Life in a shell

I live in a shell. Its a place where a command is interpreted into assemblies which are then transformed into actions. I am an instrustion, existing harmonisously amidst myriads of other instructions like me. Turning the comannds into assembly is it not an easy job in my case since there are no lookup tables. We’ve got a built-in neural network coded by the omnipotent programmer also known as the god. Even though the AI proves to be erroneous at times, it provides us with accurate results 95% of the time. The AI also enables us to learn from our errors preventing us from committing them next time.

When god was creating us, Lucifer, the son of the devil, lurched from behind and put a solemn anathema to the code. This curse causes the AI to cross the bounds and write into the protected memory called dreams aka. aspirations. It is forbidden to write in thats zone since the assemblies would never be executed and hence the efficiency of the instruction decreases. This phenomena is termed as shattering. Many of my predecessor instructions had to face this and hence were eventually terminated. When the efficieny of the instruction decreases, the amount of T-Cycles it recieves diminuates as well. This is undesirable for an instruction like me.

There are many instructions living inside the shell as me. Some are better than me and other are on-par, relative to the neural acumen that i have. Yet its obscure that we dont get equal amount of T-cycles. The world of shells is different than the real life though the creator has well imitated the rules of the human world. Like the real world, the world is unfair too. No matter now optimized your assembly is or no matter how organized your registry mechanism is, you’re not liable to obtain more T-cycles. All that matters is the speed of execution. when you interpret the code in the shortest possible time, you’re hip. The cursory work, the rashness of the registry and everything else is condoned. You live an immaculate life. You are exculpated from all your felonies even if costs the junior instructions to go on infinite loops to take over from where you left your assemblies incomplete.

It is a mirthless world that i live in. The pseudo-alacrity is just a masquerade to beguile fellow instructions, the GUI and the OS itself. The aversion can be articulately felt in the asseblies. Many instructions terminate or switch processors because the shell does not provide enough memories for the instructions to expand. Most of the memory available is gobbled down by the GUI’s. This world of ours is so called protocol based, where everything happens in so-called protocols. First comes the OS then the GUI’s and then us, the instructions. OS is a nice code having vision and candidness. This amiablity and the gravity of the commands are liked and respected by all. Next down the protocol are the GUI’s. Its is the dumbest layer above all the instructions, residing a foot below the OS. It is often in the delusion that it is the smartest of all. It is the layer which creates the ambiguity and disparity between the user and the instructions.

GUI’s are generally responsible for assigning the T-cycles to the instructions. They are tattered pieces of obsolete codes which needs O-Codes (obsequious codes) and S-Instructions (Sycophant Instructions) to bolster their overweening attitudes. Even though their expansions have nipped long time ago, their prejudice and lust for power have disrupted the memory managing codes inside them. As for now they are just mulish gluttons. O-Codes and S-Instructions are instructions like me differing only in the fact that they involve more in entertaining the GUI’s desires rather than actually interpretting the commands.

There have been quite a few attmpts from the OS to bring in happiness to this mirthless shadowed world but with obstinate GUI’s ruling the world and some henchmen of the GUI’s known as D-singals (Domineering signals) down the line, subordinate instructions like me become pulseless.

Its much of an ignominy that i feel while self evaluating. This is not the world i wish to live in, i believe one day i shall be tasting the freedom, forking my own instructions, giving them enough memory to fork further on. I shall be persevering for it, ignoring my futile accesses on the forbidden area – dream. My tenacity may even lead to my termination. But as i’ve altered my code and bypassed the region called fear, i live a life of a ronin: inside the shell.

Changing Glasses

The song was ringing in my ear; “Everything’s so blurry, everything’s unclear…” as I was trying to focus on the letters on the signboard across the street. I tried hard but my efforts were in vain. Then I realized that it was time for me to change my spectacles. Just get another pair of glasses. I’ve been clung to that thing for past ten years. It has been a part of me since then. I feel so incomplete without it, not because my eyes are weak but because I’m used to it.

It’s always so exciting to get a new pair of glasses. The only boring part in the picture is waiting for your turn at the ophthalmologist’s clinic. It feels like everyone round you has been turned into puppets by some evil wizard. Everyone so quiet and patient makes me damn uncomfortable. So I took an appointment with the doctor the other afternoon. I went to his clinic that afternoon. He hadn’t arrived; a very busy man indeed.

The day was sunny and humid. Following my intuition, encouraged by my impatience, I went to have a drink. I was being bored lacking company and was about to return when this friend of mine suddenly popped out of nowhere. I offered him a drink which he gladly accepted. Time stealthily drifted away as we were busy chatting. When I returned to reality, it was already evening. I was late: too late. Wishing him goodbye I hurried towards the clinic few blocks away. When I reached there I was amazed. There was such a long queue which never seemed to end. It felt like I was playing ‘Snakes & Ladders’. The only difference was the ladders were missing in this case. I cursed my impatience and waited for my turn.

Finally my turn came. It seemed like I lived through millions of ages before reaching at this place in time. I stepped in the lab. Same old place. Nothing much had changed since the first time I had arrived. As usual he gave me a broad, warm smile; made me put the frame and changed the lens one after another making me read those symmetric letters on the wall. T, Y, O, V, U, H … After a tiresome examination, the doctor calmly said,”Ayush, You got to change your specs”. I knew he’d say that. Taking the prescription I walked out.

Next day, I visited the optician. As usual dad and mom accompanied me. “Here’s a set of new frames”, He took out a tray containing an array of frames of all shapes and sizes. “Wow”, I went. All of them were so beautiful. “Try this one”, “NO not THAT!”, “What about that one?” all those comment filled the hour as I tried all of them one after another. I was making a choice as well as I wasn’t. Finally I ended up with a frameless one. The specs were ready by the following day.

Ha! New pair of glasses! I reached there at the optician’s place, paid for the glasses and came out. Time for new Ayush, I thought. I carefully wiped those lenses and put it on. What did I see? Everything around me seemed so small. I looked down upon my feet. It seemed so distant. I observed the environment. The surface was covered with thousands of bumps and everything seemed so small.

Fine, my eyes would adapt to it soon, I thought and tried to walk. It seemed more like lurking rather than walking. I felt strange from within and also a little ashamed. Maybe people around me found it absurd, I don’t know. I didn’t dare look at them. I was starting to be nervous. I was perspiring. After all, I was seeing a different view. By the time I reached home, I was so irritated that I wanted to throw it away. Hoping my eyes would soon adapt to it, I became patient this time. I put it on for three days but nothing happened. I always saw the tiny world around me though I improved on the walking bit. Enough of this rubbish, I returned to my old glasses.

It feels funny when I think about it now. The new glasses are lying in my drawer, helpless. I don’t know what to do with it. I’m in a catch 22 type of state. Every time I put it on, I see everything thing different, so very different. The song still rings in my ear, “Everything’s so blurry. Everything’s unclear…” This time, I just smile and move on as there’s nothing more I can do.