Identity Question

The Identity Question

Riya was jumping with excitement like a young deer. Maran was trailing behind her, slowly walking with her big bag of books. Riya was exhausted soon.

“Dad, my legs are aching.” Riya said.

Maran bent down and lifted her. He started carrying her on his shoulders.

Maran was a typical example of a common man. A hardworking person. A patient employer. A man who lived life by humble means. He never places himself in a complex situation. He has all the characteristics of an average man.

Like all other fathers, he used to drop his kid at school.

“Please let me down, father. I am a grownup girl now. People will make fun of me, if they see me like this.” Rita pleaded.

Her words fell on Maran’s deaf ears. He lowered Riya when they reached school. Riya ran to her class in a flash.

Maran returned home and had breakfast. He was leaving to his garment shop that he was running in Madurai.

He kissed his wife Vanitha on her forehead before leaving. This was their daily ritual. Still, Vanitha was overjoyed and eagerly anticipated this moment each day.

She stood by the door, watching him leave their house.

That fateful incident happened when Maran was crossing the road. A car hit him and did not even stop. People crowded around Maran to see what happened to him.

Vanitha came rushing to her husband lying on the street. He was immediately admitted in the hospital where he was admitted in ICU. He was in coma as he suffered a big injury to his head.

There were no signs of improvement even after three days of medical treatment. The doctor recommended that Maran be taken to the famous neurosurgeon doctor Sathyan in Chennai.

Vanitha travelled to Chennai with the emotionless Maran. But she had the slightest hint of hope that he would recover.

——-******——-

“Temperature has not reduced for our kid.”

Swapna informed her husband, standing by the door to Jeevan’s room.

Jeevan was irritated that she interrupted her while he was writing. He would always be lost in his own world when he was writing, regardless of his environment.

Jeevan was a writer. You would very well know the characteristics of a writer. He prefers loneliness. He always lives high on emotions. He travels to many different worlds in his human life. Sometimes, he would be too engrossed in his work that he would forget his own kid’s birth day.

“Did you give her medicines?” Jeevan asked.

“Yes.”

“I am sure no doctor will be available at this late hour. Let’s wait till tomorrow morning.”

Swapna left the room with no expression.

Jeevan couldn't focus on writing again. He went to his daughter Diya’s room. She was in a deep sleep. He touched her forehead. The heat was scorching his fingers.

He went to his bedroom. Swapna turned her back to him. Jeevan adjusted his pillow and laid down. Thoughts about his story’s continuity and his unwell kid were simultaneously rushing to his mind. He was pretty sure that he was not going to sleep that night.

——-****———

Sathyan apologized to Nithyan as he kept him waiting for some time in his room. Nithyan was a psychologist at the same hospital that Sathyan worked. They used to indulge in conversations about philosophy, politics, history, etc, whenever they were free.

“I was attending to a patient called Maran, who was in a critical state in coma. He suffered heavy brain damage as he was in an accident. That is the reason for my delay. Now, tell me, what brings you here?” asked Sathyan.

“I came here to know the status of your project of artificial brain transplant” said Nithyan.

“It has been completed successfully. I am thinking of testing this on the patient Maran that I mentioned earlier.”

“Excellent! How did you make it possible?”

“The project involves scanning a person’s brain and making a copy. Every neuron connection is recorded accurately. We then make a digital copy of the brain connections and load it on to a chip. We place this chip in a brain shaped prosthetic. By performing a surgery, we place this prosthetic brain on a patient.”

“My best wishes for your project to succeed! But, first answer this. This artificial brain is a software copy. Will this be similar to the brain functioning of the original person from whom the copy was taken?”

“Definitely! The person with artificial brain and the original person will behave the same under the same situations.”

“You are saying that people with the same brain will think the same way. Does that mean that thoughts originate from brain?”

“Yes. Even a child knows this fact. There is no room for doubt in that.”

“I believe that thoughts do not originate from brain. Thoughts stay alive even after our death. Thoughts use our brain as an instrument. After our death, thoughts choose a different human form. This is the logic behind man having many births, which is explained in Hindu mythology.”

“These are not scientific explanations. I find it hilarious that you being a doctor believe such stories.”

“Do you know that in order to resurrect dead patients with heart disease, we use angiotherapy. The patient’s chest is pressed hard with the help of instruments. Interestingly, people who were thought to be dead have come back alive, following angiotherapy. They have been dead for a few moments. After which they have been brought back to life. So, in the brief time during which they were dead, they should be devoid of any thoughts, right? But, they were able to clearly tell the happenings around the time when they were dead. How would you explain this?”

“Why do we have to argue, unnecessarily? Let’s make a deal. We will have to wait to observe the behavior of the patient to whom I am going to do the artificial brain transplant surgery. If my patient and the original person behaves the same way and have the same characteristics, then I win. Otherwise, I will accept my defeat.”

At that time, the door opened and Jeevan rushed inside.

“My daughter is suffering from brain fever. I had admitted her yesterday. Today I have been informed that her treatment costs two lakh rupees. I don't have that much money. I will somehow pay the amount in two months. Please instruct your stuff to continue their treatment to her.”

