Next step in Evolution

Theory of evolution suggests that all species are related and gradually change over time. Everything, every living being that we've known and yet to know have all evolved from a single cell. Survival of the fittest doesn't imply that the fittest destroys all that is not its equal. Fortunately that's why we still see the many organisms around us today because of the importance of their existence to maintain the balance in the system.

Imagine if humans could photosynthesise and create their own food and oxygen using the sunlight. The role of trees, forests and everything depending on it would have been extinct at least a couple of millions of years ago. We have left the trees only because we still depend on them for one thing or another.

What happens when we evolve to something that doesn't have to depend on anything that we depend on today?

Genetics would help us for a few hundred more years but the future belongs to a fitter generation that may only remember humans as humans remember the neanderthals and even deny any relation to such inferior species.

Robots, Humanoids, Cyborgs!

Neuroscience and Robotics has seen a phenomenal growth in the last few decades. We have the technology and intelligence to build machines that could build machines better than we, humans could. 

Factories crowded with thousands of humans are replaced with millions of tiny robots and few humans to push a few buttons and monitor readings.

Wars fought with millions of soldiers are being fought with a few hundred guided drones with the intelligence to acquire target more efficiently than soldiers who spend half their life-time on rigorous trainings.

Only our politics, morality, ethics and fear of armageddon between humans and the superior machines has prevented us from handing over the full control and freedom to machines to be what their potential would allow them to be.

Because there is a difference ethics, politics and morality among the people of different groups and countries sooner or later one country tying to dominate another will end up creating the machines that could evolve to be better than the creators. If we could create killing machines with Machine learning and Artificial Intelligence and allow them perform better than humans, we could also create machines that would learn to survive on its own.

Today, the richest in the world could be considered the fittest and through the theories of evolution will continue to survive. The rest of the world are not extinct yet only because the fittest still needs the rest of the world to survive and maintain its position at the top of the peak. Without the poor faction that spends its life toiling away in factories and fields with a hope to make the future of its offsprings, the rich faction cannot exist.

Likewise, machines will need humans only till the time they are dependent on machines. Once they evolve above that humans will be an inferior species and will have to learn to coexist without claiming the special status or go extinct.

We've only cracked the atoms and we already possess the potential to destroy continents and send out probes to other worlds and spies into the interstellar space. One or another of our next discoveries will help us evolve beyond the weaknesses of humankind as we know it today. 

If humans created superior machines that replace humans, is that not Evolution?

(Inspired by the thoughts of Yuval Noah Harari and Carl Sagan's thoughts and writings.) 

Are we (INDIANS) not a Patriarchal Society?

Dear men of India,

You may scream all day till your juices dry about how you treat your fellow Indian women equally while silently or ignorantly enjoying the benefits of the Patriarchal society that you are born into.

Men are ALLOWING women to work as equals in organisations you say, but there still is a huge divide in the ratio. "The number of female workers is about less than half the number of male workers"[sic].

And then there is the Gender pay gap. You may very well compare yourself to your lady colleague and cry that she gets paid equal or over you. Well, even with that lady earning more than you the Gap is still not evened out which means everywhere else the gap is so much that a comparison is just a joke.

"Gender pay gap high in India: Men get paid Rs 242 every hour, women earn Rs 46 less"[sic]

But then, what motivated me to write this post in the middle of all the atrocious and heinous crimes committed against women daily (some holding the attention of the entire nation for  a couple of weeks) is something I came across in the 'Hindu_Succession_Act,_1956'.

Let me call your attention to one interesting piece from this Act. Particularly to the 'property of a Hindu male dying intestate (without a will)' - "Class II heirs"

Class I heirs are pretty straightforward and no hassle. But the class II heirs is a clear definition of Patriarchy. 

"Class II heirs: Absence of Class I heirs

In case of absence of the class I heirs, as given above, the class II heirs will become entitled to the property of the deceased.

The class II heirs consist of many relatives who have been classified into categories and placed in a hierarchy. Preference is given to the one ranking above, wherein if there is even one member available in the higher (preceding) category then all of the property shall pass to the members in that category and none to the ones coming after that (succeeding).

