Dawn

by Rakesh K Kaul

  But maej was gentle with me, as always. ‘I was all alone now and the only one who was desperately trying to find an answer for his worsening mental illness. I loved your father, Dawn, and I really wanted to help him. I thought that with his knowledge, he could do good for the world. But he refused to accept that anything was wrong with him,’ she said, almost flicking away the lily in anger.

  ‘He said that I was a traitor to him for even suggesting that he was losing his balance. So, all I could do was to love him more and hope and hope. But at what terrible cost it all turned out to be.’

  With the Genecrinology knowledge that he gained under false pretences from my mother, my father had his laboratorians work on creating the first QuGene prototypes, both male warriors and beautiful females. He succeeded in creating the ultimate desirous experience of Vicarious Reality, a step above Virtual Reality, where the mind of the object that was being viewed was connected to the human via AIman—his wondrous machine intelligence creation. This way, the human’s sensory organs could view and experience the death pangs of the deer as it would get attacked, as its jugular vein would be severed by a big cat’s jaws, a vision as advanced as the eagle’s and so on. They could experience anything they wanted. Arman’s final glorious creation was the linking of the emotions of one’s QuGene partner and vice versa with AIman, leading to the perfect synchronization between a human male and a robot female. For this, a transmission rod called shikha was inserted in the skulls of both parties and You became That. This synthesis of quantum physics with biology had beaten the pure physicists who had stopped at hologram images!

  Maej gradually figured out Arman’s game plan. He only wanted to pursue his goal of the ‘perfected creation’, combining the knowledge my mother possessed with his mastery over technology. In his distorted world, he was fine, his mind spotless, perfect even. It was the imperfect human world that needed to be altered. My mother continued to be supportive of his genius, while patiently arguing that connectivity in life was not about the onlooker who was never satiated but about the giver who perceived unity in everybody and everything. All she wanted to pursue using her knowledge was the expansion of humanity and the need of practising empathy, which could only come from Niti—the wise pathway of Unified Life.

  She was concerned about safety engineering when it came to the QuGene robots and that QuGenes should not become the masters of the humans, but Arman rubbished it. ‘The alignment of QuGene goals with the human is all that matters,’ he would retort, and through that, one could even deploy QuGene robots in the battlefield controlled remotely by humans.

  In the end, ‘who should be in charge’ was the only question left. Arman wanted the QuGene robots to take over the role of women since they had perfectly programmed ‘values’ and their consistency and predictability made them better than real women. He clearly had his ability to feel emotions as his hatred of women had taken over his mind completely. This human-robot existence was his perfect world.

  ‘I would initially humour Arman and say that the charm of a woman lay when she had the freedom to live the way she wanted and be ever-evolving,’ maej shared. ‘Unpredictability was interesting, I would say. The ability and choice to do whatever we wanted, like all men. And robots could never be that. But he wanted a hedonistic, free society . . . I thought that QuGene was a toy for him and he would move on after a while, but little did I know what would happen.’

  ‘What a horrible thing to even think about. Replace women? How? And why would anyone even act on his crazy ideas? Was no one there to stop him?’ I looked at my mother, who seemed to have grown old in the span of minutes. ‘Ma,’ I now asked softly, ‘why did father not accompany us when you fled to this cave?’

  ‘Dawn, it is your father, Arman, who gave the order that all women had to be killed. It was him we had to flee from.’ Her eyes were red with rage.

  ‘Dad?’ I managed to croak. The answer punched a hole in my heart. No more words came out. Somewhere deep inside, while listening to her story, I already knew the answer to the question I had asked. But now, hearing these words uttered from my mother’s mouth, the mask had been brutally ripped off my father’s face.

  ‘How did he become like this? Go so deep down this hole of madness?’

  My mother stood up and turned her back to me. Looking at her own natural creation, she spoke, her voice steely, ‘He had started sinking deeper into his dark world and was refusing medical help. He had started referring to my clan, the Vidyadharis, as foolish or brainless. He thought that it was an insulting take on our ancient title of the Wise-ards. He then adopted the crypto title of “Instrument” and forbade people to call him Arman. He was one of the most powerful men on Earth with the money and technology to support him. One by one, his opponents disappeared or chose to work for him. His evil mind took over everything and everyone.’

