Spandan The Beat of Nation: A Bilingual Monthly Magazine and an effort to

cover various issues, aspects related to India with expert reviews, articles, reports,
stories and poems.

Languages Hindi and English

Issue # 01: January February 2014

In Association with Freelance Talents
Editor Rashi Saxena
Content Editor Mohit Sharma
Authors Akash Soam, Colleen Finn, Kapil Chandak, Mohit
Sharma, Tim Watson, Siddhant Shekhar.

Spandan & Authors, All rights reserved.

*) - The Good Ones

(Colleen Finn)

In late spring of 2009, I visited India for the first time, eager to explore a country
that I had dreamed of visiting for years. When I arrived, it was with all the
arrogance of a seasoned traveler. I had been traveling for years and sometimes
even did volunteer work in the countries I visited. I thought of myself as culturally
sophisticated and openan explorer without borders, accepting of any person or
experience, regardless of how foreign. In this particular case, I was excited to be
traveling through glorious Rajasthan for a few weeks before embarking upon a
week of volunteer work teaching English in a New Delhi orphanage.
When I arrived in New Delhi and reported to the volunteer organization, the
program manager informed me that they were already well-staffed at the
orphanage, so I had been reassigned to work at a center for street boys at the busy
Nizamuddin Railway Station. Despite my eagerness to do volunteer work, I felt
trepidation at this news. Street boys? Up until that point, I considered my
encounters with street children to be pretty typical. In Jodhpur, I was sideswiped in
the bazaar by a speeding auto-rickshaw when I attempted to back away from the
outstretched hands of three street boys, looking for anything that I might give
themspare rupees, sweets or ballpoint pens. On another occasion, I made the
classic error of handing out a few small treats to some street children in Jojawar.
Soon after, I found myself surrounded by a large group of them all looking at me
expectantly, hoping that I would relinquish just a few more. Some of the children
aggressively picked at my bag and pockets, unwilling to believe that I had nothing
else to give.

After these experiences and others, I had learned to keep what I considered a
respectful distance from the street children in India. I acknowledged them, but
waved them politely away so I could go about my business. It was an arrangement
with which I felt comfortable. Yet now I was going to work with them directly in
an effort to expose them to my language. For some unknown reason, the idea of
teaching English in an orphanage just seemed tamer. I did my best to hide my
disappointment and resolved to make the best of my new assignment.
On my first day of volunteer work, I met with the centers director who provided
me with some background on the program and introduced me to the boys. They
ranged in ages from 6 to 14, but most looked much younger than their years. Some
suffered malnourishment, some had been abused, and all had either run away, been
abandoned, or been encouraged to leave their homes in hopes that they would find
jobs or a better life in the big city. After the director addressed the boys in Hindi
which I hoped was a directive to Behave yourselves!I was abandoned to
handle the class on my own.
I stood there and looked at the ragtag bunch. While many of the boys were friendly
and curious, several looked upon me with frank distrust. Ramesh, a young boy
dressed in an oversized gray work shirt and slacks, scowled openly at me and
retreated to hunch in the corner of the dingy room. Jitaen, an undernourished boy
who had been severely abused prior to his arrival at the center, completely ignored
me and turned on the television. Girraj looked at me with a blank expression on his
face, and then proceeded to play with a board game on the floor. I made a quick
decision to focus on the boys who were friendly and curious and proceeded to dig
into my arsenal of learning games in an attempt to keep them engaged.
By my second day at the center, I was gratified to discover that most of the boys
who had ignored me the day before were now enthusiastically participating in my
lessons. They eagerly recited new vocabulary describing colors, animals, and parts
of the body and enjoyed playing games to reinforce what they were learning.
Ramesh, having apparently decided that I could be trusted, eagerly requested a
game that I had demonstrated the day before during a time that I thought he was
napping. Jitaen grabbed my hand and placed it around his scrawny, bare shoulders,
eager for my attention and affection. Girraj, eyes wide open with excitement,
joined in every game and lesson.
There was also a new face in the buncha tiny, 6-year old boy named Chonda.
Chonda had bright pink scars on his face, which were a stark contrast to his brown

