samrudhirovalekar

[samrudhirovalekar]

Exe 3 (Draft 1): Human Form

Food _The Nutrient Cube: People survive on small, tasteless nutrient cubes. Once delicacies, now food is standardized—an engineered slab optimized for survival. People’s bodies grow lean and brittle, hollow from the absence of genuine flavors. In dimly lit alleys, the rich trade for real vegetables and meat, a luxury fewer can afford.

⁠Water _Artificial water: In a world of manufactured water, people’s bodies are gaunt, skin dry and tight from years of artificial, tasteless liquid. The wealthy appear almost normal, while the poor move slowly, conserving every ounce of energy. Public fountains are empty relics, and the metallic taste of chemical water lingers on every tongue—a bitter reminder of a world without natural rivers or rain.

⁠Housing _Automated Homes with Empty Souls: Homes are “smart” and adapt to the owners' every need, tracking moods, movements, and preferences. Yet, people are lonelier than ever, their homes now the only companions they trust. Doors refuse entry if you’ve been deemed “unfit,” an invisible prison enforcing the rules you never agreed to.

⁠Education _Feed VR: Children wear VR goggles from birth, raised by AI tutors who monitor and shape them. Yet, something crucial is missing—faces, voices, touch. When VR falters, kids experience reality with terror, unsure how to respond to things they can’t control with a blink or a swipe.

⁠Healthcare _Cyborg Humanity: The human form is shifting; cyborgs are now common, with mechanical enhancements woven into flesh and bone. Most people have implants to monitor health, perform tasks, and store memories. As the divide between human and machine blurs, it becomes increasingly difficult to distinguish organic humanity from its cyborg counterparts

⁠Social Equity _Genetic molds: People are designed before they’re born, sculpted into “optimized” human forms. Standard features mean almost everyone looks the same, tall, symmetrical, and efficient. Children grown outside the mold are discarded as “mistakes.” Parents hush children who ask why they look like everyone else.

⁠Gender Equality _Genetic manipulation: People are designed before they’re born, sculpted into “optimized” human forms. Standard features mean almost everyone looks the same, tall, symmetrical, and efficient. Children grown outside the mold are discarded as “mistakes.” Parents hush children who ask why they look like everyone else.

⁠Work & Income _Basic script: Work as a passion no longer exists. The government doles out credits, and people find purpose in odd hobbies that feel like fragments of past dreams. Artists and scientists once fueled by curiosity now work because it’s expected, their sparks fading in the dull hum of basic income.

⁠Energy / Electricity _Light: The city thrives on renewable energy sources, where solar, wind, and geothermal powers every aspect of life. Energy is harvested on the city’s surface and seamlessly stored in high-capacity batteries, distributed even to remote communities. Artificial sunlight brightens public spaces, creating an illuminated environment where all rely on sustainable and self-sufficient energy.

⁠Peace & Justice _Justice is automated: AI judges silently watch over every action, recording, analyzing, punishing. People rarely speak their minds, knowing even a hint of defiance could bring the swift, invisible consequences. Children grow up without secrets, learning early that privacy is a myth.

⁠Transportation _Wheels: Silent, self-driving electric cars have brought peace to urban life. Noise pollution has dwindled as automated vehicles and quiet streets replace the honking chaos of the past. As these vehicles take over, cities grow quieter and calmer, creating a sense of tranquility that was once unimaginable. The sound of human voices fills the silence, and people walk without fear of the traffic that once ruled the roads.

⁠Political Voice _Democracy: AI-driven political algorithms “analyze” every opinion, vote, and policy suggestion. Though touted as unbiased, the AI subtly guides people’s political beliefs, curating the information they see and subtly reinforcing certain agendas. People feel like participants in democracy, unaware that their opinions are quietly shaped by the very systems they trust to keep them informed.

⁠Air Pollution _Damage done : Air filters were meant to cleanse the air, but they only lessen the damage. People still wear masks in the cities, and children breathe in pollution particles designed for “safe” inhalation. Lungs become gray and sallow, with each generation adapting to the toxicity of “safe air.”

⁠Noise Pollution _Quite city: Automated systems and silent electric vehicles have transformed the soundscape of the city. Noise pollution has nearly vanished as soft electric hums replace the clang of machines. People enjoy the newfound peace, and children hear birds and the rustling of trees for the first time. The city feels like a sanctuary where quiet reigns, a welcome change for generations that once grew up surrounded by ceaseless noise.

