomming a woman is the best thing that could happen to a woman. It was the best.

It is my house. I feel like a queen. I cleaned up the house. Decorated it.

Honeymoon in hyderabad. Very big city. Lot of people. Went to movies.

He embarass me in movies. He doesn't watch them. He watches me. Idiot.

Mother-in-law came. She complains about everything. He always supports me.

She wants a boy it-seems. How is it possible?

I read all the novels. They make me feel good.

Ladies are jealous of me. I am beautiful. Its their problem.

I am pregnant.

Feels good to be a mother. Husband,wife and son. Happy family.

He came late. He is ignoring me.

He is neglecting me. Why? Why? I wore a new saree today.

He didn't notice. I am sad. I have my kid. He became everything me.

My kanna is everything to me. I don't need you.

He brought me flowers and sweets. I am happy.

I am sad sad sad. He is not caring for me. He talks logic and science.

He convinces me in the end. How can I argue with him. How can love be

defined logically. I feel empty. I need support. My son is my only support.

He loves me a lot. My kanna is everything to me.

Why I am feeling this jealousy. Whenever he looks at other women, I feel like

killing him and myself. My blood boils.

He hurts me. He hurts my heart with his words. He is cruel.

I cried.

The college student is sight-seeing me. Why am I feeling happy when

he comes to the house.

He said he loves me. I told him to get out.But,I felt happy.

I noticed my father coming through the gate, and quickly hid the book. He was talking something, but my mind was on to something else. A college student??

A college student!! How could that be possible? How could a mother leave her son for a stupid college student. My heart was beating faster, and the mystery was killing me. My dad didn't notice all that. I looked at my dad, and thought, " I was reading about him. I was reading about this same guy, who is sitting right before me. Its weird!".

We sat before the TV, watching some crap. Everything looked crap. I was not interested in anything. I wanted to read the whole diary, it was like a sneeze and I couldn't stop it. 

" Dad, you are right as usual"

" What? Decided to get married?"

" No, you are right about  sleep"

" What about it?"

" About sleeping early!"

" I don't believe you"

" No, seriously, I wanna sleep early"

" Good night, then", he was not at all convinced.Most probably thinking about a dogs tail.

" Good night", and came to my room and locked it.

Sat down on the bed and started reading.

Some one is observing, Some one is observing us.

I told him about it. He mentioned my periods. I guess so.

No. Some one is there in the house. I can sense it.I feel it.

I can sense the smell. It is a mix of sweet and sour. Some one is in the house.

Some one is definitely hiding in the house.

 

Wait. Where did I hear that word, "sweet and sour". I remembered saying the same thing few days back.What?? What the hell?? 

" My mind didn't play games on me????"

"oh  my  god!", I exclaimed. 

I confess, I trembled a bit. 

Continued here..

'White Pride" of the Dark people in Racist Inc

Racism is endemic on this planet, and aliens in Andromeda galaxy are having a laugh at our expense, looking at our belief that one race is superior than the other, not to mention some other ridiculously held notions. The concept of race is such an old concept that it belongs to the times of Genghis Khan...and also I gotta say that Genghis Khan was a much better warrior than Alexander, but he was passed on in history because of the same reason of race.



If at all there is one country which is comparatively less racist -- it is United States of America, and I believe one of the reason is exposure, and the other is greed. Greed is a common denominator which unites different races. And of course, it will destroy all races, later, without any discrimination.


It is a possibility that it could be proved that one race is intelligent than the other. But, the difference of such intelligence is inconsequential, because, I believe that nurture plays a more important role than the nature.When human beings took a long jump from the primates, they jumped to 10 miles, and a millimetre difference is not much of a consequence,especially; when people argue that   homo sapiens became homo sapiens,because of their intelligence.Even if such intelligence is consequential for the development of societies, I would argue that intelligence is only a part of the human psyche.

India is a Racist country with capital R.Caste system is one such branch of racism that made people  little less than slaves for centuries. People talk about vedas and upanishads, and say that they are the basis of Hindu religion. There are one or two good things in Upanishads, but I refuse to agree that they are the basis of this religion.