However if there is no one available in the higher (preceding) category then it shall pass to the members following next in the category (succeeding)."[sic]

Class II heirs are categorized as follows and are given the property of the deceased in the following order:

1. Father [MALE]
2. Son's / daughter's son [MALE]
3. Son's / daughter's daughter [FEMALE]
4. Brother [MALE]
5. Sister [FEMALE]
6. Daughter's / son's son [MALE]
7. Daughter's / son's daughter [FEMALE]
8. Daughter's / daughter's son [MALE]
9. Daughter's /daughter's daughter [FEMALE]
10. Brother's son [MALE]
11. Sister's son [MALE]
12. Brother's daughter [FEMALE]

(yeah, I do not see Sister's daughter in the list either)

Apparently, the rights of the property of an Indian male dying without a will goes to the MALE relatives before the FEMALE.

This is justified by the assumption that a MALE (who is evidently earning more than FEMALE in the our society) is the bread-winner of the family and should be given priority when there is any extra benefit comes their way and the FEMALE is already assumed to be living with another MALE (married off) and will not require these extra benefits.

If you have a brother and a sister, the law gives your property to your brother and not your sister in the absence of any living person on the other higher categories. 

How's that for an Equal and well-balanced society? 

No, we should not compare ourselves with countries where women still do not have rights over property today but work towards rectifying our flaws.

Ministry of utmost happiness - Arundati Roy (About the book)

How to tell a shattered story?

By becoming everyone? No. By becoming everything.

Ministry of utmost happiness's plot runs like a river through the crevices let open by the political climate of the country. Goverment after government ensuring that the cracks expand and go deeper and deeper while opposing the same when they are thrown out of power and replaced with a different one who claimed to be exactly the opposite of the current and promised freedom, prosperity, peace and 'solution'.

Hopes shattered, people live on their lives turned upside down because someone somewhere has a vision. A vision to be loved, feared, remembered.

Arundati Roy takes us on a ride on a houseboat on a lake that is grey reflecting the gloominess of the country, wading through the corpses of those killed by meticulous plan or some as collateral damage, we can't see the faces of the dead because they have been crushed by force, or blown out by a goverment owned light machine gun at point black range when facing it unarmed, naked with private parts tortured with electric shocks. We don't have to close our nose, the corpses do not stink, by the magic of her language she has filtered out the smell but allowed only the sadness to wash over your face, mind and conscience.

A story of the broken who have seen the many faces of brutality, negligence, disregard for their freedom of choice to be as born and die peacefully so.

A real slow boat ride that shows you your country as you already knew but never cared to acknowledge

Put him to Sleep

Dali, our pet dog, has been quiet for the past two days, as if he has understood that the day has finally come. Dali is grandpa's favourite.

Grandpa spends his early mornings sitting in the lawn, throwing Dali a stick or a ball to fetch, wincing a little every time, until he could throw no more.

We are out of dog food, coincidentally.

Time sucks. It sucks away the energy, happiness and strength out of our lives and leaves us behind with the burden of the memories of all the jumping and running around without a worry in the world.

Today's the day.

We get onto the car. I take the seat beside mom in the front while Dali and grandpa are slowly settling down on the back. Mom planned it so that grandpa gets to spend more time with Dali. Nobody says a word during the entire 120 minutes drive along the coast. Neither the chirping birds from the park nor the cheerful beach-goers bring us any joy today.

We're here. It's time to say the final good bye.

Dali, the cleverest, and dearest to grandpa walks to him resting his head on his lap and avoiding to look at his face. Grandpa gently strokes his head while finishing off the formalities and signing a few papers. Once the formalities are done, grandpa gets up and hugs Dali. He hugs him so tight that we feared his ribs might crack. They know that it's the last hug and they both don't mind the pain or discomfort.

The doctors assure us that the process will be painless. And we left him in their hands and walk back to the car.

Though our hearts are troubled by the loss, we are glad that at least we put him out of misery. In the car, I turn around to look at the empty seat and let a drop of tear slide down my cheek bothering not to stop it or wipe it.

