My Writings

“This
is
your
story”
“You’ve
come
early”,
said
Omega
snapping
his
book
shut.
He
got
up
from
the
bench
as
the
brisk
morning
wind
blew
on
his
face.
“Have
I?”
asked
Alpha,
seating
himself
on
the
bench.
Omega
smiled,
but
his
eyes
had
grown
weak
with
helplessness.
Alpha
sensed
something
out
of
place,
so
he
looked
keenly
at
Omega,
observing
every
movement.
Omega
turned
and
swiftly
began
walking
enamalong
the
footpath.
Alpha
continued
sitting.
Sensing
that,
Omega
insisted
“Why
wait,
let’s
go
ahead”.
Alpha
stood
up
surprised
and
followed
him,
struggling
to
catch
up
with
his
pace.
They
walked
along
the
busy
gullies
and
crying
crowds.
They
finally
reached.
Omega
turned
and
said
with
his
smile,
“This
was
where
I
first
met
her”
he
paused
and
looked
at
a
wall.
“This
was
also
the
place
where
I
proposed
to
her”.
Alpha
looked
around
where
he
stood.
In
front
of
him
lay
a
white
washed
wall
with
lush
green
creepers
on
it.
The
creepers
had
tiny
flowers
sprinkled
on
it
in
myriad
of
colors
ranging
from
pure
white
to
crimson
red
to
deep
violet.
To
one
side
was
an
unkept
barren
land
with
wild
bushes
and
one
tamarind
tree.
On
the
other
side
was
an
abandoned
building
whose
hollow
interiors
were
visible
because
its
windows
were
broken.
“This
place
makes
me
so
quiet.
When
I
met
her,
words
felt
the
rankest
of
superfluities.
When
we
met,
we
just
knew
what
we
had
to
say.
So
we
didn’t
say
it
and
just
sat,
looking
into
each
other
eyes”,
said
Omega
seating
himself
on
the
parapet
built
in
front
of
the
building
looking
at
Alpha.
Alpha
was
still
trying
to
imbibe
the
atmosphere
of
the
place.
“Well,
it
is
ironic.
When
we
both
came
here,
neither
she
nor
I
spoke.
But
the
only
time
we
did
speak,
it
was
only
to
tell
her
I
loved
her
no
more”.
Listening
to
this,
Alpha
turned
his
gaze
down
to
Omega
who
was
looking
at
the
mud
on
his
shoe.
Alpha
slid
his
hand
into
his
jacket.
“No,
let’s
not
rush.
That
has
its
time.”
Omega
called
out
pointing
at
the
hand
in
the
jacket.
Alpha,
who
was
picking
out
his
water
bottle,
slid
it
back
into
his
jacket
before
he
could
even
bring
it
out.
Alpha
said
in
his
low
voice,
“My
sister
was
dear
to
me.
She
told
me
she
loved
you.
After
I
got
to
know
you,
I
felt
she
would
be
happy
with
you.
I
was
willing
to
give
her
to
you.
But
you
changed
your
mind.
But
instead
of
telling
her
you…”
“Stop
it
there.
I
had
my
reasons
to
do
what
I
did.
Yes
I
made
mistakes.
But
that
was
no
reason
for
her
to
leave
me.
I
loved
her.
I
still
do.
She
left
me
then,”
said
Omega
sharply.
He
had
lost
his
smile
and
he
stood
up.
Alpha
looked
at
him,
straight
in
the
eye.
He
then
turned
his
gaze
to
the
building
on
his
right.
He
looked
at
the
emptiness
inside.
“So
that’s
where
it
is
going
to
happen?”
asked
Omega
looking
into
the
building.
“Do
you
think
so?”
asked
Alpha.
Omega
put
on
his
smile
again
and
turned
to
the
building.
Alpha
followed
him
as
he
jumped
into
a
window
and
got
into
the
building.
They
stood
inside
a
large
empty
shell
of
brown
and
black
metal.
The
glasses
of
almost
all
the
windows
were
shattered.
The
metal
roof
was
high
above,
looming

around
them
like
a
brown
rusted
sky.
As
they
walked,
their
footsteps
echoed
deeply
in
the
hollow
space
around
them.
“Your
sister
tried
to
get
back
to
me
even
when
I
did
not
want
her
to.
I
was
deep
in
my
own
problems
then.
It
was
bad
time
for
me.
I
had
no
time
for
her.
I
told
her
that.
But
she
was
reluctant
to
listen,”
Omega
proclaimed.
“She
was
sad.
Very
Sad.
That
is
all
I
know,”
said
Alpha
walking
along.
Omega
stopped
walking
and
turned
back
to
look
around.
“So
where
are
we
doing
it?”
“Doing
what?”
asked
Alpha.
Omega
heaved
a
heavy
breath.
“Stop
this
nonsense.
I
know
how
you
want
it
with
your
appreciation
for
aesthetics.
You
want
it
all
like
a
great
story.
You
would
have
built
some
intricate
scheme
to
make
this
all
look
like
a
movie,”
he
said
looking
around.
“Hmmm…”
said
Alpha
startled
by
the
response
and
looked
around
too.
It
slowly
turned
amusing.
He
randomly
picked
an
object
at
a
distance.
He
fixed
his
gaze
at
a
metal
staircase
at
a
dark
corner
that
led
to
a
platform,
about
ten
feet
above
the
dusty
floor
they
were
on.
Omega
said
“Just
like
your
sister”
and
stared
at
the
platform
above.
“I
knew
you
like
things
to
be
dramatic.”
Omega
moved
towards
the
staircase
and
Alpha
followed
thinking
about
what
he
said.
As
they
walked
he
asked
Omega
casually
“Do
you
like
playing
along
my
scheme?”
Omega
did
not
reply.
They
reached
the
staircase
and
a
period
of
looming
silence
prevailed.
Omega
walked
up
the
staircase
and
said
“Your
sister
no
longer
loved
me
when
we
met
the
last
time.
She
was
angry.
I
had
not
seen
her
that
way
ever.”
Alpha
listened
carefully.
“I
had
to
talk
to
her
as
I
wanted
to
get
back
my
things.
In
the
blur
of
love
I
legally
registered
some
of
my
possessions
onto
her
name.
I
needed
them
back
to
settle
the
problems
I
was
going
through.
But
she
did
not
listen,”
said
Omega
as
they
reached
the
platform.
The
two
stood
on
the
dusty
metal
platform.
“When
did
you
talk?”
asked
Alpha
blankly.
He
did
not
know
about
this
event.
“Oh,
you
know
when,”
said
Omega.
“When?”
asked
Alpha.
His
hand
was
shaking
now.
His
heart
steadily
picked
up
speed.
He
sensed
something
dubious.
Omega
sighed
a
deep
breath
and
said,
“When
we
met
at
the
bridge”
twitching
his
shoulders.
“You
were
at
the
bridge?”
asked
Alpha,
now
his
eardrums
moved
with
the
pulse
of
his
heart
and
his
neck
grew
stiff.
“Of
course
I
was
at
the
bridge,”
said
Omega
and
quickly
said
blurted
“I
do
not
want
to
speak
about
that.
Do
you
really
want
to
hear
what
you
already
know?”
Omega
said
chuckling.
Alpha
held
himself
with
grit
and
shot
out
all
his
anguish
in
a
moment.
He
said,
“Yes”.
The
statement
hit
Omega
like
dynamite.
His
smile
collapsed
and
his
eyes
lay
dead
gazing
into
a
void.
After
sometime,
Alpha
spoke,
breaking
the
silence.
“My
sister
committed
suicide.
She
jumped
off
the
bridge
into
the
river.
What
else
do
you
know?”
Omega
stayed
quiet.
Alpha
moved
swiftly
towards
Omega
and
said
holding
his
collar
“Why
did
she
kill
herself?”
Omega
struggled
in
Alpha’s
hold.
“Why
would
she?
Don’t
act
like
a
fool.
She
never
wanted
to
kill
herself,”
Omega
spoke
ferociously.
Alpha
left
him
and
receded.
He
asked
lowly,
“What
happened
at
the
bridge?”
A
fulfilled
wind
blew
through
the
hollow
interiors
raising
the
dust.
Omega
turned

and
moved
towards
the
railing
of
the
platform’s
end.
“What
happened
at
the
bridge?”
Alpha
burst
out
screaming.
Omega
impulsively
broke
out,
“What
do
you
want?
She
started
yelling
at
me
and
I
got
terribly
pissed
and
I
pushed
her
off
and
Lord,
why
do
ask
me
to
tell
you
the
same
thing
again
and
again
and…”
Omega
continued
his
blabber.
A
caustic
pain
rose
through
Alpha’s
chest.
All
he
heard
was
the
pounding
of
his
heart.
His
mind
flashed
images
of
his
dear
sister.
But
in
front
of
him
lay
the
man
who
he
realized
killed
her.
The
wind
picked
up
pace,
and
more
dust
was
raised
into
the
air.
Omega
stared
at
the
floor
underneath
and
said
“I
have
hated
myself
for
all
that
I
did.”
Minutes
of
strained
silence
prevailed.
Suddenly
Omega
heard
Alpha
chuckle
from
behind
him.
Omega
raised
his
head.
“Ignorance
is
sometimes
intolerable.
Its
makes
one
desperate
to
educate
the
other.”
Omega
looked
straight
contemplating
,
listening
to
the
voice
behind
him
in
utter
surprise.
“You
didn’t
know
I
pushed
her,”
said
Omega
stuttering.
Omega
turned
at
once.
As
he
flung
his
shoulder
to
the
other
side,
a
hand
pushed
his
other
shoulder
with
force
and
he
lost
his
stance.
He
slipped
on
the
dusty
floor
and
just
as
his
body
sank,
the
railing
pressed
his
waist,
pivoting
his
body
down
the
platform.
Just
as
his
body
moved
to
throw
itself
ten
feet
down,
with
the
fulcrum
at
the
railing,
two
hands
held
either
sides
of
his
collar,
keeping
him
a
hold
away
from
death.
He
squealed
like
a
cat.
Alpha,
holding
Omega’s
collar,
said,
“Shh…
don’t
shout.
I
had
no
plan
to
do
anything,
but
you
got
me
here
and
ensured
it
happened.
I
came
to
tell
you
it
was
not
your
fault.
I
thought
she
ended
herself.”
Omega
looked
at
Alpha’s
jacket.
“And
you
thought
I
had
a
gun
in
my
jacket.
It’s
a
stupid
bottle,”
Alpha
screamed
shuddering
the
hanging
body.
Omega
shut
his
eyes
in
fear.
Alpha
tightened
the
clasp
of
the
collar.
His
arms
held
the
falling
body
steadily.
“Open
your
eyes”.
Omega
opened
them.
“Now
you
tell
me.
You
got
me
to
do
all
this.”
Alpha
whispered.
He
took
a
deep
breath
and
his
body
relaxed.
The
dusty
wind
steadily
halted.
He
continued
to
speak.
“I
didn’t
know
you
killed
her.
You
told
me.
I
was
only
an
intermediary,
an
excuse.
You
got
me
to
this
place.
You
wanted
to
die.
You
gave
me
the
reason.
You
got
yourself
to
the
edge,
in
every
sense
of
the
word.
You
ensured
all
this
happens.”
He
looked
into
Omega’s
eyes.
Omega’s
eyes
expressed
their
natural
state
of
surrender.
Words
were
too
crude
for
those
moments,
so
they
both
smiled.
Alpha
looked
down
the
platform
towards
the
floor
deep
down.
Alpha,
holding
Omega,
took
a
sniff,
looked
back
and
asked
him,
“Now,
tell
me,
what
should
I
do?
This
is
your
story.”

