I was engrossed in my work, having been at it for so long that the day had broken and it was now time for lunch. My computer keyboard was pleading for rest, and the CPU was running hot, yet the task remained unfinished.
"Hey brother, can you hear me?" (The voice came suddenly.)
I looked around. The closed room was silent save for me. 'I must be hearing things,' I thought.
I paid little attention, but the voice came again. This time, I was startled and stood up. I looked around, but no one was visible. Still, I called out, "Who is it?" There was no answer.
As I was about to sit back down, the chair suddenly rolled away. Its wheels helped it flee, but lacking practice, it moved haltingly, stopping, and wobbling a bit. I grabbed it. "How is this possible? How did it move on its own?" I was surprised but not scared. Who fears a chair? Well, maybe a government chair, but this was a corporate one—it was loyal to no one, belonging only to the one who sat on it. Why fear such a disloyal thing!
But the question remained, "How did it move?" I brought the chair close and checked its wheels. I looked to see if someone had played a prank on me, but found no fingerprints.
I prepared to sit down again. It darted off again. I tried to hold it back, but its frantic thrashing suggested a life within, resisting me sitting on it. I gripped it hard.
"Let it go!" a voice said. This voice sounded like the first one.
I spoke to the chair, which was still struggling and jerking, "Was that your voice?"
"Not it, I spoke," the voice came again. This time, I knew the sound wasn't the chair's. The voice came from behind me, but there was no one there. I released the chair. It scurried away from me and stopped in a corner.
I thought, 'Now I'll have to do office work standing up.'
But when I approached the monitor, it mocked me. Two round eyes and an angry face emerged on the screen. It muttered something in a machine language and then shut down.
I was furious. I picked up the CPU. Suddenly, the voice spoke.
"Leave it alone," someone said.
"Who is it?" I shouted, "Who is playing this ridiculous joke? Come out!" I slammed my hand hard on the table.
"Hey! Why did you hit it? It hurt!" I was still not afraid. "Maybe this is a bad dream," I whispered. I looked at the chair and surveyed the entire room. The room contained two desks, two chairs, two computers, some cabinets, a fan, and a waste bin. All these objects looked different today. These inanimate objects seemed alive.
No one was speaking, but the silence was screaming.
Just then, Vijay entered my office. "It's one o'clock, aren't you going to eat?"
I didn't answer him. I was standing in contemplation. He came to me, put a hand on my shoulder, and asked, "Is everything okay? You look anxious."
"Nothing, just thinking about something."
"Fine, let's go eat now."
"No, my work is left. I have to submit this report to the boss by tomorrow morning, and there's a lot of work remaining. I won't even get time to die today. You go and eat, I'll eat later."
He left. The sound of his shoes slowly faded and finally vanished.
I was exhausted now. The weather was cool, but I was sweating, so I switched on the fan, but the fan didn't turn.
"Oh! So you are also involved in this conspiracy! What on earth is going on? Is today some special occasion that all these dead things have come alive?" I yelled loudly.
"We are not dead. You are the humans who walk around, run, and lament. Actually, it is you people who are dead," the voice came again.
I spun my eyes around. I saw a speaker. I walked up to it.
"You must be the one bothering me in this office. After all, who else is here who can speak?"
"Why? Did you forget yourself, you donkey?" (The voice echoed.) "Even if you find me, you can't do anything to me, understood?"
"Why? Who are you that I can't even mess with?"
It fell silent again.
My patience was wearing thin. I couldn't figure out whose bitter voice this was. I was starting to feel hungry too; lunchtime was passing.
Then an idea struck me: 'Why don't I unplug these speakers? If they are really talking, they will need electricity. If I disconnect the power, they will also shut up.'
I went and unplugged the connections for all the speakers. I waited to see if the voice still came. After a long silence, I thought, 'It's fine now. It must have been the speakers making the noise.' But I was wrong! Suddenly, I heard laughter.
"It seems this voice will be the death of me! Who are you, man?" I pleaded in anguish.
And suddenly, the lights went out too. The room was now completely dark. I yelled at the darkness, "Why are you laughing? Did someone die?"
The voice said, "First, you have tormented me, taking my life all day long. Now just sit quiet."
"All day!" (I thought.)
By then, the electricity had returned.
"What is your name?" I asked.
There was no answer, just complete silence.
I didn't ask any more questions after that. I remained quiet. There was a moment of silence. My body, tired from last night's work, and this current ordeal had completely worn out my mind.
I took out my handkerchief to wipe the sweat, and my wallet fell out.
Sweaty and exhausted, as I glanced into the wallet, I saw my mother's picture inside. Suddenly, I plunged into a heavy darkness of sorrow. 'Do I really remember the last time I spoke to my mother?'
'You are not a good son,'—that sharp voice struck directly at my conscience, and I began to hate myself.
"Who are you, ultimately?" I yelled, roaring in anger and frustration.