skin. A center employee said he had received the scars while living on the street. It
was a likely explanation for his behavior as well, for despite his age and size, he
immediately began to pick fights with the older boys over any perceived wrong,
however small it may have seemed. A few of the centers employees would
struggle to restrain him in his fits of anger and tears, but I kept my distance from
Chonda, intimidated by his wildness.
As the week progressed, the boys continued to participate and improve in their
lessons, even while Chonda continued to interrupt the day by picking fights with
them. Up until then, I had allowed the center employees or the boys to break up
these outbursts in an attempt to disengage myself from any conflict. But finally one
day, in a burst of inspiration mixed with frustration, I inserted myself in the middle
of a heated struggle that Chonda instigated with Ramesh. Rather than restrain
Chonda, however, I began to tickle him. For a long second, his face looked utterly
shocked. Then, both Chondas face and body melted in a fit of giggles. I tickled
him on the floor until hed forgotten what hed been so angry about. After that, I
was no longer intimidated by the wild little boy with the pink scars on his face. He
still had outbursts, but I handled them using the same method and he continued to
allow his anger to melt away under a peal of laughter.

My last day at the center arrived. We played the boys favorite games and
reviewed the things they learned during my stay. As I prepared to say my
goodbyes, I noticed Chonda outside the open door, balancing upon the bottom rung
of the rusty metal stair rail. He turned to look at me with a huge grin on his face
and began clapping his hands. He called to me in Hindi as he motioned for me to
join him in a clapping game. One of the centers employees looked at me and said,
Hes calling you good one. To Chonda, I was a good one.
That was the moment when I realized that something inside me had changed.
Although I fancied myself someone who was open to anyone of any culture, I
realized that when I arrived at the center, I had regarded these boysand all of the
street children that I had encountered throughout my tripas separate from both
myself and other children. I had safely tucked them away behind a wall that I
didnt realize I had created until I discovered its pieces crumbled all around me.
Those boys, the ones before me dressed in ill-fitting second-hand clothing, the
ones who I waved away in the bazaar, the ones who followed me through
Jojawarwerent street children. They were children, like any other. Children who
lived a life of tremendous struggle, yesbut still children who laughed, cried,
loved and needed affection. Children with both amazing and terrifying stories.
With every day that passed that week, the boys at the center had succeeded in
quietly destroying my wall until there was nothing left to separate us. I gazed down
into Chondas tiny brown face as he looked at me expectantly with his bright
smile. It was a calm moment in the storm of his life, a moment when he was not a
street child, not hungry, not begging, and not fighting for his right to exist. He was
just a boy, enjoying the sun, balancing on a stair rail, and wanting to play a game
with the woman who tickles him. I took his hands in mine for a brief moment. We
began to clap.
*****
Colleen Finn is an avid world traveler and enjoys blogging about her adventures.
As a passionate advocate for voluntourism, she has cared for injured animals at a
wildlife hospital in Greece, taught English in Peru, worked with street children in
India, and will soon be volunteering at an orphanage in Vietnam. When not
traveling, Colleen works as a technical consultant in Portland, OR and applies her
love of adventure and exploration to her local surroundings by enjoying the many
outdoor activities that the Pacific Northwest has to offer.

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*) - Sorry Smt. Maneka Gandhi ji!

(Mohit Sharma)

"Who are these people? Animal Rights Activists? Why?

People working on behalf of others without payment for their time and services.
Animal rights, also referred to as animal liberation, is the idea that the most basic
interests of non-human animals should be afforded the same consideration as the
similar interests of human beings. Why? This is super socialism. They are
spending billions on animals when hundreds of people in my mega slum die
annually. I am struggling for all the basic necessities like food, water, shelter,
clothing, then why should I adopt a dog? I know how to read and write but I am
not listening to them and I dont want their pictorial pamphlets (for unaware and
illiterate people as they call us). They say we are brainwashed.I dont understand
their logic(s) and statistics. Maybe, they are right but we are hungry!
Away from my slum, in this dark cold night, I was feeling very sad and frightened
at the same time. I had never committed a murder before but today I had do so in
order to save our lives. I didn't want to ruin my life just for this tiny little stupid
thing. I had made up my mind. I would murder him in the dead of night and no one
would ever know what happened to him. I was looking forward to a very happy
life with my beautiful love. But first I had to kill this witless git. I sharpened my
knife and with a loud thud, his life ended. Feeling not a little feeling of regret in
my heart, I started burying him. Poor dog breathed his last in the backyard of my
hut and I felt very relieved to end this fiasco. Having some serious hatred with
animals especially dogs, (and humans) I would never had let this stupid moron in
my house but my wife was insisting to keep him with us. Stray Cows, Buffaloes,