Mum stops at the supermarket to get us some supplies; essentials; soft drinks; and a new flavoured food for Dali and some new toys.

Dali will have to get used to playing with us from now.

Nod baby Nod!

Nod baby nod,

So long as they prod.

Prod you with their questioning stare

Stop you from everything before you dare

Oh! you may sit on your pappa's comfy chair

Spread your legs and your momma’s gonna glare.

Relax, It's just a bra strap

Why do you keep falling for the same trap

Even from the best places in the world map

They're screaming, crushed by the patriarchal bull crap

Televisions blare of a new seductive cologne

Then they question the victim why she walked alone

If they can touch you, you’re not so far
Remember, age no bar

They’ll have you on top

They won’t have you on top

I know, It’s an irony

They won’t mind to see you on your knee

Blood, sweat and tears of generation

From the days of your creation

Drowning down lifelessly

Pulled to the bottom mercilessly

When the last bubble of your breath goes a-pop

Someone somewhere is pushed down before they could reach the top

A card, a pat and a cute looking hat with a satin ribbon

Smile, to not offend the generosity, through these conferred upon 

Walk darling walk

Let your walking do the talking

Their heads will turn

Their eyes will burn

So long as you walk in a circle

This could only be cured by a miracle

Break free and run

On a track free of them

It sure will rouse a cloud of dust

That’s when they'll look you apart from an object of lust

Game Over (Rap it)

(Rap it)

She was a fashion model
From some fancy online portal

It's all just porn so i start to scroll it
It's boring, I couldn't control it
So i start to troll it
Licking one end I just roll it
Darn it!
I just burn it
And smoke it
Now I'm tripping through another dimension

It's an ascension
An illusion
A delusion
With no earthly description

Nevermind, I'm the water
That's in all three states of matter
I couldn't say if I hurt her
Just know, y'all kids will see my documentary in a theatre

You fear that im dangerous
I tell you it ain't contagious
Until i know you're courageous
I try to act all sagacious

I couldn't care less to look acceptable
respectable
a spectacle
a miracle
prophesied by an oracle
You'll see me yakety-yak and cackle
When i hear your spine crackle
Though my hands would be bound in a shackle
There was never prequel
And they caught me before an artful sequel

They said i went for the head shot
I just heard the siren, now the police is taking a mugshot
The blood splash on my face is thick, hot
I hurled away my freedom with a slingshot
Knock knock
Here comes the noose knot
To be reborn, i fucking wish not
'Game Over' followed by a giant fucking 8-bit white dot

Neither a saint nor a sinner (possibly a rap song lyrics)

NOTE: Try it in EMINEM style

I'm neither a saint nor a sinner
Life ain't a race, cry or die there's no winner

It's not up to you to judge
And turn my life around with a nudge

For, fucker, I won't budge
Fuck't all I hold no grudge

With the dead and the dreaded filling the trench
Through which I numbly bloody trudge

Lying down, I see her chasm,
She said, "You're a fucking king of giving orgasm"
Years pass before I get the sarcasm
I was green and believed I was awesome

I give no fuck no more
Baby, really
Of course, literally

Upon conquering it all, why do I feel empty
Broken, am I, like the fallen Humpty-Dumpty
Oh, no King nor his men on knee,
Come running to help the broken me

I'm the tornado that brings destruction
Tearing open everything that's an emotional obstruction
Calm and quiet at the centre,
That's where I find my shelter
To escape from all the helter-skelter

You may beat me up, black and blue,
Though my heart's broken, I won't beg you for glue

Exhausted, I lie down on a ground a little higher,
Turns out that's a pyre, and you set it on a fire
With a dry voice I challenge your manhood
Command you to pile upon me more wood
Disbelief and anger replaces your gay mood
Drains out the blood under your black hood

You can't kill the dead
Run away before you lose your head

I live my life a'mocking,
a'joking,
a'knocking,
a'breaking,
a'smacking,
a'whacking,
a'hacking,
a'choking,
a'shaking,
a'making y'all a'shocking,
a'waking up from this nightmare

