87 years old. And there are certain parts of my life that I would have wanted to change. To make it more complete and more fulfilling. Maybe I could have learnt an instrument, maybe I could have trekked in the Himalayas and maybe I did not want to meet someone who altered my path. And many more things. As a young man, I did not want to regret anything I did. But age changes you. Being an octogenarian and alone, I feel otherwise. I feel down, I feel weak. I can see the end of me. But nothing can be done now. End life with small regrets.
I walked with the help of an electronic stick towards the wall and touched a sensor. The digital version of the WSJ projected itself full scale on the wall with dynamic photographs. As I waved my hand in a flipping motion, the pages turned in answer. And then, an advert caught my attention. I aired my palm to capture that portion and clasped it. The advert zoomed onto me and created a hologram in midair. The video was promising. It was an ad about how a genetic company would extract people’s gene, store it and recreate the person at a designated time in the future. I wondered whether that was actually possible.
I called the company up and found out that they boasted of a 100 member clientele. That very day, my automated mobile drove me down to their office and I signed up for the program.
I will recreate a superior me with no regrets.
They extracted the gene and stored it in a cryonic chamber. It’s time was yet to come. The rebuilding of an entire organism under controlled environments. They were experts at this now. 100% hit rate.
I am created. A man took care of me. He said that he was not my father. He showed an old man’s image and told that he was my creator. He guided me in every aspect. He chose my school, the education that I have to undergo, the car that I have to sit in etc. One day, I inherited a huge property and loads in exchanges from the old man in the image for reasons unknown to me and my father left.
Things began to dawn on me as I started living in his house. He was me. I was him. Was he my father? Why do I look similar to him? Or did he want me to complete something that he couldn’t? I pulled out his records from the central computer and shuffled through midair. I asked the computer who I was. The computer tried to connect all the data available on storage and come to a probable conclusion.
“You are Mr. Raghu, Mr. Raghu. Here is the proof” resonated the computerized voice and threw me an output of images and documents.
I stumbled and balanced myself against a wall. This is impossible. A man with no regrets?
87 years old. And there are certain parts of my life that I would have wanted to change. To make it more complete and more fulfilling. But no man is without regrets. But the idea is to overcome them strong. I am happy with what I have got in life. There is always something better than what we have experienced. It is a loop. We get stuck in that loop. Thank you, old man. If not a man without regrets, you have created one wiser.
“Computer, I have no regrets. Demolish”
The house came crashing down on me as I sat on the couch, holding my stick, a smile on my face.