  ‘But he was losing his balance! Why didn’t—’

  ‘Even in his madness, he was making breakthroughs. He was more intelligent than all others. And that led to the final showdown.’

  Ma fell silent. She turned to look at me. She was breathing deeply as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  I waited and asked her. ‘And then what happened?’

  With a deep sigh, she spoke, ‘His psychosis intensified and he became very violent and . . . and . . .’ She broke down and I could sense that she was letting me in on the final sickness of my father.

  ‘I want to see, ma. Turn on the Gotra Memory Gene, please.’ The authority in my voice was surprising, even for me, but I was seething. In that moment, I could have done violent harm to this man if he had been anywhere near me. He had brought out such intense emotions within me that I had never thought existed nor felt in all these years.

  The scene that flashed would remain indelibly etched in my memory forever.

  Ma had entered Arman’s pristine white office in his lab. I saw through my mother’s eyes, my father’s back facing us. He was embracing a young girl. She was looking straight at me. Her big, innocent eyes like saucers were constantly changing colour and were highlighted by her jet black eyebrows that met in the middle of her forehead. Her ivory, silicone face was framed in a platinum blonde pixie cut. While still reeling from this shock, I found the horror of horrors—an implanted shikha rod in the back of his skull. He had finally operated on himself to connect his mind with his prized technology. My inner cry resonated with my mother’s, ‘NO! How could you do this, you sick human being?’

  Arman turned around unapologetically, as the eerily beautiful robot stood still, awaiting his command. ‘How could I? Well, just like Madame Curie could when she experimented with radioactivity.’ Gesturing to the robot, he continued, ‘I am training her, and gladly, her learning algorithms are progressing fast in generating the right responses. What is the big deal anyway? People have evolved, woman.’

  ‘Stop it! Stop it! You said you loved me . . . and now . . . you betray me for this graphene robot? You had a chance to know love, be with a soulmate, but you’re sick!’

  Arman spat on the ground. ‘You are a fake scientist! All pioneering scientists are misunderstood by the likes of you.’ His manic eyes shone and seemed to reflect the jet-black silicone-infused spacesuit he was wearing. ‘You should regard with awe and respect this magnificent creation that represents the start of a new civilization!’ he said, pointing to the robot next to him. ‘With Quantum Genecrinology, I have liberated the three billion pairs of genes in a human being to assume any possible configuration. You can now be whatever you want to be, a personal sculptor of your own self! No longer locked into the image of your creator! Behold my unbeatable creation—AIman—in her human form and aurat roopa. She is supreme, isn’t she? Modelled after the Circassian beauty of yore who were so much superior to the overrated Kashmiri women. Now every human can have a Circassian clone for himself. Finally, supreme equality for all.’

  Mercifully, my mother had turned around and was running away from Arman’s lab, so I could not see my fa
ther and his horrible creation. I could hear mother sobbing, her eyes wildly searching the stark white corridor for the exit. ‘My curse upon you, Arman,’ she screamed as she ran. ‘It will be a woman’s anger that will cause an upheaval in the three worlds. And you will not be spared.’

  My mother shut the projector for the last time.

  I was so agitated that for the first time in my life, I stood up and picked up a glass vase with the dainty lily and hurled it against the wall.

  ‘So, this is what his rotted, addicted mind produced? This is all a delusional fantasy, ma! And that AIman or whatever—an evil cat with morphing eyes. So this is why you were holding back from me all these years when you said that something bad had happened to him.’ I was hurt and felt betrayed, the anger boiling up inside me. I was crying vociferously now, for and with my mother.

  ‘Yes, he gave AIman the eyes of a peregrine falcon. He wanted the best for his lethal creation. Looking back, it has become clear that he was a deeply misogynistic man. I could never get him to open up about his mother, but had found faint evidence that she had abandoned him at birth in an orphanage.’

