Pseudo Writer

All of it seems well and good, until when its not. When the dread you were avoiding, comes crawling, creating a sense of security, as it creeps upon your fate. And then you realize you weren’t ready, how could you be? You never considered it a threat, being intentionally blind. But now you can’t turn your back, it’s someone you know. There’s not a lot you can do now, except face it. With an unsteady hold on yourself, now you fight. I don’t blame you dear friend, at least not now. You just made one mistake; you believed that if it was too far, it could never happen to you. and as you closed your eyes, you were out of reach of everything; With all courage I can muster, I ask, how did that work out for you?                     -Sushant Kumar Das

This place where I have lived for twenty years of my life, trust me, it has a beautiful soul. I remember it as an old man, sitting at the corner of my street, with eyes full of warmth and wisdom, that follow my existence to this day. I very often used to complain to him, why he preferred brown and dirty soil, when the new kids were adopting grey. I shouted at him, for every time I fell on the soil and got dirty while playing. Smiling at me, he often entertained my arguments and laughed at my tantrums. But he never said what he wanted to, he would just use his calloused hands, and remove the dust from my knees. I would go home dirty, but never hurt. He left the corner of my street years ago, and some new kid lives there now. But I still find him hiding among clouds, looking at the new kid who levelled all that he had worked hard to preserve, under layers and layers of grey. He understands the world doesn’t stop, but still when it rains and the grey hides, he hopes to see those little pa...

Swings had welcomed her bright eyes, and allowed her to fly into the skies. This is before she found her wings; but people never understood, why she loved the swings. The rusty chains, the croaking tenor, was noise to many, but a melody to her. She learnt that even metal sings; but people never understood, why she loved the swings. It's an artifact, from her world very old, but she still loves it for the stories it told. Bit by bit, nostalgia it brings; but people still don't understand, why she loves the swings.                  -Sushant Kumar Das

Very vividly, I remember that day. You understand, right? The first time when you step out, in the cold and terrifying world, and then realize it might not be as nice as you pictured in your head? Yeah, I speak of that moment. The moment you step out of your home, and take a last look towards it. And the gravity of the next few steps makes you want to just stop and sit. You remember the feeling, don’t you? You want to sit and never let go, for the road ahead seems way too hard. And the underestimated comfort of home seems like a much more appealing card. But it is not all fear and anxiety. For at the same moment you remember, that there was a reason you stepped out. This comfort may all be so soothing for you, but eventually you will have to jump out. So finally it all comes to an end. You power through the moment of doubt, for there is nothing else you can do. You cannot afford to lose this internal battle, for you’ve got something important to prove. Please remember dear, that this m...

I remember like it was yesterday, he was strolling so idly in the park, with a resembling grace of sunshine, his eyes a canvas of ambitious spark. A sense of familiarity hung in the air, and I couldn’t stop my urge to ask him, “Have we ever met, oh little boy?” He answered me as if reciting a hymn. “I’m the forsaken path of your present, I’m the one you left behind, sir, I’m the boulevard of beautiful trees, that lost its place in your mind, sir.” “But then why meet me outside, boy, what is it you want to remind me? For my wisdom seems inadequate, boy, be my eyes for what I can’t see.” “I am a figment of your imagination, I appear when you doubt your mind, sir. I symbolize the happiness you could have had, if your choices were a little more kind, sir.” “But at every point in my life, dear boy, I have helped people in any way I can. My whole life has been a struggle, oh boy, to be accepted by people as a kind man.” “I am aware of who you are as a man, your boo...

What will you do, when it all comes back to you? The ones that you hurt and the ones that hurt you too. What will you do, when it all comes back to you? In the rains of July, when the tears would hide, when the heavens will weep for the moments that slide, what will you do? And when light would be dim, and the sun won’t rise. when all your insecurities would splinter your wise, what will you do? What will you do, when it all comes back to you? In the autumns between winds, when spring seems afar, when the people you abandoned find some other favourite star, what will you do? And when the leaves fall, that were once lush green, and you feel them crumble, right beneath your feet, what will you do? What will you do, when it all comes back to you? In the winters without snow, when cold creeps to your feet, when all you wanted to say, you find dying with the heat, what will you do? And when you finally find the courage to say what you want, but the ones who were eag...

"The development of full artificial intelligence could spell the end of the human race….It would take off on its own, and re-design itself at an ever-increasing rate. Humans, who are limited by slow biological evolution, couldn't compete, and would be superseded." -Stephen Hawking Meanwhile... "Robot passport checker rejects Asian man’s application because 'eyes are closed'." -New York Post Ah well... I don't think this is what he had in his mind when one of the most brilliant and admired minds of our century made his statement (Or maybe he did. Sir Stephen Hawking had a weirdly cool sense of humour). Since the very inception of the concept of AI, science fiction has, with all due credit and respect, created a rather extravagant image of AI in the minds of common people. This has come to a point where thinking of an AI that is, in any parameter, inferior to a Chitti or a Terminator seems dull to them. Since the incidents that are going to be n...