Data's quest for Human-ness - 2

Hello Data

Lt. Cmdr. Data is an android. He (Some people might object calling an android a ‘he’ instead of an ‘it’- by the time you are done reading this, you will agree that he is not an it) looks humanoid, albeit with a slight olive-green tinge. He is one of the central characters of the popular science-fiction television series "Star Trek – The Next Generation". Played by Brent Spiner, a fabulously talented actor who performs amazingly well, one may add. Like all good androids (there is just one another android in one other episode – more about him later), he has superhuman strength, a humungous data-bank for a memory, and a positronic neural network for a brain. He is perfect in every sense of the word. He lacks the understanding of and ability to experience human emotions. He himself says he would gladly give up all his superior strengths to be human.

Data's Quest for Human-ness - 1

This is an article written long ago... I am presenting it as a series since the original is too long for a single post.

"I am superior, sir, in many ways. But I would gladly give it up, to be human."-- Data in ST:TNG "Encounter At Farpoint"

Demystifying the title

The title of this paper requires some explanation. Who is Data? Why is he on this quest? And why are we talking about human-ness? Is learning about ‘human-ness’ even in the ambit of the objectives of this course? By Human-ness, we mean the best intrinsic qualities which make humans human - a sense of duty, the spirit of exploring, the soul of a poet, the heart of a warrior, the loyalty of a Cassio, the ideals of a Mahatma, the sense of wonder of a Don Quixote, the idealism of a Mandela
‘Meaning’ is definitely in the scope of the course content, as the title suggests. One may then, therefore, take the liberty of assuming that the ‘Meaning’ referred to is ‘Meaning of Life’, and be further expanded/narrowed down(?) to refer to ‘Meaning of Human Life’. Why this narrowing down? Simply put, the answer to this question is that one might as well begin with understanding our own species before venturing out into analyzing the ‘Meaning of Life’ for other species.

I hate them all!

Companion
Paine = bread (in French)
Hence, companion is a person you break bread with.

I don’t know which of them I hate the most. RK, AVJ, KV, KM, SP. I hate them all.

The smart one’s saw it coming. They left early.

Why do I always get myself into this?

Everytime I get to a new place, I make friends. Friends who are so close. Like family.
And then they leave. Or I leave.

And it’s so hard.

And I tell myself – Pankaj, you stupid bumbling oaf. You never seem to learn from your mistakes.

And I resolve.

Next time, I will not let this happen. I will not allow myself to be drawn into this closed-user-group friendship thingie. I will keep to myself. Make no friends. Not get close with anyone. And I won’t be hurt when this happens.

Not after it happened at IIT when I overstayed because I liked the place so much. Not after it happened again at Pune. Not after Finland, surely. Not after the Ahmedabad campus.
But, no. I don’t stop. I keep doing it over and over again. Like clockwork.

I am a dynamic person – I tell myself. Always keep moving. Leave the past behind. But, yet, I manage to do it. All the time.

Stupid. Utterly foolish.

I don’t know which of them I hate the most.

KM. Yes, I hate KM the most. For his brilliant four thousand watt smile under his spiderman eyes. For his legendary coffee-breaks. Coffee-breaks were such an intrinsic ritual of the office-life then. What was the point of coming to office if the entire CUG does not go for their coffee-break and gossip routine together?

Or maybe I hate RK the most. Yes. Definitely, I hate RK the most. For those intelligent conversations. And for always being there for any sort of company needed on any sort of break. Be it coffee or dinner or chai at the bundi or anything at all. Mind you – the guy does not eat. But he will accompany you to hell if you ask him.

Or maybe I hate AVJ the most. Yes. Definitely, I hate AVJ the most. For always dropping me home. And making us all go through the twenty thousand pictures of her engagement. Yes – all twenty thousand of them. Seventeen times. DAILY! Or for her – does my hair look pretty like this? Or like that? And for the “So Pankaj, which of the girls standing there do you like the most?” Come on, with my luck - if I like anyone, I am sure they are married.

Or maybe I hate KV the most. Yes. Definitely, I hate KV the most. For always laughing at my stupid jokes. And for her rendering of nostalgic memories of days long gone by. And for all the gyan on marriage and married life. And for the discussions on shoes and dresses and haircuts when she and AVJ are together. And for the fights on who should get dropped home first.

Or maybe I hate SP the most. Yes. Definitely, I hate SP the most. For always being there. Brothers-in-arms, we called ourselves. Infinite chai-breaks and dinners. For the sense of competition he always gave me. And the sense of stability.

Or maybe I hate all of them equally. For being such a close-knit family. For baby-ing me so much and spoiling me. For never making me realize that I am away from home.

No matter. I hate them all equally.

For leaving me alone and going.

Damn.

When will I learn?