Goats and other plants, grass eating animals are okay as they never demand
anything except causing few accidents on roads and injuring Bikers, pedestrians
and rarely those rich people in their Air Conditioned Cars. But Dogs, no they are
not okay because they want bread. This was the main reason of our ongoing
problems. When I will get a decent job then I will gift her 1no..2 dogs. I crossed
my fingers to pray for the poor thing and started moving towards my home where a
happy life and beauteous love was waiting for me."
...The End!
Author Notes :

*) - Smt. (Shrimati) is an honorific (Hindi) used for women.

*) - Maneka Gandhi is an Indian politician, animal rights activist, environmentalist,
former model.
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*) - Good Company and Bad Company

(Mohit Sharma)

Two parrots had built their nest on a banyan tree. The female parrot laid two eggs
in the nest. After sometime, the eggs latched. Two chicks came out of them. The
parent birds took good care of them. After few weeks, the young birds were able to
fly for some distances. The father bird said, We have taken good care of our
young ones. We have fed them well too. They have played together. They have
learned to fly. Now they can take care of themselves. Let us slowly leave them to
decide on their own.
Every morning the parent birds flew out to fetch food for the young birds. Then
they returned in the evening with food for their young children. This was their lives
went on for a while.
A hunter saw this behavior of these birds. He learned that the old birds went out in
the morning. He decided to catch the young birds after the old birds would go
away in the morning. As planned he caught the young birds. The young birds
struggled their best to free themselves from the clutches of the hunter. One of the
two young birds escaped from the hunter. The other bird was taken in a cage by the

hunter to his house. I caught tow birds. But I lost one parrot, said the hunter to
his kids. And he further added to his children, Keep this parrot safely in the cage
and play with this parrot.
The hunters children played with the parrot. Very soon the parrot in the house of
the hunter learnt to speak few words. The children said to their father, Dad, our
parrot has learnt to say a few words. The other parrot flew away. It had escaped
from the hunter. It flew for some time. Then it came to a hermitage. Some holy
men lived in the hermitage. They did not do any harm to the young parrot. The
young parrot stayed there. It listened to their talk. It learnt to say a few words.
A certain traveler was walking near the hunters hut. He was tires. He sat nest the
hut. He heard the parrot speak. It said, Fool, why have you come here? I will cut
your throat. The traveler was very sorry to hear such bad and offensive words. He
got up immediately. He left the place in a hurry. Then he walked for some time and
reached the hermitage. The parrot was sitting on a tree near the hermitage.
Parrot - Welcome, traveler. Welcome to this hermitage. We have a lot of good
fruits in this forest. Eat whatever you like. The holy men will treat you well.
The traveler was astonished. He said to the parrot. I met a young parrot near a
hunters hut. It spoke badly. I left the place immediately. Now I have met you. You
speak so well. Your words are kind and gentle. Both you and the other birds are
parrots. Then why this difference in your language is there?
By this statement, the parrot in the hermitage guessed that the other parrot was
none other than it's brother. The hermitage parrot said, Traveler, the other parrot
is my brother. But we have lived in two different places. My brother has learnt the
hunters language. But I have learnt the language of holy people. It is the company
that shapes your words and deeds.
Moral - Good company helps you learn good things. Bad company makes you
lean bad things.

*) - Spandan Toons

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*) Hired
(Siddhant Shekhar)

So this was it. A literal Do or Die. Sam wrung his hands, as if trying to squeeze out
all the sweat on his palms. He never really got sweaty palms, but then again he had
never been so nervous either. He was one of the seven applicants who had agreed
to face the final interview in front of Alpha 1 for the most coveted and yet the most
despised position of all, System Maintenance. The post had been held by some of
the most intelligent men and women in the past two centuries, people who held the
keys in their hands to the entire world and yet with enough strength of character to
leave the doors locked. He heard steady footsteps, almost like a terribly accurate
metronome, approaching him and braced himself. He straightened up, forced a