Stripping you down
Ripping you open like a gown
Let there be no error
I'll fill you up with sheer terror

I'll close you up neatly with a stitch
Upon which you'll find no glitch,
Oh, rest assured, you'll find no itch
For that's the least of your worries. Bitch,
I'm neither a saint nor a sinner
Life ain't a race, cry or die there's no winner
For, fucker, I won't budge
Fuck't all I hold no grudge
You can't kill the dead
Run away before you lose your head
I have put the reaper to bed
Now shut the fuck up for he's sleeping like a lead

Forest story

This forest is under the protection of the government, meaning, only they could destroy it and they’ll beat all competition hands-down. ‘Reserved Forest’, says a label over a green patch on the map that has been shrinking over centuries, at a pace faster than before, every time the government changes.

Within this forest lies a mystery that remains hidden from a time before civilisation. A mystery, that, if had eyes, would have seen how, its present threat, the humans, evolved from a single cell amidst arguing against it all through centuries. A mystery, that, if had ears, would have heard the loud roar of the dinosaurs and the shrieks when their world was burnt down, when they ran panicked, stampeding the unfortunate ones trying to escape the devastating doom.

A gigantic tree, with roots visible and floating above the ground, would have been an obvious discovery. Luckily it wasn’t that obvious. And that’s why, no human, savage, slave or saint ever knew of its existence.

The Devil Tree, we’ll call it a tree, though it may have only less than a hundred leaves and its stem is not thicker than a slender, light-green, silky drumstick, has lived beyond ages, unnoticed, not forgotten, for nobody knew about it in the first place.

On the first day, the new forest officer, in a bamboo hut, a few kilometres away from the centre of the forest, drinking the forest’s fresh water to quench his thirst, signed away the approval papers for a non-existing company, whose ghost proprietor has promised to quench his financial thirst.

And so began the destruction of yet another forest. Slowly but surely the green patch started to shrink again. After few weeks of felling, thanks to the modern equipments that helped to achieve many months’ labour in just a few weeks, they reached the centre of the forest.

As the fellers started advancing to the centre of the forest, unlike any other forest they’ve worked on in their lives, the noise of the birds and hints of the animals started to dwindle away. Presuming this strange behaviour to be due to the change in climate that corporations and college students debate about, they resumed their work, cursing this discomfort and working their lives through, feeling no remorse for their actions, which, of course, is not personal but just to follow orders that reaches them after passing through at least four levels of order-takers, not that they have been tree-huggers before they chose this job.

When they finally came, when the chain-saw started whirring furiously, the sky darkened, obscuring the sun by mid-day threatening to pour any second now. The blade of the chainsaw, singing a metallic hum, started to cut through the strong barks of another huge and ancient tree, at least a hundred or two hundred years old, like a sharpened butcher’s knife slicing through the boneless meat of a tender pork. 

Along with the century old tree, the Devil Tree was cut down. Without any resistance, the thin branches, gave in, not standing a chance against the blade’s jagged teeth running at an unimaginable speed, biting through it with the effect of a thousand blows from a sharpened axe delivered in less than half a second.

Before the severed branch fell to the ground, the earth shook and started to vibrate as if tens of thousands of angry Rhinos were rushing up, thundering their heavy hooves, rising from under the very feet of the fellers. Confused and astonished by this unexplainable quake they stood there frozen in fear, while the blades of their saws never stopped where the chainsaws were dropped. At that instant, a mystical darkness fell over the forest, blanketing not just the light of the sun but also the sounds of the forest, for, otherwise, the sound came after that would have deafened every living thing within a circle of a hundred kilometres.  In that silence, there arose trillions of birds, of countless species,  brilliant and bland coloured, tiny and monstrous, pretty and beast-like, birds, that not one living soul has seen or heard of, flying out from a hole where the Devil Tree stood before. From the roots of the Devil Tree, which was a mysterious network that housed all the birds that die above the earth and go to rest away from the cruelties of the rotting world, they were driven off, forced to find another sanctuary, above the clouds, beyond the moon, and a million galaxies away, away from the hunters, away from the predators, away from humans.