Solitude

The first day is not as grueling for Group 1. Correction. The first day is not as gruelling for Group 1 as the second day is going to be. How insensitive of me - making careless comments - like a Camp David day not being gruelling. Poor Captain's heart would have skipped a beat.

No Torches.
Let your eyes adjust to the night-light.
Use your torches only to signal obstacles, ditches, etc.
No speaking.
No talking.
No communication with the next person.
Observe the monkey in your head.
Silence him.
That is the goal.

Hop, skip and jump.
A step here, a quick jump there, loose gravel beneath my slipping feet. My feet not stopping to gain a foothold. Before one foot touches the ground and decides it is safe enough to trust, the other one is a step ahead. And so on.
Nightmare for the person following me. Perfect for me.
Hop, skip and jump.
At the head of my team now. Shadows of people and the leaves, the kirr-kittarr of the night.
Hop, skip and jump.
At the head of team one now.
Pankaj Shinde - STOP! WAIT FOR YOUR TEAM!
Pitter Patter. Plod Plod. Team 1 goes through. Wry smiles on each one's faces as they pass me. Big scowl on mine. Fuming.

DumbCharades - We are the T20 in this group in trekking. Blank Stares. Pitter Patter. Plod Plod.

Team 2 - COUNT! ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR .... FIFTEEN.
Morisaheb - hallu chala.
Big scowl.
Up and Down. Loose gravel. One step after another.

Fresh cool night air. Deep crisp breaths. Going uphill. Wear the track suit. Branches and twigs in everyone's faces. Swish. Swish.

Plod. Plod. Pause. Plod. Pause. Plod. Plod. Pause.

This plod-pause-plod-pause routine of Team 2 leader is totally screwing with my hop, skip, and jump routine. Deep, crisp breaths. Hope dinner is good. Warm dinner. Maybe some chicken. And a warm sweet dish.

Microeconomics - The cost of one person getting lost versus the cost of one person denied his hop, skip and jump. A leader would take the latter any day. He/She needs to ensure everyone is safe. Deep, crisp, cool breaths. Maybe some nice steaming soup as well.

Orion. Three wickets, wicketkeeper, batsman, silly mid-off. The only constellation I recognize. Gray clouds. My leader and her Plod. Plod. Pause. Plod. Pause. Plod. Plod. Pause. No room to express my hop, skip, and jump.

Looser gravel, slipping feet.

TEAM 2 - HOLD HANDS!

Loose mud, leaves in faces. Swish. Swish. Pant. Pant. Slipping footholds.

Plod - There's where my right foot should go next - Pause. Plod - There's where my left foot should go next - Pause. Plod. Slip. Pause. Hold. There's where my right foot goes next - Pause. No slip for me. Plod. Plod. Quick downturn. There's where my left foot should go next. Slower. Deep Breaths. Cool, damp night air.

Plod. Pause. Plod. Slip. Pause.
Hop. Pause. Skip. Pause. Jump. Pause.
Plod. Plod. Slip. Plod.
Hop. Skip. Jump.
Plod. Plod. Slip. Plod. "WATCH OUT". Pause. Plod.
Plod. hop. Skip. Pause. Jump. Pause.
Plod. Hop. Pause. Plod. Slip. Pause. Hold. Skip. Plod. Jump. Plod. Pause.

You never realise the value of the plod-pause-plod routine until you are up against loose mud going uphill...

How do you describe the feeling?

Operational rigor always. I remember writing this earlier as well. The fear is never
conquered. Next time I go bungee jumping, or I go climbing mountains, the fear will still be there. It's just that I'll be able to deal with it knowing that I dealt with it earlier. But it never goes away. It always is.

Big moment - W, KK and P come and give tips. This is awesome. Concentrate on the X's. The Y will follow. The blue sky. That blue sky is yours. Know the moment.

Don't think about it being your first time. Don't think about it being 150 feet.

Just think about not holding the railing. Just think about not jumping off but doing a dead man's fall.

Don't look down.

This is scary.
It's OK to be scared. You are not used to it.
Can you check if the leg harness is fit OK?
It is. I can see it.

And I jumped off. I did a perfect dead man's fall. I flew is a better description. Arms outstretched, eyes on the ground as I went forth to embrace the earth. The wind in my face, gathering speed with every passing moment. The ground getting closer and the rocks bigger.

That is until the first yank.

How do I describe the feeling? How easy it is to describe colours? RGB values and you are done. Or are you? You are done describing the colour in a scientific manner. Classical definition, as Phaedrus calls it. But what of the romantic manner of describing the colour? The warmth an orange evokes, the action warranted by a red? The calm of blue, and the seduction of black? There is no manner of capturing the "romantic" definitions in the "classical" framework. Hardly surprising.

And yet I go - trying to put prose to describe poetry.

Getting back to the point - The feeling.