You will be surprised to know that most of the Hindu beliefs, notions and customs, had its roots in Manu smrithi. Manu said some good things and a lot of naughty things. Most obvious were the ones talking about lower caste and women. While reading through that book, it was very obvious to me that it was written for the  purpose of male Brahmin domination, through the use of fear, God, kings and merchants. 


Many of those rules are still followed to this day, and made a strong impact on the minds of the Hindus. The rules were passed through generations, not by rote, but by practice. When something is learnt by practice, it works miraculously on the sub-concious mind, making people think that their thinking is natural and real. This is not something unique to Hindusim, its prevalent among most of the religions. Christians are accused of following Bible to the word, and the same accusation can be levelled on Hindus for following manusmrithi, almost word to word, or by action to action.The difference is, most of us  doesn't even know that such kind of rules exist.


On the top of the pyramid was the male brahmin and, in the lowest was lower caste women.
The actors changed, as we have seen in the demolition of brahmin domination, but, the script remained all the same. The script is Manudharma. 


5.147. By a girl, by a young woman, or even by an aged one, nothing must be done independently, even in her own house.

5.148. In childhood a female must be subject to her father, in youth to her husband, when her lord is dead to her sons; a woman must never be independent.

5.149. She must not seek to separate herself from her father, husband, or sons; by leaving them she would make both (her own and her husband’s) families contemptible.
 
 
In one way or other, consciously or sub-consciously, these rules are implemented. Educated women refuse to see this blaring truth, because they refuse to be in the shoes of victim. But, just by being born in India, a woman already becomes a victim. Even if the family is liberal, the society is not.


I am not a feminist, precisely because, I don't agree with lot of things these feminists do in india.
They generalize the whole thing, instead of looking at case by case. There are lot of evil woman (lets say psychologically disturbed) out there, and there are lot of men who suffered because of them. When a woman is repressed, she shows her frustrations on another woman. That is so obvious. The classic case of  MIL-DIL friction comes from those frustrations. Feminists also have this problem about a woman selling her body. Well, I don't have a problem with the woman either  showing her body or using her body for money, except in the 'against their will' cases.


My problem comes when they define  beauty.


This whole back ground was necessary and the whole reason for writing all this, is for that problem of mine. I am talking specifically about Dravidian Lower caste women. An average DLCW is a self hating person, and one of the reason is her dark color, which is looked down as not so beautiful. This is the truth, even if my liberal friends argue with me that times are changing. Times changing....My ASS!


An average dravidian male is also a self loathing person, who is like a dog salivating at a fair looking women. Case in point is the south indian film industry, which for many years is the only sexual outlet for many frustrated men in india.Now, I am not talking about brownish color, I am talking about real dark, the true color of the dravidians.




Why do Dravidian hate their own color?? Did evolution tell them to hate dark? That would be hilarious if it did...because it would be a contradiction because, every one of us has roots in africa, and we were all dark at one point.Of course, it doesn't make dark  any better.


Then why we became into self hating fools?


The only source of that frustration I can find is the Aryan invasion of india. Before aryan invasion, dravidians really did flourish, and I am sure they didnt have this concept of 'fair is beautiful', because they didnt have a  point of reference in the first place. Aryan invasion totally screwed the dravidian people and its culture. Manu talked  about the greatness of aryans about hundred times in the book. They made the dravidians into rakshasas and ofcourse all those rakshasas including Ravana were dark. The only god for Dravidians is Ravana, not Rama. Rama was the person who was responsible for mutilating our sister...if you ask me ;)

People say that invasion happened thousands of years ago and all that. True. But, If Ramayana, which is basically an anti-dravidian story, is still being considered as holy book, then it means that the ramification of that invasion is still present. 

This is not aryans are evil kind of argument...we became a mixed race...and that kind of argument serves no purpose.



Everyone of us Indians, has both Aryan and Dravidian blood in us. And also everyone of us has this bug of "Aryan Power" in our bodies, which is eating away  both our minds and hearts. That aryan bug has been planted hundreds of centuries ago, and to till day, we suffer from it. The aryan bug was planted because we became slaves to our fears of unknown, and which was exploited by using God and religion. It is not about exploitation of one group by another, it is about exploitation of us by ourselves because of that bug. That is the crux of the matter.




In a way, when an Indian  woman is proud of her beauty because of the fairness of her skin, she is basically digging a grave for herself. Because, both her liberation and 'dark' liberation are both related to the same bug...and even the struggle of socially and economic backward classes is linked to the same bug. 


