Storywallah

Not everyone graduating from IIT go on to become high earning executives in multinationals . A few like me get into other domains like writing and a few like Deepak or Phunty get into queer experimentations.

Phunty had the uncanny knack of developing queer machines and systems no one had thought of before. It enamoured me as to how he gathered the motivation to work on outlandish projects all by himself with little or no help from the outside world.

Phunty was a genius but always found time to read my blogs or short stories to comment on them , suggesting improvements and rational inputs.

I too found it enlightening to visit him on weekends to hear about his latest experiments and to read some choicest lines from my latest literary pursuits.

Phunty rushed out to welcome me when I reached his dilapidated home cum office cum lab on a Saturday afternoon . After the customary cups of coffee and generous puffs of cigarette , he looked into my various scripts to share his thoughts and ideas .

“What are you working on lately?” I asked looking around at the scattered papers , stationery , books etc.

Instead of answering my question , Phunty resorted to ask me a question himself.

“Tell me mate , do you often get stuck with writing for a new script?”

“Yes , I do get into writer’s block , every often than not.” I confessed.

“And when you change from one genre to the other don’t you usually get stuck?” He asked , as if with much concern towards my profession.

“Yes indeed .” I agreed . “Scripting the plots into a particular genre at times becomes way too difficult.”

“Well , if we have a machine developed through our capability in AI and cybernetics that can write stories in different genres , based on some basic inputs from the authors , won’t it be handy ?” Asked Phunty.

“You mean a software?” I asked . “But book writing , singing , sketching etc are best done by human interventions . Machines can’t feel.”

“Even your readers do not feel these days.” Stated Phunty . “People are more mechanical in their appraisals these days. They don’t have the time or patience to read through the feelings expressed by the author in black and white . It is more of a mechanical job now.”

“No Phunty .” I replied . “No machine or software can replicate these skills. There are so many factors to take care in a book . The genre . The settings . Narratives . Character . Flow of content . The syntax . The twists . Not everything can be set up by a software . “

“Even playing chess was believed to be of a human domain only.” Chuckled Phunty . “But ‘Deep Blue’ ended that belief when it trounced Gary Kasparov. You have to set the inputs properly.”

“But that does not necessarily mean that some other program may replicate Jeffrey Archer?” I said almost dismissively.

“Boy , there is a unique combination between science and passion .” Said Phunty . “If passion can be combined with enough science with the knowledge of the art of writing , something like this can well be achieved .”

“My dear Phunty .” I patted him. “Science and passion are both stuffed into you but what about the art of writing?”

“Well , not for nothing had I been reading all your writings so deeply over the years .” Smiled Phunty.

“Do you mean to say that you have been working on a story writing machine?” I asked wide eyed.

“What’s wrong in it?” Asked Phunty . “It might be the new rage of the century.”

“What will you call it?” I asked back.

“Storywallah.” Said Phunty with a sense of pride.

The discussion meandered on from story to story , author to author and from one character to the next .

In between , amongst cups of coffee and puffs of cigarette we talked about recent discoveries and the state of the nation.

Phunty as always did most of the questioning about the various processes of scripting a novel and the readership patters of the society as of the recent times .

Our discussion continued till late at night with Phunty almost forcing me to write a few paragraphs of my newly constructed novel through his strange looking typewriter .

Over the years , I had grown so fond of Phunty that I made no qualms to oblige .

It was a strange machine . Every word that I typed appeared mung longer to get printed and when it did appear on paper , the inscription appeared a lot different to the fonts of a normal computer . Yet I kept typing to let Phunty be pleased with my efforts . He kept making several adjustments to the machine as my fingers pattered on tirelessly .

It almost ran into midnight when we realized that neither of us had eaten anything . Phunty ran into to house to organize some sandwiches since that was the only staple food a sworn bachelor like him could have afforded . After having munched through the tomato filled sandwich . I typed in a few more lines with Phunty peering over my shoulder closely.

I could feel his hot breath against my ears and could tell even without looking at him that he was excited. Did my story line excite him ? Or was the new typewriter that he had designed and constructed cheer him up with the inscription it made on paper.

I was feeling tired but his excitement urged me on and in no time I had typed in a whole chapter .

The night rolled on and the silence outside the dilapidated building was only punctuated by the patter of the typewriter and Phunty's heavy breathing.

At last , I stopped and arched my back . Phunty did not urge me to type any further . He rather insisted that I retire into the bedroom for the rest of the night.

"Seems a good machine ." I sated looking at the typewriter. "But it types a bit slow."

Phunty only smiled in response and lead me to the only bedroom upstairs.

"Goodnight writer." He said as I advanced towards the bed ."It wasn't a typewriter in which you had been working so long."

"Then?" I asked almost spontaneously.

"It was Storywallah." He said before leaving the room.

After a week , Phunty called me over the phone to say that his machine had written the first story which he was sending to me through post.

I received it in a couple of days. Read it in no time .......And now , you have also read it . Did you like it?