  ‘But that’s no reason!’ I said, shaking my head vigorously.

  My mother nodded. ‘And AIman! It had . . . has been programmed to serve only one master. She will never desert him. And she reflects her maker’s likes and dislikes accurately.’

  I stood up. ‘I will fight her. And him. What could a simple robot do?’ I was absolutely livid. ‘My father had killed all the women in the empire. He now had to pay the price. I don’t care who he is or was.’

  ‘Dawn, you will be in great danger. You don’t know him or her!’

  ‘I fear no one,’ my eyes were red but full of tears. ‘Ma, you have taught me through your stories that all things come at a price, especially the bad deeds. It will be his turn to pay. Allow Yuva to teach me. Give me permission to avenge you.’

  My mother looked horrified. I had never spoken so boldly, let alone seek blood, my own at that.

  ‘I . . . I . . . Dawn, you’re the only one I have.’

  I hugged her tightly. ‘Do not fear him, maej. You don’t have to. Not again. I will be fine. But tell me, what happened after that day.’

  ‘I never saw him again. That event that day saved our lives. I ran away. I never looked back. My only thought was to protect you, and so, I came to this remote part of the world—in the Himalayas.’

  ‘He doesn’t know of this place? Even with all his technological powers?’

  ‘No. I had never told Arman about this place because it was only for our clan, the Vidyadharis. So, I made a home here. But I kept a track of his doings. After we fled, he very quickly started introducing the QuGene robots into the marketplace. Given his wealth, it was easy.’

  ‘But what happened to all the women?’

  My mother took a deep breath and spoke quietly. ‘All the men became too engaged with this new reality model. They had become obsessed with experiencing life through the new Vicarious Reality experience. Virtual Reality was old news. Everyone was taken in by the technology and what it could offer. Slowly, everyone was hooked to their own QuGene robot. Men could have a first-hand experience of the other life.’

  ‘No one protested?’ I exclaimed in bewilderment.

  ‘Well, something else happened. One fine day, Arman made an announcement that Dushita had appeared to him. And, in this grand revelation, Dushita had made Arman his representative and ruler of the world.’

  ‘A god-like entity in this technology-heavy world? And people believed this trash?’

  ‘It was said that Dushita had descended from the clouds on the horizon. He showed them the image. Dushita, the great legend! He approached Arman, his face hidden. Then he had spoken, “All my goodness will be yours. I am merciful but will not spare the guilty. You will have all my glory.” He granted every male the gift of immortality.’

  ‘Eternal life? How? That’s not possible, even with all the technology in the world!’

  My mother smiled a devastatingly sad smile. ‘Your father is a great technologist, don’t forget that. Arman executed this new order through his new technology of cloning the men first and then inserting in their brains their new, cleansed memory. This could be done repeatedly with perfect precision. Women lost their sons and husbands and brothers to this. They were increasingly getting depressed and found no way out. No one valued them anymore. They were belittled and tortured. So, they started taking their own lives, since they were not needed or valued anymore. A sad affective disorder they called Circassophrena.

  ‘They all took their own lives?’

  ‘No, some did. But there were many who still persisted and decided to take up arms. But then, he came up with his diabolical so-called Master Race Plan on 19 January 2990. The Gynaecide Day. He had picked that day deliberately knowing that it was your birthday. That sick man! There was a horrific massacre of all the women on the planet. He said that since women were creators of life, they were the antithesis of Dushita himself. He had become psychotic and misogynistic to such a degree that it was bordering insanity. He said that there was simply no need for women, now that the men were going to be immortal. All the men who had slain their wives were gifted a robot that promised a life of high living,’ she said sardonically. ‘He got them operated and now through the shikha electrode fitted in their heads, all their past memory of their wives was erased and replaced with a false memory of their new QuGene partner. In less than a day, the greatest mass murder in the history of humanity had occurred.’

  I was now trembling and sobbing along with maej. I couldn’t believe it. It was as if I could hear the global ghastly shriek that must have come from the five billion women in their last moment of agony. I clutched my throat. ‘I feel unbearable pain, ma. I cannot go on with these atrocities playing in my mind.’