ECLIPSE
PART
I
Vishwanath
sat
down
on
his
bamboo
chair
and
opened
the
day’s
newspaper.
He
moved
to
support
his
back
and
held
the
newspaper
in
front.
He
struggled
to
read
the
words
but
the
headlines
were
clear
enough.
“Dakshayini,
where
are
my
reading
glasses?”
he
shouted
out
to
his
wife.
“Hmm…
they
were
on
that
book
you
were
reading
last
night”,
she
shouted
out
from
the
kitchen.
“Here,
take
mine”
came
his
mother
Lakshmi,
who
offered
her
spectacles.
It
was
a
known
fact
in
their
relative
circles
that
Lakshmi
had
incredible
eyesight,
while
all
her
five
siblings
had
almost
gone
blind
by
that
age
of
seventy
or
so.
“Thanks
Amma”,
said
Vishwanath
wearing
the
glasses.
He
glanced
through
the
front
page,
opened
the
newspaper
and
a
sudden
loud
bang.
Dakshayini
as
usual
dropped
a
steel
utensil
to
the
floor.
“Amma
please…”
moaned
her
twelve
year
old
son,
Bharath.
Bharath
was
intently
performing
his
morning
prayers,
which
was
a
rare
scene
in
children
of
his
age,
or
generally
anybody
in
an
urban
to
semi-‐urban
livelihood.
“I
cant
do
anything
okay.
You
sit
in
the
middle
of
the
house
and
expect
silence?”
said
Dakshayini
forcefully.
Bharath
ignored
the
comment
and
continued
chanting
his
mantra
softly.
Vishwanath
continued
reading
the
paper,
in
spite
of
the
ruckus
in
the
house.
He
was
use
to
it
for
sure.
Bharath
started
reciting
a
hymn
loudly
and
Vishwanath
softly
murmured
it
with
him
from
behind
his
newspaper.
Lakshmi
sat
on
a
stool
to
the
side
reading
a
red
colored
book
of
a
great
saint.
Bharath
was
concluding
his
prayers
that
Vishwanath
shouted
out,
”Dakshayini,
milk
for
me”.
Bharath
shook
his
head
in
helplessness.
Too
much
noise,
he
thought,
Can’t
the
milk
wait
until
I
complete.
“I’ll
give
you,”
said
Lakshmi
getting
up
and
rushing
to
the
kitchen.
Bharath
got
up,
completing
his
prayer,
and
said
“You
all
love
noise
know”
as
he
poured
the
water
he
used
for
the
prayers
into
the
tulsi
plant
at
the
doorstep.
Vishwanath
smiled
behind
his
newspaper
and
picked
up
a
pen
from
the
stand
beside
him
to
do
the
crossword
of
the
day.
Dakshayini
came
it
to
the
living
room
rubbing
her
damp
hands
to
her
saree,
“Kishore
has
been
admitted
to
the
ICU.
The
cancer
has
spread
to
the
lungs.
Doctors
are
doubtful
whether
he
can
survive”.
Vishwanath
put
his
paper
down
and
blankly
nodded
staring
at
Bharath
who
was
drying
his
hair
with
a
pink
towel.
Vishwanath
had
his
bath
and
got
ready
to
go
to
work.
He
put
his
laptop
into
his
bag
and
walked
out
of
the
house.
“Tell
Dakshayini
I
will
not
come
for
lunch,
Amma,
and
tell
Bharath
to
finish
his
homework”,
he
told
his
mother
leaving.
Bharath
finished
his
math
homework
with
a
calculator.
Just
when
he
wanted
to
watch
TV,
the
power
went
off.
He
had
no
idea
what
he
could
do
now.
So
he
blankly
sat
beside
his
room’s
window
staring,
thinking.
He
had
some
big
questions
to
be
answered.
He
tried
remembering
what
he
thought
about
earlier.
One
question
that
tormented
him
was
whether
all
the
prayer
that
he
did
in
the
morning
had
a
meaning.
It
was
not
whether
there
was
God
or
not.
The
question
was
whether
that
big
man
up
there
affected
him.
Everybody
around
him
said
he

did.
When
asked
how
they
would
simply
smirk
in
helplessness.
It
was
disgusting
for
him.
All
that
he
saw
as
esoteric
and
religious
around
him,
made
no
rational
sense.
But
the
prayer
in
the
morning
was
nice.
It
gave
him
a
sense
of
satisfaction,
and
surely
a
good
image
in
relative
circles.
But
Truth
is
not
limited
to
the
nice
and
the
liked.
He
needed
an
answer.
He
was
desperate.
His
thoughts
continuously
tried
crystallizing
to
direct
onto
an
answer,
but
all
crystallization
was
rough,
never
concrete.
As
he
tried
to
do
so,
suddenly
“Bharath,
are
you
hungry?”
shouted
his
mother.
“Not
hungry”
he
shouted
back.
He
got
up
from
his
chair
and
walked
into
the
living
room
in
which
sat
Lakshmi
with
the
Panchangam
or
the
book
that
tells
the
movement
of
planets
on
an
hourly
basis
for
that
year.
He
sat
beside
her
and
asked
“Lakshmi
(he
called
her
by
name,
but
not
out
of
disrespect),
does
the
Panchangam
tell
the
future?”
Lakshmi
removed
her
spectacles
and
said
closing
the
book,
“Not
exactly
Bharath,
but
if
you
know
how
to
interpret
it,
you
can
tell
the
trend
of
events.”
“Trend
meaning?”
asked
Bharath.
“See,
I
may
say
you
will
win
today.
But
I
can’t
say
whether
you
will
win
a
cricket
match
or
a
chess
match.
It
only
tells
the
nature
and
intensity
of
the
event,
not
the
exact
event.”
Bharath
kind
of
understood
that.
“What
is
the
reason?”
he
asked
sharpening
his
gaze
at
her.
“Bharath,
these
things,
like
astrology,
prayer,
ritual,
do
not
follow
the
logic
we
both
understand
with
our
minds.
This
needs
logic
of
a
different
nature.
We
don’t
know
that
logic,
and
I
don’t
think
any
of
us
can.
So
lets
just
derive
the
benefit
we
can
from
tool
given
to
us
and
not
ask
how
they
made
the
tool.
Okay?”
she
answered
with
a
scholarly
attitude.
This
explanation
did
not
fit
into
Bharath’s
way
of
thinking.
He
was
more
or
less
use
to
such
misfits
now.
His
questions
were
directed
at
how
the
science
works,
and
not
how
one
could
churn
benefit
out
of
it.
But
he
still
trusted
what
she
said.
It
all
still
was
not
mumbo-‐jumbo.
It
did
work
in
his
mind.
“So
how
is
my
day
going
to
be?”
he
asked
leaning
forward
towards
the
book.
Lakshmi
gave
a
bright
smile
and
said,
“Let’s
see”.
She
opened
the
book,
opened
a
folded
sheet
in
it
with
Bharath’s
and
his
parent’s
horoscopes.
She
put
the
page
in
front
of
her
eyes
in
one
hand
and
ran
her
hand
around
the
chart
in
the
book
on
her
lap.
Lakshmi
saw
for
sometime
and
suddenly
her
expression
started
changing.
“What’s
today’s
date?”
she
asked
without
lifting
her
head.
Bharath
ran
to
the
newspaper,
checked
and
called
it
out
to
her.
She
nodded
and
continued
checking.
“Hmmmm…”
she
said
removing
her
spectacles.
“Today
is
a
lunar
eclipse,
and
the
eclipse
is
occurring
in
your
star.
So
if
you
are
exposed
to
the
eclipse,
it
may
or
may
not
have
effects
on
you,
but
it
will
have
tremendous
effect
on
you
father,
Bharath.
Such
a
positioning
of
planets
would
have
adverse
affects
on
your
father.
If
the
eclipse
affects
you,
it
will
indirectly
affect
him,
as
the
aspects
in
your
chart
that
symbolize
your
father
are
not
in
a
good
shape
today”.
She
lifted
her
head
helplessly
looking
at
his
face.
She
turned
the
pages
of
the
book
to
check
her
notes
at
the
back
of
the
book.
She
abruptly
continued.
“And
the
effect
may
be
so
big,
my
son,
he
may
die.
This
is
the
worst
positioning
I
have
seen
in
years.
This
has
clear
indications
of
a
father’s
death
in
your
chart.
You
being
exposed
to
the
lunar
eclipse
will
make
it
certain.
This
is
no
joke
Bharath.
Take
it
seriously.”

Lakshmi
was
almost
shivering
now.
Bharath
had
never
seen
her
like
this
before.
He
was
drawn
by
her
intensity,
and
the
certainty
she
spoke
with
showed
all
she
said
was
no
joke.
It
was
serious
business.
Surely
serious
as
it
dealt
with
one’s
life.
His
father’s
life.
Her
son’s
life.
It
was
time
for
the
sun
to
set.
The
sky
started
turning
bright
white
from
blue.
It
was
time
for
Bharath’s
evening
prayers.
Bharath
had
a
shower
and
sat
for
his
prayers.
The
sky
had
got
closer
to
grey
now.
His
grandmother
also
sat
beside
him
as
he
continued
with
the
prayers.
He
looked
at
the
sky
from
the
window
beside.
As
he
faced
north,
the
sunrays
passed
through
window
onto
his
head
at
this
time.
But
the
sky
turned
dark
grey
and
the
sun
was
nowhere
to
be
seen.
As
he
proceeded
chanting
his
hymns,
there
was
a
sudden
shuddering
of
thunder.
His
grandmother
got
up
suddenly.
He
thought
it
was
to
remove
the
clothes
hung
outside
to
dry.
He
continued
but
his
mind
did
not
remain
stable.
It
kept
flying
away
with
thoughts.
He
could
not
figure
out
the
reason.
Another
thunder
and
it
started
raining.
It
was
dark
now.
The
house
was
gloomy
as
the
lights
were
off.
He
ardently
tried
to
complete
his
prayers
without
letting
his
mind
fly
away
in
thoughts
but
it
was
randomly
jumping
around
like
a
drunken
monkey
that
stepped
on
fire.
The
rain
became
violent
now.
Bharath
finished
his
prayers.
He
got
up
and
went
outside
to
pour
water
into
the
plants.
Just
before
he
could
step
out
of
the
house,
something
pulled
him
back.
He
figured
out
what
was
tinkering
in
his
mind.
His
father’s
death.
If
he
got
out
of
the
house,
his
father
would
be
dead.
This
got
him
afraid.
But
the
remedy
was
simple.
Don’t
go
out
of
the
house.
Then
why
was
the
mind
worried?
He
didn’t
know.
Bharath
left
his
thoughts
there
and
walked
back,
without
stepping
out
of
the
house.
He
sat
on
a
stool
and
waited
for
his
mind
to
settle
down.
Just
then
a
cry
was
heard
from
the
street.
“Bharath!”
shouted
somebody.
He
looked
up
startled.
“It’s
me,
Nanna,
Help!”
Bharath
got
up
with
start.
He
went
up
till
the
door
and
stood
on
his
toes
to
see
till
the
end
of
the
road.
“Bharath!”
cried
out
his
father
who
was
down
in
the
water
till
his
shoulders.
“I’m
in
the
manhole,
help!”
Bharath
was
scared
now.
What
should
he
do?
He
has
to
go
get
his
father
out
of
the
manhole.
Or
else,
his
father’s
going
to
fall
into
the
manhole
and
die.
Simple
problem.
Adrenaline
rushed
through
body.
But
his
heart
felt
heavy.
Something
was
not
in
place.
The
hormone
over
took
his
thought
and
he
lifted
his
leg
to
put
it
out
of
the
house.
The
same
old
force
pulled
him
back.
His
heart
suddenly
lightened.
He
got
the
dilemma.
His
father
is
in
the
manhole.
If
he
does
not
go
to
save
him,
death
is
certain.
The
rain
was
torrential
now.
His
father
again
screamed.
But
if
he
did
step,
what
his
grandmother
told
will
happen.
Due
to
him
being
exposed
to
the
ongoing
lunar
eclipse,
his
father
will
be
affected,
and
thus
he
will
die.
If
he
remains
at
home,
father’s
dead
for
obvious
reasons.
If
he
goes
out,
his
father’s
dead
for
supernatural
reasons.
This
hit
him
hard.
And
from
this
conflict
emerged