So, Sister, If you are hating a person because of his/her caste, or hating dark color, Basically, you are hating yourself and these rich  educated women must know that their liberation is very much linked with the liberation of that woman who is at the bottom of the pyramid. Didn't sita devi know that the same people and same reasons which punished surpanaka, were the same reasons for which she was also punished. The rules by proud men with an agenda!


The problem : An average Hindu male thinks RAMA is the ideal person. 
The same rama who spent all his life to protect those rules. Tragedy!



I dedicate this song to that oppressed woman who is at the bottom of the pyramid...by the great poet Tupac Shakur.

* Complain against fairness creams (even if they talk about black spots on white faces)...and their ridiculous ads.The purpose is not to stop them..but to put mirrors before the disgusting side of the society..





update : Join the facebook group " Sharukh Khan is a racist sellout". 
              Whats the purpose?? I don't know.

A stupid poem about stupid skoal

it was raining

snow melting

sun hiding

me driving

country music listening

south,birmingham remembering

tobacco yearning

'no, you quit' me saying

'last time' mind replying

me rationalizing

gas station stopping

skoal buying

money wasting

spit forming

smell disgusting

kick getting

kiss failing

Ms hating

projectile dysfunctioning

bad timing

Ms blaming

me escaping

spit floor coloring

me regretting

health spoiling

Addiction is addicting

'last time' me promising

sleep coming

stopped raining

* Ms part is fiction :-)
* Anything in any form is dangerous if done too much.

A blast from the past. University of Alabama at Bham, June 2003

Neural Networks class. Kevin Reily, the professor.
Drinks too much coffee and laughs to his own jokes.
We never understood his jokes, but we liked him.

He was lecturing and I was giggling, unable to control my laughter.
My friends wanted to know. I showed them. They didnt like.

I was reading script of the movie, "The Apartment" by Billy Wilder.

Love you, Billy.

                   THE APARTMENT  

                        by

               Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond




                      
A DESK COMPUTER

A man's hand is punching out a series of figures on the
keyboard.

                         BUD (V.O.)
            On November first, 1959, the
            population of New York City was
            8,042,783.  if you laid all these
            people end to end, figuring an
            average height of five feet six and
            a half inches, they would reach
            from Times Square to the outskirts
            of Karachi, Pakistan.  I know facts
            like this because I work for an
            insurance company --

THE INSURANCE BUILDING - A WET, FALL DAY

It's a big mother, covering a square block in lower
Manhattan, all glass and aluminum, jutting into the leaden
sky.

                         BUD (V.O.)
            -- Consolidated Life of New York.
            We are one of the top five companies
            in the country -- last year we
            wrote nine-point-three billion
            dollars worth of policies.  Our
            home office has 31,259 employees --
            which is more than the entire
            population of Natchez, Mississippi,
            of Gallup, New Mexico.

INT. NINETEENTH FLOOR

Acres of gray steel desk, gray steel filing cabinets, and
steel-gray faces under indirect light.  One wall is lined
with glass-enclosed cubicles for the supervisory personnel.
It is all very neat, antiseptic, impersonal.  The only human
tough is supplied by a bank of IBM machines, clacking away
cheerfully in the background.

                         BUD (V.O.)
            I work on the nineteenth floor --
            Ordinary Policy Department -
            Premium Accounting Division -
            Section W -- desk number 861.
DESK 861

Like every other desk, it has a small name plate attached to
the side.  This one reads C.C. BAXTER.

                         BUD (V.O.)
            My name is C.C. Baxter - C. for
            Calvin, C. for Clifford -- however,
            most people call me Bud. I've been
            with Consolidated Life for three
            years and ten months.  I started in
            the branch office in Cincinnati,
            then transferred to New York.  My
            take-home pay is $94.70 a week, and
            there are the usual fringe benefits.

BAXTER is about thirty, serious, hard-working, unobtrusive.
He wears a Brooks Brothers type suit, which he bought
somewhere on Seventh Avenue, upstairs.  There is a stack of
perforated premium cards in front of him, and he is totaling
them on the computing machine.  He looks off.

ELECTRIC WALL CLOCK

It shows 5:19.  With a click, the minute hand jumps to 5:20,
and a piercing bell goes off.