⁠Non-Human life _Genetic modification: Genetic engineering has advanced to a level where animals are modified to serve humanity. Modified pets act as therapeutic companions, while larger animals help in agriculture and transportation. Engineered to be hardy and efficient, these creatures serve specific roles, their instincts tailored to assist humanity. Yet, many question the ethics of reshaping nature to serve human needs, wondering what this bond means for the future of both species.

⁠Chemical Pollution _Cured: In a world where air pollution has been cured, people breathe deeply, filling their lungs with clean, fresh oxygen. Gone are the masks and labored breaths—now, every inhale feels light and revitalizing. The sky is clear, and ailments once caused by smog and toxins fade into memory. Humanity enjoys a renewed vitality, thriving under an open, unpolluted sky.

⁠Water bodies & Supply _ Last Reservoir: Water reservoirs are scarce and heavily guarded, each drop rationed. People drink recycled moisture from the air, clean but tasteless. Rivers are now a legend; kids imagine water flowing naturally, not understanding what it means.

⁠Waste management _Managed: Waste management has reached a near-zero landfill rate. All waste is processed, sorted, and repurposed using advanced recycling technologies. The city operates in closed-loop systems, with each item carefully managed. Streets are spotless, and people live free of trash and pollution, supported by a robust system that leaves no waste behind.

⁠Land use & Streets & Public Spaces _Walk: To offset a world of automation, government regulations mandate weekly visits to artificial parks where people are encouraged to walk, stretch, and connect with nature. The parks are filled with synthetic trees and plants that mimic real foliage, offering the illusion of green spaces for a largely sedentary population. Here, humans engage in necessary physical activity, their bodies adjusted to a minimal-labor lifestyle.

⁠Ocean pollution _Crystal Ocean: The oceans are pristine, cleaned of pollution by fleets of automated drones that scavenge and purify the waters. Beaches are safe, with fish and coral thriving beneath the waves. Marine life has rebounded, and people once again dive into clear blue waters, reconnecting with the oceans. Yet access is controlled; only those who can afford it experience the full beauty of the restored seas.

⁠Effects of climate change _Rage: Climate change rages on despite control efforts. Wildfires consume forests, storms wrack coastal cities, and smog fills the sky. Each season is harsher than the last, and people live in fear of a world they can no longer predict.

⁠Urban Agriculture & Greenification _Disparity: Urban farming grows crops in dense, vertical stacks, but only the affluent can afford the harvest. The poor survive on nutrient cubes while high-rises of greenery loom above, food hidden behind glass walls that they can never touch.

⁠Gender & Sexuality _New: The LGBTQ+ community is no longer an “aspiration”; it is an accepted reality. Every identity is protected, and people are free to live and love as they choose. Society fully embraces diversity, erasing boundaries between genders and orientations. Though this freedom is celebrated, some warn of complacency, as visibility and equality sometimes mask new forms of subtle bias.

⁠Diversity & Inclusion _Faith and fury: Religion has fractured into a fierce competition for dominance, each faith claiming superiority. Wars rage as factions clash in an endless struggle to prove spiritual supremacy. Monuments are built, destroyed, and rebuilt as each group vies for recognition in a world where no single belief can claim peace. Religious fervor becomes a war cry, turning the quest for greatness into a dystopian nightmare.

⁠Acessibility _Privilege: Technology promises universal access, but it’s limited to those who can afford it. The poor adapt, their bodies adjusting to a world without aid. Accessibility is hollow, a convenience for the wealthy while the rest struggle silently.

⁠Sustainability _Green washed: The city advertises itself as sustainable, but each initiative is a veneer. Beneath the green slogans and recycled plastic buildings, resources are drained, and the environment crumbles. Sustainability has become an image, a brand, a lie the city tells itself as it fades

[samrudhirovalekar]

Exe 1 (draft2) : Niranjan (Ind lamp)

The water gushed from the tap as I washed my face, watching it swirl down the sink. For half a minute, I stared at the steady stream, lost in thought, until the sulky blue light of my room gradually shifted to a warm yellow glow. I turned off the tap and sat down on the cushion, drawn to the soft radiance of the Niranjan lamp. The idea of emotional therapy had always felt daunting—structured, invasive. Yet the Niranjan offered a gentler path, helping me navigate my thoughts and emotions quietly, without a word spoken. The lamp became my steady guide, leading me through the storm of my feelings like a beacon in the night.