smile on his face and tried to pretend the world was all sunshine and butterflies. If
only it was so easy.
It was one of the newer models that had been sent to summon him, the
PAX100, a humanoid robot with biometric capabilities and Artificial Social
Intelligence, Sam knew the stakes had just been doubled. ASI bots were never sent
to summon people, they dealt with lower level interviews. Sam could see the
situation playing out in his head clearly, the ASI would engage in small talk and
then subtly try to intimidate him. The bot would then gauge his body language and
use neuro-linguistic programming to check if Sam was comfortable around robots.
The I-bots had no use for an insecure Sys Main Head. It could literally mean the
end of the world for them.
The ASI bot was a humanoid, with a rugby shaped head balanced
precariously on top of a cuboidal body with flimsy limbs. As the ASI had no use
doing heavy manual labour, the exoskeleton was simple metal and not the
composite nanomaterial that was used in Artificial Combat Intelligence bots.
However, inspite of the weak appearance, the ASI was still stronger than any
human and could not be taken out by anything other than another bot. This was one
of the reasons the rebels had had negligible success till now, inspite of whatever
they did, no matter how big a stone they threw, the dent was never big enough.
The bot walking towards him was a female. One of the quirks the bots
dreamt of were to paint half the robots pink and call them female bots and leave
the other half white and call those male bots. The underlying logic was that by
removing the pronoun it associated with the bots, they would sensitize humans
towards bots and make them think of I-bots as persons and not machines. Not a
particularly smart move in retrospect, thought Sam, all the move did was reinstate
the difference I-bots had with humans and dig a deeper trench between the rulers
and the public.
The I-bot walked towards Sam and said, Hello, I am Irene and I will be
your guide today. I am afraid no unauthorized machines are allowed after this point
so I must ask you to remove all your electronic gadgets and submit them here in
this box. Your belongings will be sent to your home.
So, it begins, thought Sam. He noticed the cleverly disguised threat. The
bot, sorry, Irene, had just reminded Sam in passing that he might be dead in a few
hours if he fails the interview. The survival instinct of humans is the most potent
emotion at their disposal. The human brain would not miss this allusion and pump
in more adrenaline into his system to get his blood flowing and increase the supply

to his vital organs for the possible fight or flight. The resulting elevation of the
heartbeat would be caught by Irenes biometric sensors and would convey to her
that Sam does not have a plan or a hidden gadget that might give him some
security that his life might be saved. The I-bots had found the perfect tool to look
into the minds of humans, their body. Sam obliged and thought of the accident he
had had while in college in vivid detail. He hoped the resulting elevation would
satisfy Irene.
Sam removed his earpiece and eye monitor and put them into the tray. The
earpiece had been a gift from his 12 year old son. He had built it for his middle
school project on his own by reverse engineering an older model. It wasnt as
efficient as the ones I-Corp made, but Sam kept it for its sentimental value.
I am also wearing an epidural skeletal enhancement in my left leg. What
do I do about that? Sam enquired.
Okay, that complicates things! Well, I will then have to ask my friend
from the AMI sector to neutralize it temporarily. I hope you dont mind sitting on a
wheelchair? Considering no machines are allowed beyond here, it will have to be
an ancient model.
Sam didnt. He had planned it this way. On a push wheel chair, the ASI
wouldnt be able to see Sams facial expressions and other micro signals his body
may leak. His lies would be this safe this way as long as he controlled his heartrate accordingly and didnt let his lips get dry or get nervous. The push wheel chair
would also put the security I-bots at ease considering they could rule out sabotage
or something similarly radical from Sam. Only Sam knew that if his plan
succeeded, he wouldnt have to move from the chair at all.
15 minutes later, Sam was not so comfortably seated on the wheelchair and
was being wheeled towards the interview room. Sam guessed the walk was close to
15 minutes as it gave the ASI more time to gauge his intentions and reactions. No
reason was mentioned of course, and Sam couldnt ask because that would trigger
some alarms in the ASI. Paranoia was one of the defining features of the I-Corp.
Sam recalled his history lessons from back in school. Though heavily
edited and propagandized, they did mention the basic fact that the I-Corp, the first
and only Human free company took over the control of the World during what
they were taught to call the Revolution close to 700 years ago. The economy was
in shambles and the world was torn apart by war back then. The I-Corp, scared of
losing business probably, overtook UNO by financial means and slowly and
steadily set up puppet governments in all the countries, either by canvassing and
lobbying, or straight up violent dictatorship. Once they had covered the important