a
cold-‐hearted
person,
inside
the
house,
who
would
put
ideals
to
a
test,
at
the
cost
of
a
life.
He
would
step
out
to
save
his
father.
If
he
did,
and
did
save
his
father’s
life,
all
that
occult
stuff
he
was
surrounded
by
at
home
was
bullshit.
It
was
a
test
to
the
question
he
was
haunted
by.
The
truth
in
all
religion
and
related
practices
that
worked
with
the
same
assumption
of
a
God
Almighty
influencing
us
all
was
at
the
crossroads.
A
determined
Bharath
put
his
foot
outside
his
house
and
ran
out.
His
heart
was
beating
louder
than
the
chatter
of
raindrops
around
him.
He
ran
straight
to
his
father
barefoot
and
his
clothes
were
already
soaked.
He
reached
his
father
who
was
bleeding
near
his
chin,
pulled
him
up
and
dragged
him
home.
He
reached
the
doorstep
and
his
father
was
lying
there
motionless.
Bharath,
remembering
his
first-‐aid,
gave
Vishwanath
a
hard
kick
in
his
diaphragm,
and
with
a
start
he
woke
up,
coughing,
wounded,
but
fully
alive.
Lakshmi
walks
to
the
door
murmuring,
“Bharath,
Kishore
uncle
just
passed
away.
He
had
a
major…”
and
she
saw
Vishwanath
on
the
doorstep.
Before
Bharath
knew
it,
she
called
Dakshayini,
she
called
the
neighbors,
they
called
the
doctor,
and
in
twenty
minutes
Vishwanath
lay
on
his
bamboo
chair,
with
a
bandaged
chin
and
twenty
others
around
him.
Bharath
stood
at
the
side,
involved
with
himself,
in
spite
of
all
the
chaos
around
him.
He
got
an
answer.
His
father
was
very
much
alive.
What
his
grandmother
told
did
not
come
true.
All
that
was
esoteric
had
lost
its
credibility.
His
face
developed
a
slight
smile.
This
event
concluded
a
number
of
things:
his
prayer
was
a
waste
of
time,
Panchangam
was
a
waste
of
paper,
and
astrology
was
just
a
play
of
words
and
who
the
hell
needed
a
God
who
didn’t
matter.
It
was
crystal
clear.
What
he
saw,
what
could
be
tested,
comprehended,
understood
is
what
exists.
Anything
else
is
not
real.
Thus
all
that
was
supra
mundane
was
not
true.
Maybe
in
parts
it
was.
But
the
basic
assumptions
of
religion
did
not
fit
into
this
framework.
Thus,
religion
was
flawed.
Finally,
why
create
an
entity
called
God
that
does
not
matter
to
any
of
us
in
any
true
sense.
Just
an
inconsequential
assumption.
Just
as
he
stopped
thinking,
as
he
got
his
mind
set
right,
he
looked
up
to
see
his
mother
beside
Vishwanath
and
suddenly
caught
onto
what
she
said:
“Thank
God,
it
was
only
a
chin
that
is
bruised”.
A
wave
of
disinterest
and
disgust
ran
through
Bharath.
He
shouted
out
“Why
do
you
get
that
god
fellow
in
the
middle?”
PART
II
It
was
the
same
old
bamboo
chair
with
Vishwanath
in
it.
Only
that
Vishwanath

was
twenty
years
older
and
beside
him
sat
Dakshayini,
holding
his
hand.
Lakshmi
was
no
more
and
about
ten
people
slowly
moved
around
the
house.
Vishwanath
was
seriously
ill
and
at
an
age
of
about
seventy,
the
body
cannot
take
that
much
pain.
And
that
caused
complications,
and
caused
ulcers
in
his
stomach.
They
later
burst
and
he
was
hospitalized.
The
doctors
said
at
that
age
they
cannot
do
anything
and
left
it.
So
they
brought
Vishwanath
back
home
and
everybody
was
just
waiting
for
him
to
pass
away.
A
thirty-‐two
year
old
Bharath
sat
beside
the
door
staring
outside.
A
neighbor
came
jogging
in
and
gave
a
piece
of
sweet
to
Dakshayini,
telling
her
to
give
it
to
Vishwanath,
as
it
was
prasad
from
a
temple.
Seeing
this,
Bharath
breathed
out
heavily
in
helplessness.
If
god
really
was
sensible,
why
would
he
send
sweet
that
would
worsen
the
condition
in
his
stomach,
he
thought.
Bharath
got
up
and
walked
into
the
living
room.
“Bharath”
moaned
Vishwanath,
struggling
to
speak
loudly.
Bharath
at
once
moved
to
him
and
sat
on
a
stool
beside
him.
Vishwanath
took
a
heavy
breath,
clasped
Bharath’s
hands
in
his
and
said,
“There
is
something
I
have
hidden
from
you
all
your
life
Bharath.
Only
your
mother
and
I
know
this.
Nobody
else
knows
this.
There
is
no
point
telling
this
to
you
now,
but
you
needed
to
know
the
truth.”
A
tear
trickled
down
Vishwanath’s
cheek.
“What
is
it
Nanna?”
asked
Bharath
humbly.
Dakshayini
clasped
Vishwanath’s
shoulder
and
asked,
“Does
he
need
to
know?”
softly.
Vishwanath
closed
his
eyes
shut
and
nodded.
He
swallowed
some
air
and
said,
”You
are
not
our
son,
Bharath.
You
are
the
son
of
my
friend
who
had
an
illegitimate
child
with
a
woman
he
loved.
He
gave
that
boy
to
us
as
your
mother
and
I
did
not
have
children
for
a
long
time.
I’m
sorry
I
didn’t
tell
you
this
earlier.
Forgive
me
for
this.
I’m
sorry
Bharath”.
Vishwanath
clasped
Bharath’s
hand
harder
and
tightened
his
closed
eyes
revealing
the
tears
filled
in
his
eyes.
“Why
are
you
so
disturbed,
Nanna?
You
are
more
a
father
to
me
than
anybody
else
could
have
been.
It
doesn’t
matter
who
gave
birth
to
me
Nanna,
it
was
you
who
guided
me
and
protected
me
all
my
life.
You
are
my
father.”
Said
Bharath.
It
did
not
disturb
Bharath
a
bit.
Vishwanath
had
given
him
everything
but
a
sperm.
But
curiosity
caught
up
in
his
mind.
“Who
is
my
fath…sorry…
biological
father
then?”
Vishwanath
whispered
the
name.
Suddenly,
Bharath
froze.
He
was
shocked.
The
problem
was
not
that
somebody
else
was
his
father;
it
was
what
that
person
implicated.
All
that
he
strongly
believed
throughout
his
life
was
not
making
sense
now.
All
that
he
vehemently
opposed
was
now
in
a
new
light.
It
all
seemed
to
be
real.
All
his
thoughts
against
the
esoteric
were
shattered
by
just
that
one
revelation.
That
which
he
thought
as
a
lie
had
passed
the
Test.
The
Test
he
performed
twenty
years
back.
The
results
were
exactly
as
his
grandmother
predicted.
Bharath’s
eyes
turned
keen
and
a
single
tear
fell
right
down
his
face.
He
stared
blankly
at
the
wall
in
front.
A
flood
had
just
cleared
all
the
assumptions
he
made
about
the
universe.
His
ideals
had
just
crumbled
into
a
void.
From
those
ruins
emerged
a
new,
strikingly
different
understanding
of
the
universe.
He
got
up
and
stood
at
the
doorstep
of
his
house,
staring
out,
looking,
and
thinking,
with
a
crystallized
understanding.
No
answer,
but
a
path
had
opened.
All
he
knew
now
was
that
he
was
Kishore’s
son.

CRUMBLING
KRUMMER
“My
limbs
were
weak,
my
throat
was
dry,
and
my
eye
ached
as
I
struggled
to
complete
the
code.
The
screen
in
front
was
so
bright
that
my
eyes
were
turning
red.
At
four
in
the
morning,
I
was
the
only
one
working
in
my
room.
But
hard
work
does
pay
off,
my
friend.
I
completed
the
code.
And
I
call
it
Krummer…”
continued
David
Krum
bragging
about
the
new
chess
program
he
made.
He
must
have
told
it
to
at
least
twenty
people,
and
by
this
time
he
knew
the
lines
by
heart,
knew
how
a
person
would
react
when
he
told
a
particular
sentence
and
he
did
this
with
matching
movements
of
his
spectacles
on
and
off
his
eyes,
and
scholarly
motion
of
his
hands.
In
no
time
the
whole
university
knew
about
Krummer.
It
was
an
incredible
program
and
all
the
people
who
tried
to
win
against
it,
lost
miserably.
David
himself
could
never
win
against
it.
He
was
ready
to
literally
sell
it
to
the
Computer
Science
department.
So
with
utter
confidence
and
slight
drunkenness
he
proclaimed
on
the
notice
board
of
the
university:
“The
one
who
wins
against
Krummer
will
get
all
the
money
I
receive
when
I
sell
it
to
the
Computer
Science
Department,
but
if
one
looses,
he
will
have
to
pay
the
same
amount
the
department
pays
me.”
And
the
money
David
spoke
of
was
no
small
amount.
It
was
equivalent
to
a
tuition
waver.
Nobody
rose
to
meet
his
challenge
for
about
a
week
and
then
three
came
up.
One
was
a
former
chess
champion
who
lost
a
very
close
game.
The
second
was
the
head
of
the
Mathematics
Department.
She
lost
a
miserably.
The
third
was
somebody
nobody
heard
of
in
the
university.
Some
knew
his
first
name
was
Mark.
Nobody
knew
his
second.
He
heard
of
the
Krummer
challenge
(that’s
what
everybody
called
it)
when
he
was
in
the
restroom
and
two
others
were
talking
about
it.
He
knew
what
was
on
stake
but
he
really
didn’t
care.
Mark
thought
he
was
too
clever
for
university.
He
attended
classes
just
to
keep
his
attendance
at
a
bare
minimum.
He
completed
assignments
the
day
he
got
them,
mailed
it
to
the
professor,
with
comments
on
the
assignment,
and
went
out
bike
riding
at
night.
He
always
got
a
B
at
his
examinations,
and
was
happy
with
that.
He
knew
what
he
wanted
in
life
and
worked
for
that.
The
rest
of
time
was
spent
with
a
bottle
of
coke
and
his
motorbike.
David
heard
Mark’s
challenge
and
told
him
to
get
ready
for
the
game
in
a
week
at
seven
in
the
morning.
Time
passed
like
a
good
night’s
sleep
and
it
was
the
day
for
the
game.
Mark
was
told
to
come
to
the
red
bench
(reserved
for
senior
citizens)
in
the
park
behind
the
library.
Mark
got
up
at
seven
o’clock,
went
to
the
bathroom,
brushed
his
teeth
and
washed
his
face.
He
came
out
of
his
room
and
walked
down
the
aisle
to
the
hostel
door.
He
came
out
of
the
hostel,
wearing
his
blue-‐striped
pajamas
and
light
blue
t-‐shirt.
Barefoot,
he
walked
on
the
cold
stone
footpath.
With
the
morning’s
small
chill
embracing
his
body,
he
stretched
and
yawned.
He
jogged
lightly
to
his
destination
and
reached
the
park.
He
could
see
a
group
of
about
fifty
people
on
the
other
side
of
the
park.
He
jogged
till
there,
and
as
he
reached
there

he
heard
people
whispering
several
questions
asking
essentially
the
same
two
things,
why
he
didn’t
come
on
time
and
whether
he
prepared
for
the
challenge.
Mark
smiled
brightly
without
uttering
a
word,
as
he
did
not
do
both.
He
came
late
and
unprepared.
But
in
what
sense
was
he
unprepared
he
thought,
as
he
walked
to
the
red
bench
on
which
David
was
seated
with
a
laptop
on
his
lap.
Mark
was
unprepared
in
the
sense
that
he
played
his
last
game
of
chess
about
a
year
back.
But
surely
he
did
have
strategy.
A
strategy
no
one
could
have
perceived.
As
he
seated
himself
on
the
seat
and
viewed
the
swarm
of
people
coming
closer
around
him,
he
thought
through
his
strategy.
David
smiling
gave
Mark,
who
too
was
smiling,
the
laptop
with
a
virtual
chessboard
on
it.
David
sat
back
as
if
he
were
watching
a
movie.
David
gestured
to
Mark
that
he
could
start
playing.
Mark
shrugged,
cracked
his
knuckles
and
played
his
first
move.
Suddenly
a
couple
of
people
around
cracked
into
laughter.
He
moved
the
pawn
in
front
of
the
right
rook
one
step
forward.
This
is
the
classic
example
for
a
bad
chess
opener.
After
computer
played
a
move,
he
moved
the
same
pawn
he
moved
one
step
forward.
Another
foolish
move.
Move
after
move,
he
played
foolish
moves.
David
Krum’s
smile
turned
larger
with
every
move,
but
Krummer
was
in
turmoil.
Krummer
was
built
to
play
against
the
best
of
moves.
But
not
the
worst.
It
didn’t
understand
what
Mark
was
doing
and
with
every
other
bad
move,
it
steadily
lost
track
of
the
game.
It
was
never
built
to
understand
the
worst
move.
Mark
turned
Krummer’s
greatest
strength
into
its
weakness.
And
after
about
twenty
minutes
it
gave
up,
its
code
could
no
more
understand
Mark’s
stupidity.
An
unusual
pop-‐up
came.
David’s
extremely
wide
smile
suddenly
fell
blank.
The
crowd
had
turning
heads.
Mark
sat
back
in
the
way
David
sat
back
earlier.
A
girl
just
behind
Mark
tweeted
“Mark
wins
against
Krummer!”