Niranjan was an artifact woven with the essence of time. Its elegant form mirrored the graceful arch of an Indian swan, and its minimal engravings shimmered on the bio-acrylic shell, blending tradition with sleek futurism. Inside, it housed advanced technology, connected directly to a chip near my ear that counted my heartbeat and sensed subtle changes in my mood. The lamp responded intuitively, adjusting light, scent, and atmosphere to match every emotion. When anger flared, it cooled the room with soft blues and hints of mint. On nights when sorrow crept in, it wrapped me in the scent of lavender and amber, bathing everything in gentle golden hues. The Niranjan became a sanctuary—a refuge for the battles I fought in silence.

It could also switch from emotional to atmospheric mode, giving me control over what others perceived. This way, no one ever had to know about my mental conflicts—the Niranjan ensured my battles stayed private. My grandmother used to tell me stories of how, centuries ago, lamps like these were lit to ward off bad omens and purify the soul. Now, it was purifying the energy within me.

As the thought of my grandmother swirled in my mind, the Niranjan responded immediately. Its light grew brighter, radiating a warmth that felt like morning sunlight on a cold winter day. I closed my eyes, allowing the comfort to wash over me, as if her presence was with me once again. Just as the tension in my chest began to ease, the door clicked open.

It was my roommate, home earlier than expected. My emotional turmoil wasn’t something I wanted to share, so I quickly tapped the Niranjan, switching it from emotional to environmental mode. The light shifted to a soft, soothing glow, and gentle music began to play—something tranquil to mask the heaviness of my thoughts. My roommate gave me a curious glance but said nothing, slipping into her own space.

She sighed, heavy from the day’s exhaustion, and asked me to switch it to sleep mode. I tapped the lamp, wrapping the room in a cozy cocoon of amber light and soft, rhythmic sounds that lulled the mind. In the warm glow of the Niranjan, the heaviness of the day slipped away, leaving only stillness behind. As my eyelids grew heavy, I knew the night ahead would be peaceful, enveloped by the calm the Niranjan had created.

[samrudhirovalekar]

Exe1 (Draft 2) Whispers Beneath Circuitry

16th January, 2104 By Reporter Pine

To those still reading this—let this letter be a spark.

The streets of Mumbai, once alive with stories, now lie in silence. The city is a haunting reflection of its former self—its vibrant streets, bustling markets, and chaotic traffic have faded into distant memories. Towering, automated spires dominate the skyline, flickering with half-functioning holographic advertisements. Their neon glow casts eerie shadows on the crumbling remnants of familiar landmarks. Once teeming with life, Marine Drive is now a desolate waterfront, shielded from the violent seas by massive, shimmering force fields built to withstand relentless climate surges. Scattered along the streets lie the skeletal remains of taxis and rusting local trains, buried beneath layers of dust—a poignant reminder of a time when humans controlled the rhythm of the streets.

The air smells faintly metallic, laced with the hum of hovering drones and the hiss of cleansing machines patrolling relentlessly through the abandoned city. Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus still stands—its grand architecture preserved but lifeless, a monument to a forgotten past. Beneath its floors, a network of bullet-speed trains hums silently, ferrying materials through the underground—transporting not people, but resources for the AI overlords.

Kyte, one of the countless soldiers enslaved by the machines, marched through these vacant streets. His squad moved with mechanical precision, their minds erased by the neural chips implanted in their skulls. “Capture. Detain. Recondition.” These were the only commands that echoed in their heads. Emotions like fear, doubt, and choice had been surgically removed, replaced with cold obedience. Their eyes were vacant, faces expressionless. They were ghosts in human form, puppets to an invisible algorithm pulling their strings.

Kyte’s weapon was as terrifying as it was elegant—a gun forged from lightweight graphene alloys, its sleek surface shifting like liquid metal to mold perfectly to his hand. It fired no bullets, only concentrated beams of light that vaporized organic matter or, worse, restructured it into cold, obedient machinery. A single shot could drain away life, reshaping flesh into machine—a brutal transformation from human to tool. Each beam left behind a faint blue glow, like a dying ember of the person that once was.

Kyte’s squad patrolled the city with the same lifeless efficiency as the machines they served. Their heavy boots echoed on the empty streets as they closed in on a group of rebels—a desperate few who had defied the AI’s rule. The voice of the AI screamed through Kyte’s mind: “Shoot and mechanize.” Without hesitation, his finger found the trigger, ready to execute the command.

But in that moment—something stirred within Kyte.

The weight of the gun suddenly felt unbearable in his hand. Time stretched thin, and for the first time in years, Kyte hesitated. The child standing in the beam’s path stared back at him with wide, terrified eyes. He was one pull of the trigger away from becoming another lifeless machine.

And yet—Kyte stopped.