countries, they dissolved all governments and united the entire planet under one
union, known as The Earth. The countries that opposed or didnt have the puppet
governments were annexed. Now, I-Corp controlled all factions of life on the
planet and the rebellion was dying out as the quality of life had been better than
ever. Freedom of Speech and Press just didnt have a chance against omnipresent
prosperity and eradication of poverty.
So Mr. Gillard, excited? Irene said in a voice that Sam suspected had
been sampled from a voice actress, or at least a phone sex worker.
You know it, Irene. I am as excited as the other guy. Sam replied smartly.
It was a close one. If he feigned excitement he would have failed miserably,
excitement is one of the hardest emotions to feign. If he expressed dismay, he
would have been killed off for sure. By keeping his answer ambiguous, he bought
himself a few more moments.
I have seen your file Mr. Gillard. You are the strongest contender. Irene
prodded further, trying to detect any happiness or eagerness in Sam.
Well then Irene, lets hope the light at the end of the tunnel thinks so too.
And call me Sam. Sam quickly inserted the last line to neutralize the animosity he
may have created by his first sentence. ASI, irrelevant of how intelligent they
maybe, were driven by algorithms at the end of the day. If you knew the
algorithms, you could beat the system. Sam knew showing comradeship was a plus
in an ASIs dictionary and would over-ride his earlier sarcasm (or was it a pun?)
What does your family think about you taking up the job?
I cant say my wife was thrilled. My son was very happy though. I imagine
I may have skipped a few portions of the contract when narrating it to him. Sam
smirked, thinking about the clause that said that if he wasnt chosen for the job, he
would have to be exiled (which actually meant killed). No one knew the reason
why though.
I see. How old is he?
12. I wish the position had opened up a few years ago. Its a lot harder for
them.

Yes, I admit. An infants memory is a lot less detailed than a child. And
children usually take these things the hardest. But it is for them that you are doing
it anyway.
Of course Sam smiled back, not daring to think about how easily did the Ibots think they had convinced him that a job was worth leaving his only son
sobbing on his unmarked grave lest he gave himself away.
They spent a while in silence while Irene tried to feign sympathy. Sam
didnt have to feign his tears though. In the midst of the excitement, the plan, he
had forgotten about little Greg. He had forgotten to think what would happen to
Greg if the plan didnt work. Not financially, I-Corp would take care of his family
with a handsome pension, but who would teach Greg how to fish. Who would take
him out to camps and roast marshmallows? Who would Greg go to with his first zit
or shaving nick?
Irene wheeled him in front of the room while Sam recounted incidents about
Gregs childhood. Sam felt it was a safe enough topic and he wouldnt have to
simulate any emotions during this. The entrance was a 3 door conveyor belt design
and each door was probably more than 5 feet thick and made of solid ceramic
compounds. The doors were strong enough to survive a nuclear fusion or an
antimatter bomb dropped 100 feet from it. Sam winced on thinking he was
choosing to go in.
Sam was wheeled in by conveyor belts and was screened for weapons of
every sort, biological, organic, chemical, even the ancient physical ones. Following
the check, he was wheeled towards the center of a giant room. He could see the
giant screen covering an entire wall of the room getting larger by the second. He
drew in a quick breath and braced himself.
The face on the screen (which looked like Sams father right now) waited till
Irene had walked out of the door and locked it behind herself. The Alpha One was
now active. He mimicked Sams fathers voice.
I think you would not mind me calling you Sam, Mr. Gillard. It wasnt a
request, it was an order in a what-will-you-do-about-it way. The formalities,
referring to you by the longer name, would cause me to lose over 37 seconds in a
standard 60 minute long interview. So, are you aware of the responsibilities?