Sathyan looked at Jeevan intently.

“What are you doing?” asked Sathyan.

“I am a writer.”

Sathyan was quiet for a while.

“I will make sure that you do not spend a penny for your daughter’s treatment, provided you accept to a small experiment to be conducted on you. I hope you will co-operate. All we need to do, is scan your brain. This can be done in less than half an hour.”

Jeevan agreed immediately.

As soon Jeevan left the room feeling relieved, Sathyan smiled at Nithyan.

“The competition begins now!”

It had been one month since Maran had undergone brain surgery. Though he had recovered fast, Vanitha was worried seeing him read books all the time or write something. Maran had reduced drastically the time that he spent with her and their child. She missed her husband who was always smiling and made other people smile. She felt like she was living with a stranger under her roof.

“Dad, it is getting late for school. Come, let’s go!” said Riya.

Maran left their house with Riya. Riya as usual gave her school bag to Maran, but he instead made her carry on her little shoulders.

“Dad, you used to carry my bags daily saying that it will be too heavy for me. Now, why are you not carrying them?”

“You have grown up now, Riya. You should do your own work.”

Riya walked a few meters and stopped midway.

“My legs are aching dad.”

“Your school is just a few meters away. Come on, let’s go.”

Riya shot a questioning look at her dad, while continuing to walk.

Maran dropped her off at school and returned home. He had his breakfast and prepared to leave the house.

Vanitha said “You have taken ample rest. Can you please go to our shop, at least today? This past one month has been very stressful for me, managing both the shop and our house.”

Maran replied “No, Vanitha. You go to our shop. I have other plans.”

Vanitha hurried to the door, on seeing him leave, in anticipation of something. But, Maran did not bother about her as he slipped on his shoes.

“I will be leaving to another place today. I will be back in another two weeks.” He said.

“May I know what is the purpose of this travel?”

“I have been asked to write a story in exchange for 20 lakh rupees. I am going to stay alone at a hotel in Goa to write my story well.”

“What is this new habit of writing? I have never seen you as much as reading a book earlier. Why are you not bothered about our business anymore? Something is wrong with you. Let’s meet your doctor immediately” Vanitha burst out.

Maran did not utter a word and left the place.

Vanitha immediately rushed to see Doctor Sathyan at his hospital.

“Doctor, my husband is acting weird. I feel like I am with a stranger in my own house. Can you please bring him back to normal?” begged Vanitha.

“We have performed brain transplant surgery on him. He has now transformed into a new person. It is a miracle that he is even alive today. Only you must adjust to his new ways of living. By the way, what is he doing now?” Sathyan asked.

“He is always seen with a book in his hand. He is least bothered about business. I am surprised that he thinks he can write a book.”

“He will be alright soon. He will soon become someone famous. Do not worry about him.”

As Vanitha left the room, Sathyan’ s lips curled up in a smug smile.

——*****——-

Jeevan was seen excitedly having a conversation with Swapna, which was extremely rare.

“I am leaving to Goa tomorrow for the next two weeks. I got an opportunity to write a story. Do you know how much the agreement is for? 20 lakhs! They have given me 5 lakhs in advance. Do not reveal this news to anyone else. I should not be discussing about my story to anybody.”

“Diya has not completely recovered. But you are leaving us for 2 weeks. How will I manage her all alone?” sighed Swapna.

“This is the biggest opportunity of my life. I was struggling to get even 1000 rupees for my story. Now, they have promised to give me 20 lakhs. All our financial difficulties will melt away, if we have this money.”

Swapna left to the kitchen without another word seeing that Jeevan has made up his mind. Jeevan was engrossed in his next story.

——-******———

Jeevan stayed for a week in Royal Park hotel, one of the star hotels in Goa. His story was shaping brilliantly as he was all alone and devoid of any sought of interference. Every day, he would spend time at the beach, watching the sun rise over the horizon. This was a great source of his imagination. He also noticed another man watching the sunrise. He made up his mind to talk to him today.

“This is a secluded part of the beach where there is no crowd. We are blessed to be watching this gorgeous sun rise, aren't we?”

“I couldn't agree more! I feel like the sun is tasting freedom as it rises from the sea as a giant red ball. We are indeed blessed to watch this beautiful sun which lights up the sky in different hues, the birds that fly across the sky like flowers strewn around and the sound of waves that is so soothing like a lullaby to us!”

Jeevan was shocked to hear this answer because that would have been his exact same reply if someone asked him that question.

“May I know your name, sir? I am judging from your answer that you must either be a poet or a writer.”

“My name is Maran. I am not a writer. In fact, I am unable to do any business for long. Currently, I am roaming the world as a nomad.” replied Maran.

Jeevan suspected that Maran was not revealing the truth.

“My name is Jeevan. I am an IT professional.”

“Even I thought that you would be a writer.” said Maran.

Jeevan was taken aback.

Maran continued “If you are spending so much time at the beach at such an early hour, then you have to be a writer, isn't it?”