                         BUD (V.O.)
            The hours in our department are
            8:50 to 5:20 --

FULL SHOT - OFFICE

Instantly all work stops.  Papers are being put away,
typewriters and computing machines are covered, and everybody
starts clearing out.  Within ten seconds, the place is
empty -- except for Bud Baxter, still bent over his work,
marooned in a sea of abandoned desks.

                         BUD (V.O.)
            -- they're staggered by floors, so
            that sixteen elevators can handle
            the 31,259 employees without a
            serious traffic jam.  As for
            myself, I very often stay on at the
            office and work for an extra hour
            or two -- especially when the
            weather is bad.  It's not that I'm
            overly ambitious -- it's just a way
            of killing time, until it's all
            right for me to go home.
            You see, I have this little problem
            with my apartment --

                                            DISSOLVE TO: 

Read the script here.... 

A blast from the past. Birmingham, August 2003

Angry young man days.....
pointless in destiny...everything in journey..

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Subject: Re: Hi
Date: Wed, 13 Aug 2003 18:56:17 -0700 (PDT)

I , Vamsee Krishna Kamana , accept the apology given by the AIS
committee in regards to the issue of discrimination and irresponsibility and
inhumanity and biasedness. I promise to the AIS committee and to the
AIS members and to the whole world wide Indian community that I wont
pursue this matter with the higher officials or in any court.But the
question 'Should the AIS committee stay?’ will be discussed in the AIS news.
meanwhile, As per the discussions between myself and AIS president
***************** ,new consitution will be formed and new members will
be added to the AIS committee. Issues will be discussed in the AIS news
and decisions will be taken.

To the people who are not aware of the glorious AIS committee and the
things that happened 3 months back …the key word might be
‘discrimination’ based upon whatnot…

The last thing I heard was that the graves of Periyar and Ambedkar
were turning after I backstabbed their ideals by compromising with these
so called ‘human beings’.

I promise to the AIS committee that either they stay or I stay in US
of A if they backtrack or backstab me again in this matter. Both are
acceptable to me.

The Machinist -- A Short Story

The company I work for has a story contest.

Rules : start with "The eyes were wide open, as if staring in to her soul"

            end with  "She scrubbed and scrubbed her hands till they were red"

My attempt.

                                                  The Machinist

 

The eyes were wide open, as if staring in to her soul. I was not sure If they were staring in to her soul or looking for a soul. Because, I was looking at a machine. That begs the question, “What is a machine”? Then the corollary question is , “What makes a human, a human”?

 

These questions would not be valid for my great-great-great-grand parents in 21^st century. New questions pop up as time goes on. Old becomes False.New becomes true.

 

After Neo's ignoble death, humans and machines compromised. The matrix was dismantled. In an historic meeting in Antarctica, the only livable outer surface, they exchanged their briefcase, or rather chips. That meeting was a necessity. Humans need Machines. Period. The dependence was mutual.

 

But, problems soon popped up. Increasingly more humans wanted to be machines.  They loved  machine's perfection, personality, professionalism, punctuality and productivity. All the 5 P's humanity was working for, for all the centuries. Its the end of human evolution, humans said. Everyone agreed, including machines.

 

But, again, new problems came. A minority of machines wanted to be Humans. Every one was stunned by that new development. They tweaked the circuits and mother boards and what not, to find the reason behind the desire of these machines. They couldn't find any errors. Big brother, that was what we called the government, went crazy, as he knew that a ocean starts with a drop.

 

They summoned up all the scientists, gave them whatever they wanted, to find out the reason behind this abnormality. After years of research, they came up with a theory. The theory said in one line, that, " It is impossible to create true replica of anything in this universe. That kind of impossibility is built into nature". The machines became furious, as it was an affront to their perfection. The theory implied that it is impossible to build a super machine, which could make replicas of other machines. Humans and machines got together and made the perfect ever intelligent machine and named it as 'Perfecto'. The perfecto took a micro-machine, the smallest machine every made, and replicated it.

 

Initially they were not able to find any differences between the replica and the source,but, after years of scrutiny, they finally found a small error. They tried the experiment again and again, and found errors every time. The theory was proved, and the machines made peace with it. The idea that machines go against nature became old school. Machines reasoned that; they were made within nature, by the materials within nature, and why would the nature treat them as outsiders? True. Humans and machines became prodigal children of the nature.