That…
...off
of
the
staircase
and
just
as
he
reached
his
hand
to
the
door
nob,
the
shrill
rumble
of
the
daily
machinery
sighed
out.
The
power
was
out.
He
rolled
the
nob
with
his
sweaty
hands
and
flung
the
door
forward.
He
stepped
into
his
house
and
pushed
the
door
behind
his
back.
It
closed
by
disturbing
the
silence
boldly
for
a
moment.
He
approached
his
bed,
dropped
his
bag
by
it
and
breathed
out
deeply.
As
he
breathed
the
brisk
cold
air,
he
looked
around.
He
seated
himself
softly
on
the
bed.
The
dark
room
only
had
white
beams
of
streetlight
streaking
through
the
room,
giving
the
room
just
enough
illumination
to
distinguish
things.
The
bed
sheet
warped
by
the
press
of
his
bottom.
He
was
not
finding
him
anywhere
around.
Just
then
a
slight
rumble
of
a
plastic
container
emerged
into
the
air.
He
looked
right
at
the
direction
of
the
sound.
He
found
himself
staring
at
the
vague
image
of
a
closed
bathroom
door.
A
strained
silence
prevailed,
which
was
only
broken
by
the
slight
sound
of
footsteps
approaching
the
bathroom
door.
“You
there?”
he
called
out.
The
silence
continued
without
a
sign
of
loosening
up.
He
leaned
toward
the
door,
just
in
case
he
could
perceive
anything
else.
The
silence
relaxed
for
just
a
moment,
felt
by
the
most
attentive
of
moments.
He
twitched
his
shoulder
to
lift
his
hand
to
knock,
that
a
voice
inside
called
out
“Yah…
I’m
here.”
He
dropped
his
hand
in
conclusion
and
turned
his
back
to
the
bathroom
door.
“What
are
you
doing
in
there?”
he
asked
moving
toward
his
bag.
A
moment
of
uneasy
quiet
prevailed.
“The
door
is
stuck.”
He
went
into
a
wry
laughter.
“How
did
you
manage
that?”
he
asked
with
a
glee
smile
on
his
face,
crouching
by
his
bag
on
the
floor.
He
searched
for
the
slider
of
his
zip
in
the
dark.
After
finally
finding
the
slider
he
realized
there
was
no
answer
to
his
question.
“Why
aren’t
you
talking?”
he
called
out
unzipping
the
bag.
“I’m
not
feeling
good”
was
heard
after
a
perceived
moment
of
hesitation.
“What
happened
now?”
he
asked.
He
waited
for
the
answer,
as
he
got
accustomed
to
the
delay.
He
picked
out
his
laptop
from
the
bag
and
placed
it
on
the
warped
bed
sheet.
There
was
no
sign
of
an
answer
now.
He
looked
up
sternly
to
the
bathroom
door
and
as
he
walked
up
to
it
he
said,
“What
is
wrong?”
louder
than
normal.
Instantly
there
was
a
reply.
“I’m
unwell.
Just
attending
to
my
self”.
“Cold
or
something?”
he
asked
observing
the
different
texture
the
voice
had
taken
to.
“Yah”,
after
the
usual
momentary
delay.
He
got
unto
the
bed
and
clutched
his
laptop.
Holding
the
laptop
in
mid-‐air,
he
pushed
himself
back
to
the
back
of
his
bed.
His
bottom
pulled
the
bed
sheet
back,
removing
it
out
of
the
fold
it
was
tucked
into.
As
he
switched
on
his
laptop,
he
bent
back
to
the
bag
to
grab
the
charger.
He
connected
the
chord
to
the
laptop
and
felt
for
the
plug
as
he
looked
through
his
books.
As
he
ran
his
fingers
in
the
dark
along
the
chord,
he
reached
the
end

connected
to
the
laptop.
In
frustration,
he
ran
his
fingers
in
the
opposite
direction
and
finally
reached
the
plug.
He
held
it
and
pushed
it
into
the
socket.
Just
under
the
socket
on
the
ground
was
a
bright
white
light.
The
light
shone
directly
upwards
aiming
at
him.
He
reached
out
to
it
and
unturned
it.
It
was
a
phone.
He
brought
it
close
to
him
and
saw
that
a
video
was
being
recorded.
He
instinctively
stopped
the
video
recording
and
went
to
see
the
media
files
to
watch
the
video.
“Your
phone
was
on
the
ground,”
he
shouted.
“Hmmm…”
He
played
the
video
but
in
front
of
him
lay
the
image
of
only
the
roof
obstructed
in
the
frame
by
only
the
side
of
the
bed.
As
he
paid
attention
to
the
video
to
spot
any
changes,
a
silence
settled.
In
the
looming
quiet
he
heard
soft
sounds
from
the
mobile.
It
was
the
audio
of
the
video.
He
tried
increasing
the
volume,
but
it
was
at
its
maximum.
He
looked
around
for
a
moment
and
then
bent
toward
the
side
to
reach
out
to
the
inside
of
his
bag.
He
hunted
for
his
earphones
and
finally
picked
them
out.
A
gushing
sound
of
water
was
heard
from
the
bathroom.
“Your
fine
now?”
he
called
out.
“Kind
of”
He
plugged
the
jack
of
the
earphones,
lodged
them
into
his
ears
and
tried
listening.
He
heard
unclear
murmurs
but
the
voices
were
clearly
distinct.
Two
different
voices.
“Your
complete
conversation
is
recorded
on
your
phone.
Whom
are
you
talking
to?”
he
shouted
casually.
He
continued
listening
a
in
a
moment,
as
he
heard,
he
grew
stiff.
A
sudden
shudder
of
a
hollow
plastic
cup
hitting
tiled
ground
was
heard
from
the
bathroom.
The
occasional
silence
regained
its
place.
He
looked
into
a
void.
“Whom
were
you
talking
to?”
he
asked
again
plainly.
No
answer
came
out.
With
a
moment
a
hesitation
he
said
louder,
“Did
that
fellow
come
home?”
dislodging
his
earphones.
There
was
silence
and
silence
only.
He
looked
straight
into
the
semi-‐dark
looking
blankly
at
the
silhouettes
emerging
as
he
stared.
He
breathed
deeply
and
asked
sternly
“Did
you
call
that
fellow
home?”
There
was
a
slow
shivering
of
leaves
heard.
He
waited
for
a
reply
but
none
came.
He
knew
there
would
not
be
a
reply.
“That
fellow
tried
to
bash
you
up
in
the
morning.
You
know
the
reason.
That
fellow
simply
apologizes
and
you
both
shake
hands.
And
in
no
time
you
both
party
at
home.
You
know
I
hate
this,”
he
roared.
He
wasn’t
expecting
an
answer.
He
respected
the
fact
there
wasn’t
a
counter
explanation.
Just
then
he
remembered
something
strange.
As
he
stared
into
the
lessening
darkness,
he
called
out
“You
said
the
door
was
stuck”.
A
slight
sound
of
a
crawling
door
bolt
was
followed
by
“Yah…it
is”.
He
shook
his
head
in
denial
and
continued
working
on
his
laptop.
As
he
worked
he
looked
around
in
the
light
of
the
laptop
screen
for
a
book
he
needed.
He
lifted
the
laptop
with
his
left
hand
and
looked
around
his
lap
if
there
was
anything.
His

book
was
in
his
bag.
He
sighed
in
frustration
and
sagged
his
bottom
to
his
right
pulling
the
bed
sheet
with
his
movement
towards
his
bag
by
the
bed.
He
held
his
laptop
in
his
left
hand
and
threw
his
right
one
down
the
bed.
He
moved
it
to
and
fro
until
it
reached
his
bag
in
the
dark.
He
grappled
for
the
opening
and
his
bag
tilted
and
it
stumbled
away
a
little.
He
hummed
a
cartoonish
tune
of
despair
and
stretched
his
hand
toward
the
bag
into
its
opening.
The
laptop
was
lifted
right
above
his
head
now.
He
sagged
his
back
to
the
edge
of
the
bed
to
reach
out
to
the
book
that
he
figured
was
in
the
depths
of
the
bag
in
the
dark.
He
looked
into
the
dark
room,
only
indulging
in
the
hazy
sensation
of
touch.
The
heavy
laptop
was
now
tilting
his
upheld
hand
towards
the
right,
straining
his
shoulder.
He
pushed
himself
a
moment
longer
and
finally
grasped
the
book.
He
just
wished
it
were
the
right
book.
He
lifted
his
hand
in
the
bag
into
the
little
space
in
it,
off
a
firm
ground.
And
in
no
time
did
his
elbow
twitch
to
gain
support
and
his
body
tumbled
down
the
bed
to
balance.
His
laptop
with
his
hand
flung
like
an
arc
and
the
weight
of
it
made
him
to
leave
the
laptop.
As
a
final
instinctive
hope,
his
left
hand
held
onto
the
loose
bed
sheet,
which
got
pulled
out
like
the
flowing
beauty
of
the
night.
In
utter
silence
his
right
shoulder
thud
the
ground,
giving
a
moment
of
hatching
pain
in
the
middle
of
his
ribs.
His
laptop
clung
to
ground
facing
the
bed
on
the
old
carpet
floor.
His
eyes
were
shut
all
through
and
all
he
felt
was
the
hard
ground
and
the
bundled
up
bed
sheet
over
him
held
by
his
hand.
He
released
a
painful
breath
and
simultaneously
opened
his
eyes.
In
front
of
him
was
the
bright
screen
of
his
laptop,
whose
light
pierced
through
the
darkness
towards
the
underneath
of
the
bed.
He
elbowed
the
ground
with
his
right
hand.
The
smooth
bed
sheet
ruffled
down
to
his
left
and
he
was
terrified.
In
front
of
him
lay
a
face
with
wide-‐open
eyes,
eyes
filled
with
relieved
hope
but
an
iota
fatal
fear.
The
white
light
of
the
laptop
illuminated
his
face,
with
cloth
tied
up
against
his
mouth
and
a
bruise
near
his
left
eye.
With
brute
force
he
nudged
his
hand
into
the
face’s
mouth
and
struggled
to
pull
out
rolled
cloth.
He
finally
pulled
out
the
gobbled
piece
of
damp
cloth
and
it
followed
a
deep
breathe
through
the
mouth.
“You’re
fine?”
he
asked.
“Yah…”
was
the
reply
in
a
gasping
voice.
“Why
didn’t
you
tell…or…mm
mm…
at
least
indicate
you
were
underneath?”
he
asked
in
hushed
but
caring
voice.
The
sudden
struggle
of
limbs
made
him
see
four
limbs
tied
to
the
four
legs
of
the
bed,
down
in
the
dark
of
the
under-‐bed.
Suddenly,
memory
struck
him.
“I
thought
you
were
in
the
bathroom
but
your
mouth
was…”
he
said,
as
he
grappled
to
approach
the
bed’s
foot
to
untie,
with
an
inquisitive
stare.
After
a
rugged
cough
an
answer
came
out.
“No…that
fellow
is
in
there.”
He
froze.
There
was
a
sudden
crackling
sound
of
glass
on
ground,
and
it
resounded
in
the
empty
space.
He
lifted
himself
with
a
start
and
pushed
himself

off
the
carpeted
floor
with
all
his
fours
towards
the
bathroom
door
passing
through
the
streaks
of
white
streetlight
in
the
dark
room.
He
heard
a
grappling
sound
from
the
bathroom
and
he
pushed
violently
against
the
door.
It
was
locked.
He
took
a
few
steps
backward
and
there
was
a
flicker
of
the
light
bulb.
He
rammed
into
the
door,
unhinging
the
bolt
off
the
wood
and
flinging
the
door
open.
The
power
cam
back
and
the
light
shone
again.
After
a
momentary
dazzle
of
light,
he
saw
a
body
ultimately
slipping
out
of
the
ventilator
up
near
the
roof,
whose
glass
panes
were
removed.
He
rushed
toward
it,
placed
his
leg
on
the
blue
ceramic
commode
and
pushed
himself
up
to
reach,
jumping
up
high
as
he
extended
his
hand
to
grab
that…

