The author of this story may well be the world's most prolific living writer of fiction who has written and published more than 1,250 novels and over 2,000 short stories
The selection at virtually any newsstand in Tamil Nadu will include several of his books; the back covers typically feature a ghostly, haloed image of the author’s head, complete with a trademark asymmetrical hairstyle and oversize sunglasses. In the mid-90s, the boom years of Tamil pulp publishing, copies of his novels sold in the millions.
Commonly bad-mouthed by readers of more serious Tamil literature, not least because of the liberal use of English words and slang in his prose, his stories are nevertheless good fun, highly imaginative, and cover an astonishingly wide range of genres.
Rajesh Kumar lives in Coimbatore with his wife.
***
"You are looking at one of the assembler robots that I have created. This one is for industrial use, and can be employed in construction and assembly. It has 200 arms. Suppose 50 sundry parts have to be assembled; this robot can complete the task in a few short minutes. It has been engineered totally electronically, and has no hydraulics or neutrolics in its design."
"Can we please see a demonstration?" asked one of the scientists.
"Sure," replied Pranesh, and led the 10 scientists to the demo room.
In the centre of the room stood the assembler robot, as majestic as a Roman soldier. The scientists gathered around it. Pranesh stood in their midst, and continued: "I have completely dismantled a car just for this demo. The robot will begin to function when I give a command. It will reassemble the car in a mere 15 minutes." He took a remote control out of his pocket, and, with a press of a button, brought the robot to life.
It lifted an arm and its eyes turned green. Pranesh then pressed the start button and ordered, "Assemble it!"
The robot turned to the car parts. The cylinder plug, cylinder head, carburettor, fuel pump and air conditioner found their respective places, and the car became whole again in just 15 minutes. "Would one of you kindly start the car? This room is large enough for you to have a test drive!"
A young scientist got into the car and drove it around the room, while the audience applauded loudly.
"Fantastic, Mr Pranesh!"
"Thank you."
"How high have you priced it?"
"This is the most significant invention of the year 2020," said a foreign scientist. "We must have this for our country!" Another interrupted him hastily: "No, my nation should have it first!"
Pranesh laughed. "Please wait! You must see my other creation, Idhaya 2020. I will name my price for both of them later. Whichever nation agrees to my price will get both the robots."
"What is Idhaya 2020?" asked one of the scientists.
"It is a female robot."
"What? How can there be a gender difference among robots?"
"I’m sorry, you must understand that my Idhaya is different. She is not a mere machine, as you imagine."
"Then?"
"Come, meet her!" Pranesh led them to a new room, and showed them another robot, made from silicon.
"She is my Idhaya 2020, a 100 per cent humanised robot. She can think for herself. Because of the bio-memory chip I have implanted in her, she can differentiate between good and bad, and make decisions. She can gossip with my wife, and has learned from her how to play the veena, how to draw kolams, and how to do beautiful embroidery. When my wife is busy in the kitchen, the robot helps her. And...."
"And?"
"She can provide good protection, as well."
"How is that?"
"She can shoot down a burglar. She can be a good friend and bodyguard to an independent woman. She has strong human values. I began designing her in 2015 and completed her in 2020; this is my lifetime achievement."
"Can it really differentiate between good and bad?" inquired a scientist.
Pranesh laughed. "That is the speciality of my Idhaya 2020. Why don’t you pose a few questions to her, and see for yourself?"
"Can it talk too?"
"Of course! It will speak like a woman."
One of the scientists stood in front of Idhaya. "Which is better for health, whisky or brandy?"
Idhaya opened her metallic mouth and spoke in a melodious female voice, enunciating every syllable. "Both are dangerous to health."
"Can AIDS be cured?"
"No."
"What about telling lies?"
"That is wrong."
"And stealing?"
"That is also immoral."
"Which is the crime that can never be forgiven?"
"Betrayal!"
The scientist who had been questioning her applauded. "Excellent, Idhaya! Can you give us a poem please?"
"Of course I can."
"Go on then!"
"Even with its death impending at dusk, it sheds no tears at dawn.
Flower!
From its smile, learn about life, oh Man!"
The scientist rushed to shake Pranesh’s hand. "Superb, Mr Pranesh! It is truly amazing what your bio-memory has achieved in Idhaya’s silicon body. So how have you priced her?"
Pranesh smiled. "Please wait. You should witness yet another demonstration of Idhaya’s abilities. I will quote the price after that."
"What is that?"
"There is a pistol hidden in Idhaya’s body. She can shoot down any assailant."
"Is there a chance of her missing her target?"
"Never. I have hung a rubber ball in this room—there, a 100 feet away. When I command her to, she will shoot it."
"Please!" urged the scientists.
"Idhaya!" Pranesh said. "Shoot that rubber ball hanging from the string!"
"Your wish is my command," replied Idhaya, removing a pistol from her waist. Her arm rose slowly and took aim—but not at the rubber ball! Even as the shocked scientists watched, the trigger was pulled and Pranesh went down in a pool of blood.
Idhaya turned to the scientists and calmly explained, "Pranesh taught me that I should shoot down anyone with evil thoughts. This man may have been a famous professor, a genius at creating excellent robots, a man of great intellect—but he had no human values! He had no idea of how to treat a woman. His wife Vatsalya was a beautiful and intelligent lady. She was my friend since the day I was born. She taught me to play the veena, to draw kolams, and to do embroidery.
"Today, the beautiful Vatsalya is no more. She committed suicide last month. Pranesh drove her to it. He was a sadist! How can any man be jealous simply because his wife is beautiful? Well, he was. Vatsalya was abused every day. He insisted that she sleep naked in an air-conditioned room. She was of a fairer complexion than he. So, do you know what he did? He poured a can of red paint on her head.
"I could go on forever listing the forms of his abuse. Vatsalya could not take it any more—and so she killed herself. I am not a human; I cannot shed tears for her death. Men like Pranesh may be geniuses, but they have no hearts, and so they should not be left alive in this world. I decided some time ago that I would kill him, but I wanted to do so with people like you as witnesses. Today, I was able to accomplish that. It is an embarrassment that he is the one who created me. I am ashamed, and so I would like to destroy myself, as well."
Having made this speech, Idhaya turned the pistol in slow motion towards her own temple, and pulled the trigger. The scientists watched in shock as the silicon head shattered into tiny cells.