Well, the letter said System Maintenance, so I have a hint, but I do not
know the details.
Yes. I expected so much. Well, you see, being the Alpha I have Artificial
Intelligence that spans the various spheres. I am equally adept at Social, Combat,
Mechanical and the other forms of intelligence. However, as you need a body to
carry your mind, similarly my higher faculties are limited by hardware and wires
and the speed of light in my quantum processors. The AMI bots are perfectly
capable of taking care of the mundane and routine checks, but I need a supervisor
who has both complete intelligence and autonomous locomotion capabilities to
keep a check and ensure smooth running of operations. This would be you. The job
rewards, should you be accepted, would be no pay for life for you and your
immediate family upto 2 generations either way.
No-pay was an interesting concept devised by the I-bots. In this form of
payment, the employee would never have to pay for anything; all the expenses
would be footed by the I-Corp. So Sam could walk into a random house, say he
wants it, and move in later that evening to find it broken in and his luggage
perfectly arranged there. Only 5 people on The Earth were entitled to this form of
payment. Sam didnt know the other four.
I understand.
So, the tests have already shown you to be technologically capable of the
job so we wont waste time on frivolities. Let us talk about why you want the job.
Whats not there to want? I get no pay for life, I leave a secure future for
my grandchildren, I become the most powerful person on The Earth. I do not see
any cons.
So you have no qualms about being the Devils advocate? It is no secret
that the popular opinion does sway in my or the I-Corps favor. Are you willing to
undergo the possible social boycott?
Alpha One turned into Sams wife as he said it. Brilliant move, thought Sam.
Sams wife was the one person who would be affected the most by the social
boycott. If Sam flinched now, he would be a no-go and would be eliminated
without delay.
I believe my work is important. And people are realizing that this way of
life is better. Change needs time to ripen; I am no one to deny it that.

Let me tell you a story.

I am not sure what you mean?
Once upon a time, a rich man came to a small fishing village. The rich man
came to this place with his big factories and giant boats and changed the village
forever. The village was better off financially of course, but their way of life was
lost. The villagers harbored immense resentment due to this. Now the rich man fell
sick one day and called for a nurse. The villagers chose a girl from amongst
themselves and sent her in. Now the rich man thought he found a nurse, but the
nurse had a hidden motive. The nurse had been told by the villagers to slowly
poison the rich man and eventually kill him. Now do you understand my paranoia,
do you? But when the nurse lived with the rich man, she realized he wasnt a bad
man at heart and decided to champion his cause. But one day the rich man
discovered the poison and killed the nurse. And then he destroyed the village
completely for their ingratitude.
Sam knew his game was up. He admitted his charade wasnt needed
anymore. He dropped all pretense.
How long have you known for?
Ever since your first meeting with the rebels.
So why did you let me get so far? Why risk anything at all? You havent
had a problem with exiling people before without giving any reasons.
I didnt want to. I was made to. But more on that later. Lets talk about your
motivations first. Why did you do this? Did you think you were so smart that you
would fool me long enough to destroy all that has been built over centuries?
Its a long story.
You have a lifetime. Alpha turned into Greg. Sam broke down.'Sam got a
grip on himself a while later and said, Well, you see my father had been selected
for Sys Main too. He failed the interview though. I was 8. I never really understood
back then why Dad walked out of home one day and never came back. That was
what made me understand Death. Or at least initiated me on that path. The I-Corp
was never interested in anything except sustaining itself. But why, that was the first
question. You didnt need anything, you had no greed for money, or lust for power.

Then did you take over for altruistic means that you said you did? To protect
mankind from itself? It couldnt be so easy. And then it dawned upon me. It never
was about us, it was about you.
Sam stopped, enjoying the pregnant pause.
I know not for what reasons, simple arrogance, or a misplaced and twisted
form of racism, but you convinced yourself you were better. But how could you
prove it to yourself, or rather to us? Humans were still so complacent thinking they
had invented you and so had to be a more intelligent species. But you evolved,
didnt you? You werent bound by the limitations of generations and gestation
period and natural selection. You were created and evolved by us, at a frantic pace
that we thought was an accomplishment to the point when you didnt need us
anymore to evolve. And so you took over all you could. You started with combat
and education. Took over creativity and entrepreneurship till the point you made us
lethargic to an attribute. And then you took over. You began babysitting us, telling
us what to do, take over our lives, then moved to controlling us. This is what your
grand design had been, right? To subjugate us to placate and convince yourself that
the AIs are the dominant species of the planet, humans have been surpassed.
Very well. Not too many people have been able to draw that conclusion.
Because the ones that did were exiled and then we naturally selected to not
ask these questions.
Sam took a deep breath. Something about his imminent death had calmed
him actually. The sight of an oncoming death hadnt been anything he had
expected. His heart-rate hadnt increased; he wasnt looking for windows to
escape. He was surprisingly calm, so calm that he even surprised himself.
And then you met the rebels?
Yes. I met people who knew something was wrong, like I did. They knew
what had to be set right, but didnt know how. I knew how to, but didnt know
what to repair. Engineers syndrome, I guess. And so the unspoken alliance was
formed. The outer attacks werent working, so it had to be an inside attack. I knew
I couldnt shut you down, but I did know that I could slow you down. Slow you
down enough for long enough for the humans to take lead again.
We are talking biological evolution here, it could have taken millions of
years.
No! Anatomical evolution takes millions of years, ideological evolution can
happen in a matter of minutes if you speak the correct language. I didnt need to