Classically the entire process during the jump can be divided into two sections. This classification presupposes that the experience till just before the jump - the fastening of the harness, the fitting of the footholds (for lack of a better word), the getting into the cage, the squaring of shoulders (no point meeting fear with droopy shoulders), the war-cry - Hooligans - as the climb begins, the climb to the jump-point, the swaying of the cage as the crane pulls it up, the calm steadying influence of the jump-master (There is superb operational rigor here as well, more about this later) - is all pre-jump

(WOW - just thinking about it again makes my heart pound louder)

The experience post landing - congratulations from hugging friends, the satisfaction of another milestone completed, the thankfulness to the Lord for being alive, Pankaj - that was perfect, (One less thig to do before I die - were my exact words to W on getting the harness off) , the elation of having done something for the first time in your life - is all post-jump.

Then the main jump itself divides itself into two clean parts. The division is purely temporal - this division lends itself to beautiful division in terms of the dichotomy of feelings as well.

The division is thus - before the rope tautens (J1) and after the rope tautens (J2). In J1, you are flying - you can hear the wind in your ears, you are scared for your life - you don't know if the rope will hold. The ground hurries to you. You have maybe a split second to feel this part. You are not aware of your hands or your feet. You are not aware of your heart pounding in your ears. There is no trace of your last meal rushing up (actually, rushing down) your throat as you half-expected it to. No. None of this. Just the wind and the closing in earth. It is the first time you would have felt anything like this. There is fear. There is happiness. There is not many a thought in your mind - May be a taller bungee jump would give one more time for thought.

Then the rope tautens. This is a significant moment. Now you know for sure that the rope is secure. Irrespective of how much some one tells you and how many times you see others jump off, there is still that nagging 0.1% doubt in your mind. Will it really hold? What if I am the one person on which fate and equipment play cruel? But once you feel the first yank, you know that it holds. Now on it is moment after moment of up and down motion not too different from any other amusement park ride.

Or so you think.

One moment you see the sky, the next moment you see the ground. Sometimes you see the horizon. You lose sense of what is above and what is below. You try to find a point of reference which will hold still.So that you can anchor your mind, your sense of direction and orientation.

Unfortunately, there is none. Not one single goddamn point staying still in the whole wide world.

That is when you decide to let your brain stop trying to process the visual inputs and let your heart beat - extremely irregularly, at that - to the swings of the bungee

Black Friday

Rarely have I ever gone in to watch a movie with such high expectations and come out satisfied. No unnecessary song and dance. No unnecessary monologues. No needless drama. No needless tears and no mindless action. The script stays tight and true to the plot. And the actors do justice to the script.

It was fitting that I went alone to see it. It was fitting that I saw it in a second-rund theater rather than the glitzy multiplexes. It was fitting that the movie was interrupted for a briefest moment (a power cut?)

For many of the people around, it was just a movie. It was entertainment. Not for me. It wasn't just another movie just as it won't be just another movie for those millions of mumbaikars who toil to fulfill their burning dreams.

The headmistress of our school - Ranjini Madam - lost her son to the bomb blasts in the Bombay Stock Exchange. She used to be the last authority in school. All the students were scared of her. She seemed to lose a bit of her edge after that.

12th March 1993. Thirteen years ago. Is it enough time to heal such pain? Is it enough time to soothe the scars? Ask those who lost their near and dear ones. They alone can tell.

Nik told me about his experience in the Bombay riots. He used to stay on Malad Link road then. He was standing on the balcony watching the city below. There was a muslim guy who had come to see his sister. The auto took a right turn to its destination. A bunch of hindus somehow got wind of the fact that a mussalman was in the auto. They took a kaccha road diagonally to cut the auto. Dragged the boy out. Torched him. A live human being on fire.

Such mindless hatred. Such thoughtless killing. What is it about riots, about mobs that reasonable, educated individuals turn to animals. Being in a group - men turn to beasts. Is it some sort of fantasies coming true? Ask those who were part of the mobs.

One can rationalise human tendency to distrust people from another race, another location, another custom. It is a behaviour derived from millions of years of evolution. Nature in its infinite wisdom preserves those behaviours, just as she does those organs, which are crucial for the survival of the species. That is also how one rationalises the human need to stereotype. One race meets another on virgin land. They are a threat. They are unknown. They are competitors for meagre supplies of food and water. And hence, the mistrust. Only when the basic necessities are abundantly fulfilled do these barriers fall. Trade begins. Slowly. Cultural, Educational Exchange. Exchange of ideas. Slowly. Blossoms. The basic requirement though, of abundance of supplies for both parties must hold. Friendship exists, but only among equals.

The parallel between this model of levels of human interaction between two clans and the individual's growth along Maslow's hierrarchy is uncanny. Basic needs first. Economic standing next. Love and Respect. Self-actualisation - the last. And thus also in case of communion between two communities.

Enough intellectualisation for a day. Getting back to my basic needs of sleep now! Sweet dreams...