ARTICLE
1
I've
always
suffered
from
an
inferiority
complex.
Not
from
a
mundane
aspect
like
power
in
a
group
of
people
or
a
person
or
a
petty
little
thing.
And
I
am
not
sad
because
what
I
am
inferior
to
what
deserves
to
be
superior.
She
surely
is
a
beauty.
She
is
so
intricate
that
man
has
always
looked
at
her
for
help,
both
for
raw
material
and
inspiration.
Material,
she
has
lots,
and
best,
she
does
not
ask
anything
in
return
for
what
we
ask.
Inspiration,
she
has
inspired
the
most
inspirational-‐
artist,
poets,
musicians,
and
many
others.
But
the
only
problem
is
she
is
covered
with
a
cloak.
A
cloak
I
call
ignorance.
Our
species
is
surely
a
bunch
of
ignorance
lovers.
At
least
most
of
them.
We
like
to
the
leave
the
cloak
on
her
(we're
lazy).
But
a
handful
was
daring
enough
to
try
to
expose
her
and
try
to
remove
the
dark
cloak
and
show
her
true
pure
self.
The
process
of
removing
her
cloak
I
call
science.
And
the
beautiful
maiden
is
Nature.
Science
is
simple
and
has
a
single
point
agenda-‐
"drive
out
ignorance".
The
rest
my
friend
is
simple.
All
you
have
to
do
is
look.
Nature
is
pouring
out
at
your
feet.
From
the
microorganisms
under
your
feet
to
the
Darkness
of
the
Cosmos,
all
these
are
a
part
of
a
single
entity-‐
Nature.
And
we
are
lucky
she
follows
certain
guidelines.
But
sometimes
the
guidelines
are
too
large
and
govern
the
majestic
drifts
of
Galaxies.
And
sometimes
too
small
and
govern
the
extremely
jarred
movement
of
electrons.
And
we
try
to
uncover
these
guidelines
and
we
give
the
method
an
unneeded
stylish
name-‐Physics.
All
of
nature's
aspects
interact
with
each
other.
All
of
its
elements
interact.
Sometimes
violently,
while
sometimes
constructively.
These
interactions
are
seen
and
recorded
into
a

study
called
Chemistry.
Now
an
amalgamation
of
these
guidelines
with
the
interactions
of
elements
has
produced
a
feat
never
before
seen
in
the
universe.
The
most
beautiful
creation
Nature
has
made,
with
the
most
detailed
processes.
It
has
surely
taken
time
(lots
of
time)
but
patience
surely
pays
off.
The
creation
was
Life.
With
her
own
mysterious
and
still
unknown
reasons,
Nature
has
given
life
something;
something
nothing
else
has
in
the
universe
-‐
Freedom.
Freedom
to
live,
to
grow,
to
feel,
and
to
make
choices.
And
the
reason
and
the
way
it
came
into
existence
with
the
processes
it
performs
is
what
Biology
is
all
about.
It
is
simply
the
search
for
How
&
Why
life
came
to
be
and
What
life
does
and
Can
do.
So
what
you
suppose
to
do?
Get
up,
run
out
and
start
looking.
Be
curious,
ask,
discuss
and
most
importantly-‐
feel
the
harmony
of
Nature
and
nurture
it,
protect
it.
Because
it
has
beautifully
crafted
itself
with
the
most
beautiful
of
methods
and
most
intricate
of
details.
And
I
am
sure
after
experiencing
the
magnificence
she
has
attained
and
still
the
exquisite
attention
she
has
held
for
petty
little
things
like
us,
it
is
simple
why
I
suffer
an
inferiority
complex
from
Nature.
ARTICLE
2
A
2004
Company
founded
in
a
Harvard
dorm
room
is
presently
the
largest
billion-‐dollar
company
on
earth.
What
made
it
click?
An
extremely
petty
weakness
of
man:
insecurity.
A
constantly
lingering
question
in
our
minds:
"what
will
others
think?”
And
Facebook
gives
answers
to
that.
Its
mass
appeal
is
due
to
the
fact
that
it
tells
you
what
your
"friends"
think
about
you.
Nostradamus
prophesied
about
a
web,
which
would
cover
the
earth
by
the
end
of
the
20th
century.
And
surely
the
time
has
come.
The
social
networking
bug
has
spun
a
web
into
almost
all
our
lives
and
penetrates
into
almost
every
aspect
of
our
world
in
whatever
magnitude.
Though
I
have
spoken
a
little
blatantly
about
networking
sites,
I
will
now
the
neutral
stance
and
talk
of
two
observations
I
have
had
about
them.
The
first
is
a
tremendous
advantage,
which
is
the
rate
at
which
information
is

communicated.
I
am
talking
about
spreading
a
piece
of
information
to
a
huge
population
extremely
fast.
I
am
talking
about
words
like
viral
marketing,
which
are
employed
by
films
like
The
Dark
Knight
Rises
or
Inception.
The
best
example
is
the
song
we
here
every
where
these
days:
"Why
this
Kolaveri
di?”
A
silly
Tanglish
song
is
presently
racing
to
become
the
most
watched
YouTube
video.
But
how
did
this
happen?
It
is
due
to
these
portals
like
Facebook,
which
makes
everybody
into
what
Malcolm
Gladwell
in
his
book
Tipping
point
calls
a
Connector.
Connectors
are
people
with
large
number
of
acquaintances.
Gladwell
wrote
this
book
before
the
surge
of
social
networking
sites
when
only
a
handful
of
people
had
large
number
of
acquaintances.
But
with
such
a
website,
everybody
has
at
least
a
hundred
people
in
their
"friend's
list"
and
thus
makes
everybody
a
connector.
Social
epidemics
spread
wildly
in
such
sites
as
once
you
share
information,
100
people
know
it,
and
if
it
is
nice,
all
the
other
100
share
it
with
their
100
friends.
I
one
block
of
sharing,
10100
got
to
know
about
that
piece
of
information.
So
the
first
point
is
the
advantage
social
networking
sites
give
us
in
the
spread
of
data
in
the
public.
The
second
is
a
much
more
dangerous
issue
we
have
in
hand.
I
heard
a
joke
in
which
a
man
claims
he
is
on
Facebook
all
night
because
he
puts
a
textbook
on
his
face
and
sleeps.
But
I
think
we
are
slowly
nearing
such
a
situation
where
we
do
not
greet
when
we
see
each
other
but
openly
shout
out
wishes
on
Facebook
statuses.
We
put
a
book
on
our
faces
leading
life
ignoring
each
other's
presence.
A
report
a
few
weeks
a
report
back
suggests
that
a
large
proportion
of
divorces
are
occurring
due
to
people
being
suspicious
of
what
their
spouse
does
on
networking
sites.
The
problem
is
can
be
stated
in
a
much
more
clear
form:
sites
that
should
be
opening
our
worlds
are
slowly
weakening
our
interactions
with
human
beings.
We
are
slowly
entering
an
age
where
we
have
digital
self
and
respond
only
to
that.
A
recent
Hindi
film
"Mujhse
Fraaandship
Karoge?"
is
a
film
about
to
people
who
fall
in
love
on
a
social
networking
site
and
each
of
them
discovers
that
who
they
fell
in
love
with
actually
is
not
as
good
looking
and
as
they
claim
to
be
on
the
website.
The
virtual
self
they
created
is
the
picture
the
world
see
of
them.
This
can
be
extremely
dangerous
as
the
intrinsic
behaviors
of
human
beings
and
the
details
of
their
relationships
are
slowly
lost.
The
beauty
of
a
human
interaction
is
killed
and
we
end
up
icing
in
a
small
burrow
with
extremely
minimal
information
about
a
huge
number
of
people.
So
the
second
and
an
extremely
dangerous
situation
we
are
heading
to,
is
the
adoption
of
a
virtual
self
of
a
social
networking
site,
which
will
destroy
the
joy
of
a
natural
inter-‐personal
interaction.
Akshar
7/2011

Occult
Deciphered
Prologue
William
Strauss
stood
in
front
of
one
man
with
a
gun
pointing
at
the
former.
Strauss,
charged
with
murder,
was
on
the
execution
ground.
The
full
moon
light
illumined
both
the
men's
faces
and
a
dozen
men
a
few
feet
away
were
looking
on
the
execution.
"What
has
he
been
up
to?”
one
of
the
onlookers
asked
another
"He
believes
he
has
some
supernatural
powers,
he
thinks
he
is
some
Messiah.
Claimed
the
murder
was
a
sacrifice
to
make
God
come
down
to
earth."
The
onlookers
stared
waiting
and
a
man
asked
Strauss
if
he
had
any
last
wishes.
Strauss
replied,
"Something
terrible
awaits
you
men,
great
peril
in
a
spark
of
fire,
but
the
Lords
will
always
bow
down
to
Him
one
day,
which
is
soon
to
come.
I,
the
messenger,
do
not
wait
for
death
in
your
hands
as
it
is
written
only
in
His.
And
remember,
great
peril
lies
in
a
spark
of
fire."
The
man
received
his
nod
and
he
positioned
his
finger
on
the
trigger.
He
added
weight
on
the
trigger,
ounce
on
ounce,
it
reached
the
breaking
point
and
just
a
moment
before
the
bullet
left
the
barrel,
Strauss
shouted
"Now"
and
the
Gunman
was
ablaze
with
terrible
flames
feeding
on
his
bloody
flesh.
Couple
of
onlookers
fainted
and
everyone
was
awestruck
by
what
happened
seconds
earlier
and
they
found
Strauss
had
disappeared
into
thin
air.
I
David
Letterman
looked
out
side
his
window,
staring
at
the
fast
moving
cars
and
trucks
from
his
room
on
the
14th
floor.
Retired
as
a
Sergeant
from
the
U.S.
Navy,
he
studied
Psychology
and
Martial
Arts
in
his
Bachelor
Studies
at
Oxford
and
Forensic
Sciences
in
his
Masters
at
Harvard.
He
was
never
interested
in
research
but
the
only
reasons
for
him
being
drawn
to
such
subjects
were
his
interest
in
investigation.
His
interest
in
crime
stories
and
their
solutions
came
as
a
young
boy
when
he
read
stories
of
Agatha
Christie
&
Arthur
Canon
Doyle.
He
was
now
professionally
a
detective
but
he
even
earned
money
by
giving
tuitions
to
children
in
sciences.
He
had
no
thirst
for
splendid
wealth
and
wanted
a
simple
but
comfortable
life.
He
walked
away
from
the
window
and
went
into
the
kitchen
and
made
some
Coffee
for
himself
and
came
out
and
sat
on
this
couch.
He
was
sipping
the
coffee,
watching
random
shows
on
his
Television
that
his
phone
started
to
ring.
He
picked
it
up
and
he
heard
a
lady's
voice.
"Mr.
Fredrick
wants
you
in
his
office
in
an
hour
sir";
she
said
and
hung
up
the
phone.
David
thought
for
a
minute
whether
he
had
to
go
and
then
slowly
got
up
and
left.
II
Tom
Sterling,
a
voracious
reader,
was
reading
a
book
when
he
got
a
text
from
an

unknown
number:
"Thou
will
reach
Him".
Sterling
brushed
it
off
thinking
of
it
as
one
of
the
Personality
Empowerment
programs
by
the
Local
Churches.
Sterling's
flat
was
in
a
building
with
no
walls
but
only
glass
panes
that
people
could
have
a
complete
view
of
Central
Park
for
their
homes.
He
heard
a
sudden
banging
on
his
wooden
door.
He
opened
the
door
and
no
one
was
there.
Sterling
sat
back
on
his
couch.
He
kept
reading
the
book
and
suddenly
in
front
of
him
laid
William
Strauss.
"Very
well
then,
it's
time
for
some
revenge
-‐
Movimento,”
said
William.
Sterling's
couch
flung
back,
hit
the
glass
panes
and
fell
down
onto
the
ground
with
the
cracked
glass
from
144
feet.
III
Fredrick
was
an
important
officer
in
NYPD,
but
David
did
not
know
his
exact
rank
but
he
was
quiet
a
senior
officer.
David
reached
Fredrick's
office
and
while
he
was
entering
the
building
Fredrick
was
leaving.
"Fred",
David
called
out.
"Come
with
me,
I
have
to
talk
to
you”
said
Fred
walking
hurriedly
to
his
Land
Rover.
David
and
Fred
got
in.
Fred
started
driving
and
said
"Remember
Strauss,
the
madman
who
killed
a
fifteen
year
old
kid
last
week,
he
escaped
from
the
execution
grounds
and
used
his
'powers'
and
burnt
down
the
executioner.
An
hour
back
Tom
Sterling,
head
of
Sterling
Industries,
was
found
dead.
He
fell
from
his
flat
on
the
15th
floor
onto
the
road.
Strauss
left
a
message
that
he
did
it
and
that
there
was
more
to
come.
Forensics
say
his
body
contains
no
evidence
of
contact
with
any
person
for
about
10
hours
before
his
death
and
he
only
thing
he
touched
minutes
before
his
death
was
a
cell
phone
and
the
book
found
with
his
body
on
the
road.
This
man
is
bloody
driving
me
nuts".
The
two
men
reached
the
crime
scene.
The
road
was
blocked
and
the
outline
of
the
body
was
on
the
ground
as
the
body
was
removed
earlier.
David
looked
up
and
he
saw
a
tall
building
with
a
flawless
sheet
of
glass
but
a
single
obstruction
due
to
a
patch
of
broken
and
cracked
glass.
"Is
that
his
House?"
asked
David.
"Yup"
answered
Fredrick.
They
both
went
up
to
the
Sterling's
flat.
The
flat
was
partially
empty,
as
Sterling
had
just
shifted
into
that
house
a
week
back.
The
two
searched
the
whole
house
for
any
clues
but
everything
seemed
normal.
David
started
examining
the
floor.
He
suddenly
called
out
"Hey
Fred,
Take
a
look
at
this."
Fred
came
and
they
saw
two
parallel
lines
of
scratches
engraved
in
the
wooden
flooring.
They
started
it
the
middle
of
the
room
and
went
up
till
the
shattered
wall
edge.
"Could
be
the
couch
was
dragged.
The
base
could
have
scratched
the
ground
and
made
these
lines."
said
David.
"No
fingerprints
on
the
couch
man"
replied
Fredrick
in
denial.
He
looked
at
his
watch
and
he
saw
that
the
seconds
needle
was
stuck.
It
kept
vibrating
in
its
position
and
occasionally
moved
forwards
or
backwards.
He
asked
Fred
the
time
and
it
was
fifteen
past
six.
He
had
to
hurry,
he
was
getting