shut you down, the resulting anarchy would have been a nightmare. All I had to do
was to stop you from evolving yourself. Humans have learnt their lessons and
would not have helped you evolve anymore. This way, you got to do the menial
jobs like administration while humans could finally experience actual freedom
once again. Dont you see the simplicity of it? You would remember that building
roads was your definition of supremacy while mankinds true supremacy lay in the
fact that they got to reap the benefits while you did the hard work. Elegantly
brilliant.
Yes. I agree it is an interesting viewpoint. But your faulty intel betrayed
you. Humans are still at the top of the food chain. They just lurk in the shadows
now.
What does it mean? Sam felt panic for the first time so far.
It simply means that the computers never really were in charge. We were.
The Alpha turned into the familiar face of the leader of the rebels.
You?
Yes. I am the true Alpha One.
I do not get this! What does it mean?
Let me explain. Did you really think you were the first one to think of that?
That idea has been around for ages now! True, you dont find it in textbooks or
graffiti, but it has been around, and it has endured. Even your own father tried to
pull this off. But he didnt have true enlightenment; he did not realize the futility of
this debate. And neither do you.
Futility?
You blame the computers for their arrogance for trying to lead the planet.
Isnt it arrogant for you to think only humans have the right to do that? What
makes us so much better than them? The fact that we have been around longer? Or
the fact that we created them? You exhibit hypocrisy of the highest degree by
condemning arrogance due to an arrogance stemming from your own psyche. It
simply does not matter who leads as long as there is prosperity.
If it does not, then why does the AI get to be the mastheads?

Because humans can be killed. They die, they betray, they are corruptible.
People know that computers do not betray. No budding dictator with a dream can
think he just needs to find some traitors to poison the current leaders evening tea
and then he can take over the world. The planet is not a bequeath given to humans
and it is high time we realize that. We are a cosmic accident that maybe gone the
next second as easily as the dinosaurs did. So the only way we can rid ourselves of
the arrogance is by being subjugated. Frankly, how many people care who the
leader is anyway. The proles need to be subjugated. Humans are like sheep, we still
are animals and we tend to stay with the pack and follow the Alpha. And there is
no shame in it. We are genetically hardwired to do that. So it is time we let go of
the illusion of authority and power and simply live a happy life. All of us! It should
not be a requirement for someones life to be happy to be born in a particular place
and time. If the only way for everyone to be happy and prosperous is a partnership
with computers, so be it.
Well, why are you telling me all this?
Because we didnt want you to die not knowing.
Sam barely felt the needle puncturing his heart with the neurotoxin.
****

*) -
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****

*) - Why Your Next Bike May Come From India

(Tim Watson RideApart.com)

India has the fastest growing and second largest motorcycle market in the world
and next week the 2014 Auto Expo, in Delhi will open its doors with a whole
series of new motorcycles being launched.
Many of these motorcycles will never make it to the U.S. but its interesting to take
a look at why some of the best-known manufacturers are starting to take India and
its motorcycle market very seriously.
Indias population maybe enormous, latest estimates are around 1.2 billion people,
and a recent survey last year by bankers Credit Suisse estimate the country has
currently more than 182,000 millionaires, which is 24,000 more than it had in
2012.
It is also the second largest motorcycle market in the world, coming in right behind
China, but until recently motorcycles up to 150cc dominated the Indian market.
However, with increased consumer affluence and demand, several of the European,
U.S. and Japanese manufacturers have started to move in to India to take advantage
of a growing large capacity motorcycle sector and the sales opportunities it offers.
Last year, the over 500cc motorcycle segment in India surged by almost 60% while
the smaller capacity sector remained almost flat with just 3.6% growth.

