WORDS VERSUS MACHINES
I scribble down a few words, dissatisfied- I draw a line
across them, and then another and more- till the words are half-visible. What
do I want to write? What do I want to prove? Or rather, what do I want to be
made known, so it stays forever? And would words really connect to my thoughts
and re-describe them precisely? They might not, but then they might- in-spite
of the fact that they might as well mean so much more.
Somebody once asked me, how are your words so much important
in a world defined by automobiles, machines, struggles and jealousies? How
would your words reach the minds of the scattered population without my
machines in a world so infinite, so chaotic? I thought and I thought, and I
lost myself! My words were eunuchs back then- they were not enough to deliver
my pain. Today, I write. I've thought- though thoughts never end- but I found
the clue, or the clue found me. Machines are concrete children of abstract
ideas- inhuman- they can be killed (and by ideas themselves), broken down,
re-made. Machines were once upon a time ideas- ideas which grew into words- and
then themselves. And my words would
write of your machines- of their greatness, of their errors; they would write
of the jealousies and the struggles in their making- their consequences, their
failures and victories. My words would not give you the details- the
procedures, the instruments, the batteries, the cables, the meters, the pressures,
the sensors, the motors or the regulators. My words would not suggest
calculations- I’d almost failed in Math. But my words would write your story- the
inspirations, the pains you took, the hopes you had and the ones you lost, the
clouds that formed in your mind at the thought of failure and the happy tears
you shed at the hint of success. My world of words immortalizes the machines
that have long ago lost their use, and value in your world.
My words would serve as ideas for the future generations of
your world and remind them of the pros and cons of the creation of more
advanced machines. And in return, your
machines would keep my words alive. My words are not superior to your machines,
but my words are enlightened to the fact that your machines and my words are man
and wife with no predetermined roles- none can do without the other.
