By: Tabassum Chowdhury
Even after 25 years, the nightmares did not quit visiting me. I wake up shrieking for help, I hear explosions while braiding my daughter's hair in the bedroom. I visit my therapist once a month but talking to her, walking down the memory lane over and over only worsens my condition. I stuffed the leather-bound teal notebook back into the shelf and from it fell down a Polaroid. I fought back my urge to cry but all in vain.
It was the year 2092, I was an average 16-year-old living in a war-stricken nation and felt her life would never return back to its original position. My father was a scientist who spent long hours in the lab carrying out multiple types of research, the names I cannot even pronounce. But little did he know the machines he was raising as if they were children of his own were not planning to reciprocate. Artificial intelligence took over the world and we were trapped inside our own houses.
It was a warm summer evening, I could hear the birds chirping and then something caught me off guard. I saw a silhouette and followed my instinct to chase it. It felt as though I was Alice who has finally found her white rabbit. Except that I did not end up in Wonderland. He was our foe. He was the reason our neighbor's house was reduced to ashes. He was the reason my father was crippled. I was not even in the mental state to pray for my life knowing that even a gentle touch with that electric blue stone of his would not feel gentle to me.
I could never fathom why I did not run away from him that day. Maybe if I did I would have turned my fate 360 degrees.
Moments later, standing in that exact same spot we initiated a staring contest, his sea-green eyes looking into my brown ones. Every time I made an attempt to blink, I ended up looking deeper. What I noticed in those pair of eyes was not chaos or destruction, there was something noticeable empathetic about them.
XXNOTF25 started living with me. Now this gives rise to a plethora of questions… why did I let him stay? Wasn't he what we were fighting against? At times how he felt, occurred to me as beyond artificial intelligence. I overheard a few conversations between my dad and his colleagues to discover the machine I was nurturing in my room was special. The reason why I considered letting him use my safe haven as his hideout was because I was curious, I was curious about why he did not let the bluestone touch me.
I used to bring him leftovers after meals. But for his drinks, I had to steal weirdly colored potions from my father's lab.
According to him, there was no point in battling his creators. XXNOTF25 wished for human life, he wanted to fall in love with people and moments, he wanted to laugh when the joke was funny and cry when he lost something important to him.
We went up in the terrace at dusk with coffee and books and stayed there till it was dark but illuminated by the countless galaxies up there.
How was your day?
Just another regular human being day dealing with all the trauma the war induces upon me…
How was yours?
Just another regular humanoid robot day who escaped the bombing and the firing and is now using his opponent's place as a refuge.
Keep this with you.
What is this?
A notebook where I keep a record of everything majestic.
It was teal, leather-bound, and beautiful.
We grew closer and became each other's talking diary. We started growing a miniature nursery together on the terrace and was waiting patiently for the buttercups to bloom.
One fine day, scientists swarmed into our apartment. Almost a year with XXNOTF25 gave birth to enthusiasm for science inside of me. What I could make out from the conversation between my father and his colleagues almost made my head spin.
I wanted my normal life back. I wanted to roam around in the open without fear. I was tired of fighting computers. And I did what I should have never done. I did not have to undo the knot, I should have waited till I discovered another solution. What I learned was XXNOTF25 was the center, shutting him down would shut down the entire system and we would be freed. In order to achieve that, I had to crush the bluestone and watch him dissolve into thin air, even before the buttercups started to bloom.
I put back the Polaroid inside the notebook overwhelmed with grief, regret, and guilt. Even to this date I keep asking myself the same question, did I fall in love with a machine?
(Image from here.)
Comments