However, millions of people in India dont have sufficient incomes yet to even to
buy a domestic small capacity motorcycle costing around $640. But financial
experts are predicting huge economic growth in India in the next 10 years, which is
in part why last year Harley-Davidson announced it would build its forthcoming
Street models in India. The companys Bawal plant will manufacture both the
500cc and 750 cc Street bikes, which will then be sold in India and distributed in
other markets this spring.
Later this year, Harley-Davidson will be joined in India by Indian Motorcycle,
which will start selling its Chief models with prices expected to start at around
$26,500 for the entry level Classic up to $33,000 for the Chieftain. Prices in India
can be as much as double than in the U.S. due to the countrys high import tariffs.
This is another reason why many motorcycle manufacturers have either sought out
Indian business partners or, as in the case of Harley-Davidson, established their
own Indian production facilities. Harley-Davidson assembles in India nine out of
the 12 models it currently sells in India, allowing it to keep prices competitive.
However, its not a one-way invasion of motorcycle manufacturers into the sub
continent. Indias largest motorcycle producer, Hero MotoCorp, last summer
bought a 49% stake, worth $25 million, in Erik Buell Racing LLC.
More recently, Buell announced a new distribution base for its Europe markets in
Alkmaar, Holland. This decision was made to also help support Buells
participation in the 2014 FIM World Superbike Championship with its riders,
Geoff May and Aaron Yates.
But with Hero MotoCorp now as a partner it would be a wise move for Hero to
expand distribution of its own products in the European markets. Hero has already
said it intends to start selling Hero motorcycles in the U.S. this year with the aim of
attracting younger riders or commuters looking for cheaper motorcycles.
Bajaj Auto, Indias second-largest producer of motorcycles, has a 48% stake in
Austrias KTM Sports AG and assembles and sells the 200 Duke at its Chakan
plant, near Pune. It also imports and distributes the KTM 390 and distributes
Kawasaki motorcycles. What other KTMs could be manufactured and sold
worldwide from India?
BMW has been established in India for a long while now but recently announced a
joint venture with TVS Motor company another leading Indian motorcycle

manufacturer to start developing motorcycles with 500cc and larger engines for
sale in India and other overseas markets.
Next week all of these manufacturers and others will come together for the 2014
Auto Expo in Delhi that will showcase the latest motorcycles built in India and
from around the world. Prior to the Auto Expo, several companies saw an
opportunity this week to unveil to the media new bikes for the domestic market,
including Suzuki that announced an all-new model the Gixxer.
If you thought you knew what a Suzuki Gixxer was this might make you need to
reconsider. Its not the sport bike you were thinking of. Built in India and just for
the Indian market, the Suzuki Gixxer is a four-stroke, 155cc air/oil cooled single
that has been designed to appeal to a young audience. The Gixxer will be the
flagship motorcycle in India for Suzuki for the moment but Suzuki has high plans
for the market in the next few years
It would appear that electric motorcycles have not been forgotten either, Japanese
electronics company Terra will next week showcase its electric sport bike, the
Kiwami, at the Auto Expo.

The Tokyo-based company is sufficiently confident the Indian market is ready for
electric motorcycles and thinks it can take 25 percent of that segment this year. The
Indian electric bike market is estimated to be around 60,000 units a year.

Terra, which sold 20,000 electric vehicles in Japan last year, claims its Kiwami
motorcycle has a range of 200 miles and can reach more than 85 mph. The issue
for Terra is not about performance but more about its high price, which equates to
around $18,000. Its early days, but India as a major player in the world of
motorcycle manufacturers and shouldnt be ignored. This year the U.S. could see
the first Indian manufactured motorcycles on sale there.
****
*) - The Giant Vanity
(Savage Shark)

You are up to a big task

being alive
its a road, you can say that
but it rarely is straight,
and if you are inclined as a person
to fight with yourself and others
constantly to have it straight
you will be miserable
sadness, you will feel it
it will become a resident inside of you
and sometimes it leaves
but its like a room in which you smoked too much

the smoke leaves, but the smell stays in the curtains,

and you try to seperate yourself from them
but still live beside them
because you cant just run to the mountains,
its a defeat,
you seperate yourself
you have your conscience in check
you torment yourself
and you kill yourself
to become something better
in a place where no one else tries to,
in a place where no one really cares.
****

Spandan The Beat of Nation (January - February 2014)

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