late
for
his
tuition
class.
IV
David
was
teaching
a
14-‐year-‐old
kid
about
Magnetism.
"Magnetic
fields
are
the
regions
magnets
have
their
affect,”
said
David
"The
earth
has
its
own
field,
everything
in
the
field
is
attracted
toward
the
North
or
South
Pole
of
earth
and
that
is
how
Compasses
work.
High
magnetic
fields
can
spoil
devices
like
computers,
television
or
even
watches
like
mine
now………."
and
David
suddenly
paused.
He
stood
up
with
a
start
and
told
the
kid
his
class
was
up.
The
partially
asleep
child
got
up
and
went
out.
David
gave
a
call
to
Fred
and
told
him
to
come
to
Sterling's
Flat.
V
Fred
entered
the
flat
and
saw
David
continuously
searching
for
something.
"Why
did
you
call
me?"
asked
Fred.
"I
figured
it
out,
the
couch
flung
out
due
to
a
magnet
somewhere.
This
Mag
Field
detector
is
roaring
with
signals
but
I'm
not
able
to
locate
the
source,”
said
David.
Fred
understood
nothing.
David
slowly
bent
towards
the
ground
and
a
small
nickel
coin
fell
on
the
floor
slipping
out
of
his
pocket.
The
coin
moved
a
little
forward
and
suddenly
took
an
instant
turn
to
a
side
and
accelerated
towards
a
point
and
stopped
suddenly
there.
David
took
the
field
detector
close
to
the
coin
and
the
field
was
unbelievably
high
and
the
signals
were
literally
screaming.
David
immediately
ran
out
of
the
flat,
took
the
staircase
to
the
lower
floor
and
rang
the
bell
of
another
flat.
Fred
followed
and
came
beside
him
and
asked,
"What's
wrong?”
"I
need
to
get
into
this
Flat
now,
right
above
this
Flat
is
Sterling's."
said
David.
He
rang
the
bell
twice,
then
another
time
and
out
of
irritation,
Fred
kicked
the
door
and
it
flung
open.
David
smiled
and
in
front
of
them
laid
a
feat
of
engineering.
Two
parallel
rails
on
the
roof
holding
a
large
Nickel
cylinder
with
bare
wire
wrapped
around
it.
David
took
a
chair
nearby
and
examined
the
mechanism.
He
pushed
the
cylinder
and
the
cylinder
moved
along
the
rails.
The
two
ends
of
the
bare
wire
were
connected
to
a
switch
on
the
wall.
David
pulled
out
a
coin
out
of
his
pocket
and
asked
Fred
to
turn
press
the
switch
of
the
mechanism.
As
soon
as
he
switched
it
on,
the
coin
flung
into
the
air
and
got
stuck
onto
the
cylinder.
"Beauty",
David
exclaimed.
VI

It
was
pouring
in
New
York
and
the
storm
showed
no
sign
of
retrieval.
Alicia
Harrison
was
continually
trying
for
a
taxi
but
she
was
not
able
to
find
one.
She
crossed
one
block
and
at
last
found
one
taxi
parked
a
few
feet
away.
She
sat
inside
and
the
driver
started
driving.
The
windows
were
up
and
driver
felt
strange.
Alicia
then
got
a
text:
"Thou
shall
attain
peace".
Before
she
could
register
what
it
said,
she
looked
up
and
she
skipped
a
heartbeat.
In
front
of
her
lay
William
Strauss.
"Strauss,
Your
dead."
"Am
I?"
"Your
a
Butcher?"
said
Alicia
crying.
"Aren't
you?
It's
time
we
end
this
pitiful
conversation-‐
Soffochi."
Alicia
was
worried
for
a
moment
that
it
was
a
harmful
spell
but
there
was
no
affect.
She
smiled
but
suddenly
exaggerating
pain
appeared
in
her
chest
and
her
vision
blurred.
She
coughed
vigorously.
She
saw
a
hand
waving
goodbye
at
her
and
her
dead
corpse
fell
along
the
back
seat
of
the
moving
taxi.
VII
"What
the
hell
are
you
up
to?"
asked
Fred.
"I'll
explain,”
said
David
"
This
large
Cylinder
is
an
Electromagnet.
When
we
press
the
switch,
it
turns
into
a
magnet.
These
rails
allow
the
cylinder
front
and
back
along
the
roof.
Now
when
the
Magnet
or
the
Cylinder
is
at
the
end
of
the
rails,
away
from
the
window,
right
above
it
is
Sterling's
couch.
Sterling's
couch
has
a
base
made
of
Iron.
When
the
magnet
is
switched
on,
the
Magnet
just
a
foot
below
attracts
the
Iron,
across
the
flooring.
When
the
magnet
is
moved
along
the
rails
towards
the
window,
the
Couch
a
feet
above
is
attracted
by
it
and
too
moves
towards
the
magnet's
position
below
and
thus
towards
the
window.
When
we
move
the
electromagnet
extremely
fast,
the
couch
above
too
moves
towards
the
window
very
fast
and
even
when
the
Electromagnet
is
stopped
on
the
rails,
the
couch
above
cracks
the
glass
and
falls
down
due
to
its
inertia.
When
Sterling
was
on
the
couch,
someone
was
downstairs
pushing
this
extremely
strong
magnet.
No
great
magic,
just
simple
science"
said
David,
smiling.
"Thank
god
you
attended
your
science
classes,”
said
Fredrick
laughing.
Fred's
phone
rang
and
he
picked
it
up.
"Shit,
A
corpse
of
a
lady
found
in
a
taxi,”
Fred
shouted
after
a
few
seconds
of
conversation
on
the
phone.
VIII
David
and
Fred
reach
the
Taxi
and
in
it
lay
a
corpse
of
a
middle-‐aged
lady.
"How
did
she
die?”
asked
David.
"No
idea"
said
Fred.
"An
onlooker
said
two
got
down
from
the
taxi
and
left
behind
the
dead
corpse."

Fred
examined
the
Car
and
he
slowly
recognized
a
pungent
small
prevailing
in
the
car.
He
called
out
to
David.
David
came
and
smelt
the
whole
car
like
a
dog
searching
for
food
and
the
onlookers
laughed
their
guts
out
to
what
David
was
doing.
He
atlas
found
the
source-‐
the
air
conditioning
vents.
A
lady
came
to
Fred
from
the
Forensic
Department.
"Forensics
say
the
victim
died
of
suffocation."
she
said.
"Get
me
litmus
paper
from
the
Forensics"
David
asked
the
lady
hurriedly.
She
ran
and
got
two
strips
of
paper-‐
one
blue
&
one
red.
He
took
both
of
them
and
placed
them
in
front
of
the
A/C
vents.
He,
Fred
&
the
lady
looked
at
the
strips
of
paper
closely.
The
Red
paper
stayed
the
same
but
in
a
few
seconds,
the
blue
papers
edge
slowly
turned
red.
After
a
minute
or
so,
half
the
strip
was
red,
identical
to
the
other
strip
of
paper.
The
lady
exclaimed,
"It
is
acidic
up
there".
"Clever
Girl"
said
David.
"I
have
no
idea
what
is
happening
up
here.
Explain
please,”
Fred
said
desperately
to
David.
"These
litmus
paper
turn
Blue
from
Red
if
they
are
in
contact
with
anything
Alkaline
but
turn
Red
from
Blue
if
they
are
touching
something
acidic."
said
the
lady
"So
we
have
something
acidic
around
the
vents,”
said
David.
"Check
the
cooler
could
be
releasing
acidic
fumes.
That
could
have
killed
the
victim,”
said
Fredrick.
"And
the
victim's
name
is
umm…
Alicia
Harrison",
he
continued.
A
man
went
under
the
car
and
one
the
Cooler.
David
went
down
and
took
a
couple
of
Blue
Litmus
with
him
and
put
them
on
the
inside
of
the
cooler
and
the
dozen
of
strips
turned
Red.
David
came
out
and
dust
dusting
his
hand,
"The
whole
bloody
cooler
is
acidic".
The
lady
moved
near
the
corpse
and
saw
a
cellphone
fallen
under
a
seat.
She
picked
it
up
and
checked
the
messages.
The
latest
text
said:
"Thou
shall
attain
peace".
She
showed
it
to
Fred.
"That
madman
did
it,”
said
Fred
showing
the
text
on
the
phone
to
David.
"We
found
such
voodoo
sentences
even
on
Sterling's
phone
in
his
flat".
David
shouted,
"Track
the
caller".
"No
use
out
of
it,
the
two
phones
have
been
destroyed
and
do
not
exist
and…
you
lady,
who
are
you?"
said
Fred.

"Amanda
Stewart,
sir"
said
the
lady.
"Fred,
that
guy
will
text
the
other
victim
too.
Do
we
have
information
about
the
other
two
destroyed
phones?"
"Yes”-‐answered
Amanda.
"Get
to
know
where
they
war
bought"
ordered
David.
Amanda
went
running
to
a
caravan.
"David,
if
Strauss
too
was
in
the
car,
he
too
was
exposed
to
the
acidic
fumes.
He
couldn't
have
worn
a
mask
or
else
the
lady
would
never
get
in.
How
could
Strauss
survive?"
asked
Fredrick.
"Umm………
I
don't
know,”
replied
David.
Amanda
came
rushing
and
said,
"The
two
phones
were
bought
by
the
two
different
men
in
two
different
shops,
and
both
are
not
related
in
any
way
possible."
"Give
a
call
to
one
the
contacts,”
said
Fred.
Amanda
dialed
the
number
and
gave
it
to
Fredrick.
Fredrick
kept
waiting
for
the
man
to
pick
up
the
phone
and
at
last
he
did:
"Hello"
said
a
shrill
voice.
"Hello
sir,
we
are
calling
from
NYPD
and
we
wanted
to
enquire
about
a
cellphone
you
bought
three
weeks
back
at
store
two
blocks
away
from
your
house."
"Oh
yes,
I
lost
that
phone.
Went
to
get
some
groceries
and
lost
it
at
the
router
while
I
was
billing."
"When
did
this
happen
sir?”
"Last
Week"
"Thank
you
sir"
David
said,
"bet
this
is
the
same
story
with
the
other
guy"
and
it
was.
Amanda
said
"If
both
of
them
lost
their
phone
in
the
same
grocery
store
on
the
same
day,
we
should
check
their
CCTV
Tapes."
IX
Amanda,
David
&
Fred
left
to
the
grocery
store.
They
entered
the
store
and
went
to
the
manager
of
the
store.
The
manager,
a
dark
&
huge
man
with
a
bloated

voice,
said,
"
How
can
I
help
you
people?"
"We
need
to
look
at
your
CCTV
Tapes,”
said
David.
"Sorry
sir,
but
their
confidential"
said
the
man
nodding
his
head,
side
to
side.
"Please
sir,
its
an
issue
of
security"
said
Fred
"Sorry"
he
said
again
nodding.
Amanda
got
frustrated
and
pulled
out
her
gun
pointing
it
at
the
manager's
head.
"You
show
us
the
tapes
or
I
pull
the
trigger"
The
manager
said
with
a
cracking
and
shivering
voice,
“We
can't
say
no
to
a
lady
right?”
The
three
men
in
the
room
were
awestruck
seeing
Amanda
Stewart's
response.
The
manager
took
the
trio
to
a
dark
room.
The
room
was
filled
with
cartons
of
CD's
and
Floppy's
with
one
small
1970's
Television
set
in
the
middle
and
five
chairs.
They
ran
through
the
tapes
with
people
continuously
moving
on
the
screen
and
in
the
they
saw,
there
were
three
items
stolen
from
the
shop
without
billing
and
the
manager
tried
to
hide
his
face
when
such
a
thin
happened.
Fred
kept
sniggering
looking
at
the
kinds
of
people
but
David
&
Amanda
were
continuously
looking
at
the
screen
searching
for
any
cellphone
burglary.
After
ten
minutes
of
investigating
the
Tapes
they
caught
it
they
found
a
young
kid
pickpocketing
a
man's
cellphone
while
the
latter
was
at
the
counter.
In
the
next
five
minutes
they
found
two
such
burglaries
by
the
same
young
kid
with
different
people
as
victims.
Fred
slowly
got
interested
in
the
process
after
looking
at
the
kid's
face.
It
was
extremely
familiar.
It
was
a
boy's
face.
He
had
seen
it
earlier.
He
was
continually
struggling
to
remember
and
thence
got
it.
It
was
the
boy
who
was
killed
by
Strauss
a
week
back.
"David,
its
the
same
guy
Strauss
killed
last
week."
shouted
out
Fred.
"We
have
to
go
and
meet
his
parents,”
said
Amanda.
X
Amanda
got
out
of
the
car
waiting
for
Fred
&
David
to
get
down.
The
three
went
up
to
a
small
house
and
David
rang
the
bell.
A
middle-‐aged
woman
came
out.
"We're
from
the
Police
ma'am
and
we
are
here
to
talk
about
your
son."