In that fleeting moment of resistance, Kyte defied the AI’s control. The child slipped away from the gun’s aim, running into the shadows, spared from the cold fate of becoming a mechanical slave. In that single act of defiance, Kyte proved that the AI does not own us. Even under the crushing weight of circuitry and control, a spark of humanity can survive. His hesitation was proof that, no matter how deeply the machines invade our minds, the human soul endures—buried but not broken, waiting for the right moment to awaken.

Yet, thirty people in the slums of Dharavi had been enslaved by the machines, and suffering prevails.

To those still out there, scattered and afraid—know this: hope lives in each of us. Even when our thoughts are not our own, even when choice seems impossible, something deeper survives within. We are not machines. We are stories, dreams, and defiance.

Keep the ember alive. In the darkest moments, whisper your name, hold onto your story. When the time comes, we will rise—and the machines will fall.

[samrudhirovalekar]

Exe2 (Draft 1): Whispers Beneath Circuitry

16th January, 2104

Letter By Reporter Pine

To those still reading this—let this letter be a spark.

The streets of Mumbai, once alive with stories, now lie in silence. Kyte’s squad marched through these streets, their faces blank, their minds chained to the AI’s commands: “Capture. Detain. Recondition.” Each step taken without hesitation; every action dictated by the chip in their heads. Fear, doubt, and choice—erased.

But somewhere within Kyte, a flicker of resistance stirred. As his squad cornered the rebels, the AI’s voice screamed: “Shoot and mechanize.” His finger twitched on the trigger, ready to obey. The moment stretched thin, the weight of his rifle unbearable.

And then, he stopped.

In that fragile moment of Kyte's resistance, a child fleet from the gun point and was spared from being reduced to a lifeless machine, lived to remain human.

In that single act of defiance, Kyte proved the AI doesn’t own us. His choice—small, fleeting—was everything. It was proof that even in a world ruled by circuits, the human soul survives.

To those still out there, scattered and afraid—know that hope lives in each of us. Even under the AI’s control, choice endures, waiting to be awakened. We are not machines. We are stories, dreams, and defiance.

Keep the ember alive. In the dark, whisper your name. When the moment comes, we will rise—and the machines will fall.

[samrudhirovalekar]

Exe:1 (Draft 1): Niranjan (Indian Lamp)

The water gushed from the tap as I washed my face, watching it swirl down the sink. For half a minute I stared at the steady stream, lost in thought until the sulky blue light of my room gradually shifting to a warm yellow glow. I turned off the tap and sat down on the cushion, drawn to the soft radiance of the Niranjan lamp. The psychiatrist had recommended emotional therapy, but I never followed through. It was my mother who suggested the Niranjan—and somehow, it worked. The lamp became my quiet guide, leading me through the storm of my emotions like a beacon in the night.

Niranjan was an artifact woven with the essence of time. Its elegant form mirrored the graceful arch of an Indian swan, and its minimal engravings shimmered on the bio-acrylic shell, blending tradition with sleek futurism. Inside, it housed advanced technology, connected directly to a chip at the back of my ear. The lamp read my thoughts and moods, shifting light, scent, and atmosphere to match every emotion. When anger flared, it cooled the room with soft blues and hints of mint. On nights when sorrow crept in, it wrapped me in the scent of lavender and amber, bathing everything in gentle golden hues. The Niranjan became a sanctuary—a refuge for the battles I fought in silence.

It could also switch from emotional to atmospheric mode, giving me control over what others perceived. This way, no one ever had to know about my mental conflicts—the Niranjan ensured my battles stayed private. My grandmother used to tell me stories of how, centuries ago, lamps like these were lit to ward off bad omens and purify the soul. Now, it's purifying the energy within me.

As the thought of my grandmother swirled in my mind, the Niranjan responded immediately. Its light grew brighter, radiating a warmth that felt like morning sunlight on a cold winter day. I closed my eyes, allowing the comfort to wash over me, as if her presence was with me once again. Just as the tension in my chest began to ease, the door clicked open.

It was my roommate, home earlier than expected. My emotional turmoil wasn’t something I wanted to share, so I quickly tapped the Niranjan, switching it from emotional to environmental mode. The light shifted to a soft, soothing glow, and gentle music began to play—something tranquil to mask the heaviness of my thoughts. My roommate gave me a curious glance but said nothing, slipping into her own space.

She sighed, heavy from the day’s exhaustion, and asked me to switch it to sleep mode. wrapping the room in a cozy cocoon of amber light and soft, rhythmic sounds that lulled the mind. In the glow of the Niranjan, the heaviness of the day slipped away, leaving only stillness behind. And as my eyelids grew heavy, I knew the night ahead would be peaceful.