 

Big Brother decided that it was important to differentiate between humans and machines, and so it was decided to imprint a small code on the right hand palm of every machine. Machines agreed. But, BB was unable to find out the kind of errors which made the machines desire to be humans. They were always on look out for these machines, and they came with the 'criteria of behaviour' to judge such kind of machines.

All my friends, including myself, aspired to be machines. The attraction was unmistakable. We implanted chips under the right hand side of the chest, using 'Do it yourself' surgery tools.Every night, while we slept, data gets downloaded into the chip.The data contained, for most part, suggestions on 'how to be cool'. It suggested on; what dresses to wear, what kind of hair style, clubs to go to, the kind of drinks, music,attitude, behaviour; all the stuff that made us part of the zing thing.

We soon found out that, loneliness was a unique human emotion. It brought us emotional pain. So, we spent all our time in parties, dancing around,drinking, and playing. We had a blast. Even in our sleep we didn't let ourselves alone.After many years of living like that, out of blue, I took my old friend out of the club, and said, " I am not feeling anything".

She asked, "What is feeling?"

On that night, I came home alone and decided not to be machine. I took away the chip. I reached a point of diminishing returns in my journey to be a machine. The next day: the clubs refused entry, my friends stopped returning my calls, every one snickered at me, and I was thrown in to untouchable minority. I tried to implant the chip,but, stopped in the middle. No, I would rather be a lone untouchable than a machine. I decided.

 

I met her on the elevator on my way down to my apartment. I live in a single bedroom with attached kitchen, on the 314^th floor, below the earth. It  takes 5 minutes to reach there on the 'super slow' elevator.

 

I tried to start a conversation with her. She didn't respond, and I sensed a certain kind of  anxiety in her face. Then, I poked her further, and it turned out that I poked a balloon full of water.

She started crying and hugged me.

"why?"

"I feel lonely"

"Go to parties, go to clubs, meet people"

"I feel more lonely among them"

"why me?"

"You look more human than human.You are not cool"

"No. I am cool"

"What do you want?"

"Love"

"What is love?"

"You should know, you are human?"

"who are you?"

"-------------"

"Who are you? Tell me, or I am going to call the police"

"Please don't, please. I am that machine, which hates being a machine"

I looked at her palm, and there it was, the code of machines.

We became good friends after that. We enjoyed each others company, we went out for dinners,

and spent nights in my apartment.Every minute became an heavenly hour.

"What do you want?"

"You. What do you want?"

"You"

She moved in with me.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"This is Love"

"How to quantify it?"

"Lets not quantify it"

We lived happily ever after.

Ever after is ever after in romantic movies. BB came to know about her. Desire to be humans was one thing, but, desire to love humans was an entirely different thing. The simulation showed that it would destroy the authority of BB in future.

On that fateful day, the police started their descent to my apartment. We had exactly 5 minutes. She was scared, and crying hard. I too cried. Fighting with BB was suicidal.

" I don't want to leave you. Help me"

" What can I do?"

" I love you. I love you. I don't want to leave you", she hugged me and cried more.

" What can I do?"

Then, she hit  the wall with her right palm. She wanted to destroy the code, the last visual remnant of her machine status. Then she ran here and there in the apartment, looking for things to erase the code. I sat on the couch watching her. Her anxiety was heartbreaking, but what could I do?

She looked like a scared child. It was as if the moment got frozen in time, me sitting on the couch, and she crying and trying to erase the code. But, what could I do to help her? What could I do to save us?

We had 2 minutes to do something to avoid the police. She took a knife and stabbed herself on the palm. The knife broke and blood started coming out. She cried out in pain. Machines were programmed to feel the pain. The code was still there.

Someone knocked on the door.It was police. I sank down on the couch, feeling weak. I wanted to sleep, and wake up from this night mare. I felt 'more human than human'.

Then, she took out the industrial strength acid from the kitchen and looked at me.

I shouted, "No".

She said, " I love you", and poured the acid on her right hand.

she didn't cry. No tears left. 

She scrubbed and scrubbed her hands till they were red (with blood).

   

                                                  The end