She
took
the
three
inside
and
seated
them
in
the
hall
while
she
called
her
husband.
"Sir,
we
just
wanted
to
know
whether
your
son
had
any
affiliation
to
William
Strauss?"
asked
Fred.
"No,
why
would
a
man
like
his
own
murderer?”
answered
the
husband.
"Sorry
sir,
but
it
looks
like
your
son
was
close
to
Strauss
before
his
death".
"Yes,
he
was"
said
a
voice
from
the
background.
It
was
the
voice
of
the
kid's
brother,
Thomas.
"What?"
said
the
wife.
"Dan
was
close
to
Strauss
for
about
2-‐3
weeks
before
he
died.
Dan
used
to
him
in
his
house
two
streets
away."
said
Thomas
"Take
us
to
his
house"
said
David
getting
up.
XI
Amanda,
Fred
&
David
waited
outside
the
Strauss'
house
for
30
seconds
that
Fred
broke
the
lock
and
went
into
the
house
out
of
frustration.
All
of
them
searched
for
some
clues
on
what
Strauss
was
going
to
do
next.
Fred
entered
the
basement
of
the
house.
After
a
little
observation,
it
was
clear
it
was
a
laboratory.
He
called
David
and
they
two
searched
the
explored
the
basement
while
Amanda
was
upstairs
in
the
house.
David
kept
looking
and
he
found
designs
of
the
mechanism
he
saw
in
the
flat
below
Sterling's.
The
designs
were
so
intricately
designed
that
it
felt
like
Strauss
was
a
Genius.
While
David
was
busy
understanding
the
designs
and
prototypes,
Fredrick
was
getting
a
familiar
odor.
He
followed
it
and
his
guesses
were
right.
It
was
the
smell
of
the
acid
in
the
taxi.
The
source
of
the
smell
was
from
a
small
flask
labeled:
Hydrofluoric
acid
(HF).
"Hey
David,
this
man
used
Hydrofluoric
acid
in
the
taxi
cooler"
said
Fredrick.
David
did
not
respond.
He
kept
looking
at
a
design
made
by
Strauss.
It
was
a
gun,
which
could
deceive
even
the
best
ammunition
expert.
The
most
intricate
of
machines
David
had
seen,
it
was
an
engineering
marvel.
"We
need
this
guy
in
our
military
research
centers
man"
said
David
to
Fred
and
the
latter
sniggered.
Just
then
Amanda
came
running
down
into
the
basement
and
said,
“I
found
the
other
victim's
number,
it
was
there
in
Strauss’
diary".
"Track
the
number
immediately"
cried
Fred.

They
came
out
of
the
house.
The
three
were
waiting
in
the
car
for
conformation
about
number's
location.
Amanda
got
a
call
and
she
said,
"Five
blocks
away,
fast".
Fred
started
the
car
and
accelerated.
They
were
there
in
three
minutes.
The
three
got
down
and
searched
but
there
was
no
a
trace
of
Strauss
or
anything
strange.
XII
John
Hathaway
was
waiting
for
his
car
to
come.
He
stood
on
the
pavement
and
kept
waiting.
After
about
ten
minutes
he
got
tired
standing
and
went
and
sat
a
bench
a
few
feet
away.
Beside
him
was
a
man
reading
the
newspaper.
Once
that
man
put
down
the
newspaper,
John
gasped
heavily.
"Strauss"
he
said.
"Yes,
that's
me,”
said
Strauss.
"Heard
you
escaped
your
execution.
Very
Impressive
Indeed."
"Sure
it
is"
"Why
are
you
here?
You
cannot
try
any
of
your
pagan
shit
around
here"
"Not
going
to,
simply
going
to
shoot
you"
said
Strauss
and
removed
a
gun.
Just
then
Fredrick
spotted
the
gun
and
ran
there
to
the
bench.
Strauss
looked
at
Fredrick
running
towards
him.
He
got
up
with
a
start,
grabbed
John's
collar
and
they
both
started
running.
David
&
Amanda
followed
Fred.
The
five
ran
and
reached
a
deserted
dead
end.
Strauss
left
John's
collar.
Strauss
charged
onto
Fred
and
both
of
them
had
a
fierce
duel
with
punches
and
kicks
and
blocks.
Fred
at
last
punched
Strauss
in
the
stomach
and
he
fell
groveling
on
the
ground.
The
gun
in
his
hand
fell
onto
the
ground
and
Fred
picked
in
up.
He
aimed
it
at
Strauss
and
shouted,
"You
move
an
inch
and
I'll
pull
the
trigger".
Strauss
happily
got
up
said,
"Try
me".
Strauss
took
out
another
gun
and
shot
Amanda.
She
died
instantly
David's
heart
skipped
a
beat.
David
was
shocked
by
Strauss'
reaction.
Such
courage,
he
had
never
seen.
He
slowly
looked
at
Fred's
gun
and
he
understood
why
he
was
not
scared
about
his
death.
"Fred
don't
shoot,”
shouted
David.
"Have
you
gone
nuts?
He
just
killed
that
damn
girl,”
cried
Fred
furiously
gripping
his
extremely
hard.

Strauss
got
upend
aimed
the
gun
not
Fredrick.
"Fredrick,
do
not
shoot"
"That
guy
will
bloody
kill
me"
Strauss
aimed
precisely
onto
Fred's
Torso.
"Fred,
Shoot
yourself
on
the
forehead"
"What?"
"Fred,
Trust
me,
Shoot
yourself
on
the
forehead"
Strauss
came
a
step
closer.
Fred
heard
every
single
heartbeat
like
a
drumbeat.
He
did
not
know
what
to
do.
He
clasped
the
gun
hard.
He
heard
David
shouting
in
the
background
but
nothing
got
registered.
Fred
was
I
turmoil.
Then
he
did
it.
Fred
took
a
leap
of
faith.
He
aimed
the
gun
on
his
temple
and
with
a
sudden
push
of
the
finger
on
the
trigger,
a
gunshot
was
heard
and
Fred
shut
his
eyes
tightly.
Fred
opened
his
eyes
slowly
and
he
was
assured
he
was
alive.
In
front
of
him
laid
the
dead
body
of
William
Strauss.
XIII
Fredrick
&
David
were
in
the
car
driving
to
David's
apartment
with
mixed
emotions.
They
had
lost
friend
they
made
just
an
hour
ago.
They
had
killed
a
murderer
who
escaped
a
week
back.
John
Hathaway
was
sent
safely
back
home.
On
the
way,
David
read
the
personal
diary
of
Strauss
and
he
understood
why
Strauss
was
committing
such
crimes.
David
explained
that
the
gun
Fred
was
using
to
shoot
Strauss
minutes
before
a
remarkable.
It
was
gun
designed
to
kill
the
shooter.
David
said
he
saw
its
design
in
Strauss'
house
and
readily
recognized
it
when
he
saw
it
in
Fred's
hand
due
to
its
bulky
appearance.
It
was
a
gun
where
bullets
did
not
come
out
of
the
barrel
but
out
of
the
back
of
the
gun.
When
it
is
shot,
it
kills
the
shooter.
Fred
and
David
came
unto
the
house
and
they
sat
down
and
David
started
telling
them
about
why
William
Strauss
indulged
in
such
practices.
"Fred's
parents
held
a
cotton
mill
which
was
illegally
taken
over
by
Sterling
Industries.
Tom
Sterling,
John
Hathaway
&
Alicia
Harrison,
headed
Sterling

Industries.
This
takeover
of
the
mill
put
Strauss'
family
on
the
roads
and
both
the
parents
died
out
of
poverty.
Strauss
had
a
terrible
grudge
against
the
three
who
destroyed
his
family
and
wanted
to
destroy
them.
Strauss
was
put
in
orphanage
and
he
grew
to
be
a
Teacher
of
Sciences
in
High
School.
There
he
met
Dan.
Dan
was
quiet
a
notorious
yet
gullible
kid.
He
easily
fell
in
for
Strauss,
and
he
instructed
Dan
to
steal
three
cellphones
and
intern
he
would
give
him
five
grand.
After
stealing
the
phones,
one
day
Dan
comes
to
Strauss
and
says
he
is
going
to
the
police
to
complain
about
what
Strauss
is
doing.
He
gets
furious
and
kills
Dan.
He
then
arranges
the
dead
body
and
the
room
in
a
way
that
it
looks
like
a
sacrifice,
you
know,
with
dim
lighting
of
candles
and
pagan
stars
and
symbols.
He
thought
the
occult
could
make
him
escape,
but
the
police
didn't
care
a
damn.
They
arrested
him.
Now
we
know
the
rest
of
the
story
from
he
execution
ground
to
his
death."
explained
David.
"But
we
do
not
know
two
things
in
this
tale.
First,
how
did
the
executioner
burn
by
himself
with
Strauss
disappearance
from
the
execution
grounds?
And
Second,
how
did
Strauss
survive
the
acidic
fumes
in
the
taxi?"
asked
Fredrick
"The
second
has
been
solved.
Strauss
took
Calcium
Gluconate,
which
is
the
anti-‐
dote.
Post-‐mortem
reports
showed
large
intakes
of
Calcium
Gluconate
pills
in
the
last
few
days".
"But
the
burning
and
disappearance
during
the
execution?"
"No
Idea".
Epilogue
A
week
later
David
was
filling
gas
into
his
car
and
some
of
it
fell
onto
the
ground.
He
moved
the
car
in
front
and
he
looked
back
and
the
place
where
he
spilt
Gasoline
was
aflame.
He
stopped
the
car
and
went
to
put
off
the
flame.
He
looked
around
why
it
happened
and
he
figured
out
that
the
sparks
of
the
cigarette
of
the
driver
who
came
after
him
fell
on
the
liquid
when
he
dusted
the
cigarette
outside
his
window,
above
the
liquid
and
set
it
on
fire.
He
understood
what
happened
there
and
suddenly,
like
stroke
of
enlightenment,
he
understood
what
happened
on
the
execution
fields.
He
immediately
gave
a
call
to
Fredrick.
"Fred,
mail
me
the
post-‐mortem
reports
of
the
burnt
executioner
now,
immediately"
said
David.
David
went
home,
printed
out
the
reports
and
analyzed
them
and
spoke
to
some
other
people
for
one
hour
and
without
a
word
and
then
said
"Bingo".
He
gave
a
call
to
Fredrick.
"The
executioner
did
not
die
due
to
any
higher
power.
His
reports
say
his
skin
had
traces
of
Jet
Fuel.
His
bathing
soap
was
injected
with
Jet
Fuel.
Strauss
could
have
bribed
the
janitor
to
do
this.
The
doctors
in
the
jail
tested
this
a
few
days
back
when
one
of
the
officers
said
the
soap
smelled
bad.