  ‘Now you know why I hid everything from you, Dawn,’ she held my hands tightly in hers. ‘And why I never talked to you about your father. He’s a psychotic dictator. The same knowledge that fills you with horror fills him with joy. He celebrates Gynaecide Day as a day of Utopia—when light and liberation entered the dark world of the old order—devoid of the inferior and obsolete women.’

  I wrapped my blanket tightly around my shoulders. It seemed that the air inside the pod had gotten colder. I looked at my mother who seemed worn out as she relived those terrible moments. My mother then confessed that I had given her meaning and purpose and had proven to be her saviour in the early years of her exile.

  ‘What can we do, ma? What could I even do?’ I asked helplessly.

  ‘Niti. Niti is what has always saved humanity and brought it back to the right path when it turned Antilife. You have to follow it.’

  Her words echoed through my head. A sensation of fear crept through my body. ‘I believe you, but I am only sixteen. I am terrified of fath . . . Arman. I will no longer call him my father . . . for what he actually is . . . A monster! My father is dead to me.’

  I went and picked up the lily near the broken vase on the ground.

  ‘But he is powerful,’ I said, looking at the delicate flower, which only had a few petals on it now. ‘How can Niti possibly be more powerful than him, his robot army and Dushita?’

  ‘Lord Rama was only sixteen when he was asked to fight the greatest evil of his times.’

  ‘But did Ravana kill five billion women? This makes Arman the greatest murderer on earth. How can I defeat him?’ I disputed.

  My mother looked me squarely in the eye, ‘Whatever murderous instinct he has in him, you, Dawn, possess it equally. But you have more, a lot more. In you, there is Niti, your superpower. Also, never forget that in you, there is me.’

  Sarga 4

  The Tale of King Meghavahana

  AD 25

  Pandrethan, Kashmir

  The king’s coronation held amidst the snowy mountain peaks was a magnificent sight to behold. On his left side were his five wives, and on his right, Buddhist monks. Facing hi
m were his seated subjects, while at the back were his armed officers, standing erect. Bare chested, wearing a trefoil crown made of gold, he sat on his throne, looking every bit of the strong and benevolent man he was.

  An announcer sounded a drumroll and the buzz of the crowd stopped. He proclaimed, ‘By order of our new King Meghavahana whose kind heart is boundless, the slaughter of all animals is forbidden. From this day on, the butchers will be given a livelihood from the Royal Treasury. And from now, any religious sacrifice involving animals will be substituted with an effigy of melted butter and paste.’

  Just as the announcer finished, a Buddhist priest stood up and exclaimed, ‘O king, the love that you have for your subjects and all life is like the whiteness of pure linen when washed.’ The priest turned to the crowd, ‘Long live the king!’

  A loud cheer went up, ‘Long live the king!’

  It was then that the head queen stepped up. She curtsied to the king. ‘O ruler of the realm, I, Amrita, seek your permission to speak.’

  The king smiled, nodding to his favourite wife, Amritaprabha.

  ‘The Kashmiri noblemen invited you to come from Buddhist Kandahar in Afghanistan and rule Kashmir because the throne fell vacant. Your ancestor had once ruled Kashmir, and your fame as a kind human had spread far and wide. Your very first act has justified their choice, but should animals in Kashmir live only to die outside the kingdom? Won’t they simply be shipped out of the kingdom for profit? Tell me, O king, did the Buddha close his eyes to the suffering outside his palace?’

  The king mulled over the words of his favourite wife. She was the daughter of King Balavarman of Guwahati, a faraway ancient kingdom. He knew that everyone was waiting to hear his response. He stood up. ‘You, whose own limitless compassion led to the building of the lofty convent for pilgrims, are right to see my error. I announce a digvijaya military campaign today, a campaign in all directions, where I will compel all the rulers in the world to abstain from violence against living beings. The ahimsa law of non-violence will be observed as far as the eyes can see the horizon.’