The
executioner's
body
was
covered
with
this
ultra-‐flammable
liquid
when
he
came
to
the
execution
grounds
and
the
slight
spark
of
the
gun
before
the
bullet
is
fired
near
the
chest
is
enough
to
ignite
the
liquid
on
the
skin
of
body."
"My
God,
William
Strauss
should
be
the
Minister
of
Defense,
but
umm……….
how
did
he
disappear?"
asked
Fred.
"A
burning
man
a
few
feet
away
from
you
is
an
adequate
distraction
for
anybody
to
escape",
said
David.
“So,
he
used
high
school
science
and
called
it
the
occult,”
said
Fred.
“Yup”
answered
David
“The
Occult
is
simply
Science
not
Understood
&
Deciphered”.
By,
Akshar
31/8/11
5:12
p.m.
RELATIVITY
Once there was a boy
who was little too curious
he always dreamt of making a car
who's speed was Super-luminous
He worked all day,
and he slept all night;
and finally made a car,
that goes faster than the speed of light.
He got in the car,
But with him got in three more entities;
Distance sat beside him,

Mass and Time behind.
He started moving,
and in a couple of minutes,
he reached half the speed of light,
and he knew he was crossing speed limits.
Distance patted him,
and pointed to the outside,
He looked to his right,
and he saw a strange sight.
Everything he saw,
was three-fourth its size,
A sleeping six footer,
looked around a 5 in size.
He looked at the distance calculator,
and it said he travelled 1 million miles,
but his friend gives a call and says,
"You just travelled 0.87 million miles"
He looked at his stopwatch,
and saw he spent an hour on deck,
but Time tells him,
"around
m70 minutes is what you sat on deck"
He looked out,
and saw the days passed by faster,
he literally saw the flowers bloom,
as time outside the car was faster.
He then started accelerating,
but his speed was changing slowly every time,
he went from 1.7 to 1.8 million m/s in a second,
but from 1.8 to 1.9 took much longer.
He looked back
and saw Mass had suddenly bloated,
he was 1 tonne first,
now he was 1.15
The car he sat on
first weighed 30 times a tonne
But now it became was 34.64
and the couldn't run

He was too tired
so he got down
and thought for a while
and figured it out with a frown:
"Light's speed is
the universe's speed limit,
Nature won't allow
me to reach it
"If I move close
to the speed of light,
I would suffer
a terrible fright
"1 meter outside becomes shorter
from my perspective
so even though I felt I moved a lot
i moved less to be less productive
"Time is slow in the fast car
and much fast outside the car
I felt a short time in the car
but my friend calculated a larger time of me in the car.
"Speed is distance by time,
distance decreases and time increases
thus high speeds never are
as big as we think they are
"coz my momentum is always constant,
i became heavier,
as i went faster
so i could not go faster.
"Even if you did
reach light speed,
your mass would be infinite
So you would simply blast"
"Nature makes the trio
behind me its speed breakers,
forget crossing the speed of light,
As in the end you would become firecrackers."

IMAGINED
REALITY
"I
never
believed
in
ghosts,
but
I
was
haunted
by
one
almost
all
my
life"
he
thought.
He
was
going
through
incredible
pain.
His
body
wriggled
around
like
a
dying
dog.
But
he
knew,
he
wasn't
going
to
die.
A
few
thousand
volts
passing
through
a
human
being’s
body
could
affect
the
nervous
system
but
nothing
else.
The
two
diodes
fitted
into
his
body,
one
into
his
left
heel,
and
the
other
dropped
into
his
mouth
burnt
the
tender
tissues
around
them.
With
his
limbs
tied
up
with
thick
leather
straps
he
could
not
shake
around
with
ease.
His
shoulders
could
not
bear
the
contractions
of
muscles
around.
He
felt
like
piranhas
were
eating
away
the
flesh
under
his
skin.
His
eyes
were
closed
but
it
was
not
black
behind
his
eyelids
but
deep
orange
due
to
the
blindingly
bright
light
right
above
his
face.
His
bones
felt
as
if
they
were
being
stretched
from
both
ends.
His
body
was
completely
paralyzed,
but
worse,
his
mind
was
completely
conscious
to
experience
every
ounce
of
pain
and
suffering
inflicted
on
the
body.
With
no
way
to
express
the
pain
he
was
suffering,
he
let
out
his
anguish
as
a
single
teardrop
trickling
down
his
cheek.
He
contended
himself,
as
all
of
this
would
result
in
a
life,
closer
to
reality.
A
few
hours
ago…
"Why
does
he
call
us
at
one
in
the
morning?"
asked
William
Herschel.
“You
left
free
the
criminal
I
caught
at
9
pm,”
answered
David
Strauss.
David
Strauss
Jn.
was
a
tall
man
of
slim
figure.
David
was
grown
under
the
shadow
of
his
influential
father,
and
this
continuously
pinched
him
deep
within-‐
everybody
called
him
the
son
of
David
Strauss
Sr.
But
the
only
person
who
did
not
point
back
to
his
lavish
and
influential
background
was
William
Herschel.
Because
of
this,
he
very
easily
built
acquaintance
with
David
and
as
he
continuously
entertained
David’s
ego,
the
two
stayed
friends.
David
and
William
entered
the
room
of
their
chief.
Both
knew
that
each
other’s
hearts
were
beating
incredibly
fast
as
they
were
sure
they
would
be
fired
that
early
morning.
People
generally
never
spoke
to
William.
William
never
interacted
with
anybody
but
David
and
David
generally
did
all
the
talking.
"
You
have
been
incredibly
reckless
today
David.
We
have
been
trying
to
catch
that
thief
for
the
last
six
months
and
you
let
him
go"
said
their
chief.
Both
the
men
were
preparing
themselves
for
the
next
sentence.
"Nothing
can
be
done
now,
so
I
am
setting
you
on
another
assignment.
Sir
Rutherford
psychiatric
center
on
Notting
Island
has
the
assignment
ready
for
you
and
are
not
willing
to
tell
it
to
the
department
and
want
you
to
know
it
directly.
So
don’t
waste
my
time.
Off
you
go,
your
ship
will
be
ready
at
10-‐tomorrow
morning.
"
David's
heart
lightened.
As
he
was
about
to
leave
the
office,
he
stepped
back
and
asked
the
chief
"
Sir,
who
else
is
on
the
project?"
"You
alone"
"Can
I
take
William
with
me
sir"
he
asked
pleading.
The
chief
gave
a
vague
expression
and
he
simply
nodded
looking
straight
at
David.
The
next
morning,
David,
and
with
him
William
got
into
the
ship.
David
had
a
very

wrong
feeling
about
the
whole
context.
Nature
looked
supportive:
standing
on
the
deck,
the
dark
blue
waters
were
slowly
turning
turbulent.
The
clouds
a
little
away
were
deep
grey
in
color
and
were
slowly
approaching.
As
his
thoughts
were
slowly
collecting
and
as
he
understood
what
was
wrong,
William
patted
him
on
his
back
and
broke
his
thought
process.
The
two
got
down
from
the
ship
and
before
them
reached
the
dark
clouds.
Holding
their
caps
and
coats,
William
and
David
sat
in
a
car
and
rode
to
the
psychiatric
center.
He
walked
down
the
pathway
and
knocked
on
a
huge
wooden
door.
As
the
door
opened,
it
made
a
screeching
noise
of
metal-‐over-‐metal
and
there
was
an
old
man
in
white
apron
with
deep
red
bloodstains
on
it.
“How
can
I
help
you,
sir?”
asked
the
man.
William
hesitantly
took
a
back
step
holding
David’s
shoulder.
“I
am
David
Strauss,
sir,
from
the
London
Police,”
said
David
extending
his
hand.
“Ah
yes…
we
were
just
expecting
you”.
The
man
took
out
a
large
syringe
and
stabbed
into
the
extended
arm.
He
forcibly
pushed
the
piston
and
a
wave
of
pain
rushed
through
David’s
vein
with
him
falling
flat
on
the
floor.
David
got
up
with
a
blurred
vision,
tied
to
a
bed
with
thick
leather
straps.
He
was
incredibly
drained
and
could
not
even
speak.
The
man
who
welcomed
him
at
the
doorstep
said
“I
know
you
have
questions,
son,
but
wait
until
you
listen”
As
he
cleaned
bloodstains
off
his
instruments,
he
said,
“You
suffer
from
schizophrenia,
son.
In
layman’s
terms,
you
cannot
tell
the
difference
between
what
is
reality
and
what
is
in
your
mind.
You
have
started
imagining
people,
son.
Next
comes
paralysis.
I
got
to
know
about
you
through
your
chief,
son.
He
said
you
were
talking
about
a
colleague
who
was
never
on
their
records”.
David
vigorously
shook
his
head
with
tightly
closed
eyes,
as
he
could
not
speak.
He
knew
what
the
man
was
talking
about.
“Your
chief
could
not
afford
this.
You
lost
a
criminal
last
night
and
almost
two,
last
month.
This
interaction
with
an
imagination
is
no
different
from
that
of
reality
for
you,
son.
Actually,
it
is
as
true
as
are
looking
at
me
right”
David
stalled
his
shaking
and
tears
rolled
down
his
cheek
as
he
accepted
the
truth
with
difficulty.
“Your
upbringing
continuously
lowered
you
self-‐esteem
due
to
your
father
and
your
mind
needed
a
let
go.
You
needed
something
that
would
simply
praise
you
and
not
your
father.
So
your
mind
made
an
imaginary
character,
son.
We
need
to
treat
you
with
this
son.
It
is
going
to
be
painful.
I’m
Sorry.”
ended
the
man
smiling.
David
with
opened
his
mouth
and
blew
a
tiring
gush
of
air
from
his
mouth
and
the
old
man
figured
out
it
was
“Who?”
The
old
man
opened
a
file
on
a
table
beside
and
he
read
out
the
name.
It
was
what
David
expected.
It
was
painful
but
he
had
to
accept
it.
It
was
not
that
that
man
was
not
there
or
was
dead.
It
was
worse,
he
had
never
been.
It
was
William
Herschel.
A
few
hours
later…

THE ETERNAL CYCLE
In the vast mouth of the sky,
Mighty Chak gargling water;
Spits out to the basin of the earth,
To give it a watery wet cover.
The drops are racing,
Against one another;
But all put together,
Can destroy a tall tower.
They come so fast,
That they unevenly split;
So far not realizing,
They are just Chak’s spit.
They collide against the barren ground,
Splashing away the loose mud;
But that one drop has the capability,
To infuse life into a lifeless bud.
Children are dancing in glee,
But the cattle are about to flee;
And the graceful peacock,
Is swaying under the elegant tree.
But then, clouds move out,
And the sun resumes his shine;
All he brings is happiness,
He knows it is no crime.
From the trees, the dew drops drip down,
Slowly, steadily, still getting slower;
But a beam of light streaks through it,
To give us crystal clear color.
Seven of them merge,
To project pure white;
Now split by a drizzle,
To give an exquisite sight.
A painting in the sky,
Amidst the canvas of clouds;
Shadows the dominating sun,
Creating a smile from a frown.
But the wind sweeps away,
Blowing everything up and down;
And there goes the rainbow,
To turn smiles back to frowns.
The sun dominates again,
From days to weeks around;
It makes everything cry in pain,
Happiness is lost, nowhere can it be found.

Poor helpless little drops,
While nourishing the bud;
Are pulled up by the fiery fierce sun,
From the barren ground, and loose mud.
They rise higher and higher,
Become light as air;
Back to their heavenly prison,
A goblet at Chak’s chair.
The water tries not to enter,
The mighty rain god’s mouth;
They all try to escape,
Attempting to get out.
But the wise lord knew,
That the world would perish, die;
If he did sympathize,
With the drops pitiful cry.
All the water went into the mouth,
Of the giant god Chak;
And whirl pooled as he gargled,
The drops only crave to escape the dark.
THE DROPS COULD DO NOTHING,
EVEN AFTER THEIR MIGHTY TACKLE;
BUT LATER DID THEY REALIZE,
THIS WAS NOTHING BUT, THE WATER CYCLE.
BY shiv AKSHAR
CLASS VIII
March 30, 2010
THE
LEARNING
BRAIN
My
limbs
were
weak,
my
throat
was
dry,
and
my
eye
ached
as
I
struggled
to
hack
in
the
database
of
the
Brain.
My
veins
on
my
hands
were
protruding
out
and
my
eyes
were
as
red
as
blood.
The
bright
light
of
the
screen
in
front
of
me
blinded
me
of
any
thing
a
little
darker
than
it.
I
had
a
huge
burden
on
my
shoulders.
As
I
type
violently,
smashing
the
keys
on
the
age-‐old
keyboard,
I
remembered
the
days
my
father
was
building
the
Brain:
I
was
about
thirteen
when
my
father,
Robert
Wiener,
was
working
to
build
the
Brain.
The
Brain
is
nothing
but
a
replica
of
the
Human
brain.
It
remembers,
processes,
understands,
interprets,
executes
and
learns.
My
father,
after
almost
a
lifetime
of
work,
built
it.
The
Brain
was
licensed
to
run
almost
all
systems
in
the
United
States.
It
controlled
traffic
movement,
amount
of
electricity
reach
your

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