Jeevan did not like the way the conversation was heading. He took leave of Maran and returned to his room. He was surprised to see that Maran was also entering his hotel. He wondered why he had not seen Maran even once before.

Jeevan did not feel good about staying in the same hotel as Maran any longer. The book publication company had asked him not to reveal his story to anyone. Jeevan feared that he would reveal his secret to Maran. He was surprised to hear Maran speak the same thing he thought.

Jeevan checked in to another hotel few streets away. He did not see Maran after that. He finished his story in two days and returned to Chennai. By now, he had forgotten about Maran completely.

The publication company loved his story. He got a cheque for 20 lakhs as promised.

For the first time in his life, he bought clothes and gifts for his wife Swapna and daughter Diya. They were ecstatic with Jeevan’s success.

——-****——-

The next day Jeevan received the shock of his life through a phone call. The editor of the publication company wanted to see him immediately.

As Jeevan met the editor at his office, he could see that the editor was infuriated.

“What story have you written? We have received another story with the exact same words. You were writing half decent stories earlier. But now, you have stooped to stealing other’s stories.”

“I don’t understand your allegation. This is my original story.”

“Did you discuss this story with anyone else?”

“No. I was all alone when I wrote this story in Goa. I did not speak to anyone. Wait, who sent you the other story?”

“It’s a new writer called Maran.”

“Now, I know the reason for this confusion. I will meet you again and explain everything. Please give me the address of Maran.”

“His home town is Madurai. He is now staying in a hotel in Saidapet.”

Jeevan went to the hotel where Maran was staying. Vanitha opened the door when he knocked on Maran’s room as he was in the bathroom. Maran was shocked to see Jeevan in his room when he came out of his bathroom.

“Jeevan, why did you come here? How did you know where to find me?” Maran asked.

“Do not act as though you are innocent! Tell me the truth, that you are a writer!” snarled Jeevan.

Maran remained silent.

“I suspected that you were a writer when I met you in Goa. Why did you steal my story?”

“When did I steal your story? Think about this the other way round. Maybe you had stolen my story and now acting like an innocent man.”

“I have written hundreds of stories earlier. How many stories have you written? How can you write such a brilliant story in your first attempt?”

“You may have written many stories. And it might be true that I had written none. But you cannot judge a person’s creativity with how many stories they have written. I assure you that I had written the story myself.”

“There is no use talking to you. I have decided to take you to court.”

Jeevan stomped away from Maran’s room. Vanitha, who was watching the events unfold, left to meet Doctor Sathyan.

 “What did you do to my husband? When you performed brain transplant surgery, did you fit in the brain from a dead person?”

“I cannot answer all these questions. Your husband is fine now. Then why are you concerned about all this?”

“You know that you need government’s approval for performing brain transplant surgery as there few ethical problems with this, similar to cloning.”

“What do you want, Vanitha?”

“I want to know the donor of the brain. If not, then I will report this to the government.”

“It belongs to a writer called Jeevan. He is alive. We have taken a copy of his brain and fitted that to your husband.”

Vanitha saw Maran at the door. He must have followed her to doctor’s office.

“The true writer of your story is Jeevan because you are not Maran. You have the body of Maran. But all your thoughts are those of Jeevan.”

“What are you saying Vanitha?”

“The brain that was transplanted to you was a copy of Jeevan’s.”

Maran froze with shock on hearing this.

——-****———

The next day, Jeevan met the editor at his office.

“Maran had called me yesterday. He confessed that he stole your story. He returned the 20 lakh rupees that we had given him, to give it to you. We learnt a lesson dealing with a newbie writer. Please accept our apologies as we suspected you of stealing someone else’s story.”

“Where is Maran now?”

“He left for Madurai last night.”

“I have to meet him immediately. Please give me his Madurai address.”

Jeevan rode all the way to Madurai only to find Maran’s house locked.

He enquired Maran’s neighbors to find that he had shifted to some other city. He even visited Maran’s garment store to see Maran’s brother as its manager.

——-****——

Nithyan had come to meet Sathyan at his office.

“You had called me to convey an important matter. What is it?”

“I won in our competition!”

“What competition?”

“Remember the discussion that we had to confirm whether thoughts originated from brain or from somewhere else? Now, I can say with confidence that thoughts originate from brain. My patient Maran has the same characteristics of Jeevan. He has also written a story just like him. Both of their stories are the exact same. Not even one word is different. Here, you can read both their stories.”

“I suspect you had a role to play in this?”

“Yes! Of course! I made the editor to give them both an opportunity to write stories. I also gave them 20 lakhs each.”

“So, this is also one of your experiments?”

“Yes! Now, it is time for you to accept your defeat and give me 40 lakhs.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes! Of course, I am!”

“I will meet you with the cheque tomorrow. Take this 20 rupees as advance, as this is the only money that I have right now.”

Nithyan left Sathyan’s room with both the stories.

The next day Nithyan couldn't contain his excitement when he met Sathyan.

“Sathyan, you lost! You told that the stories are the exact same. Please read the last five pages. Both have a different ending. As the first 250 pages were same, no one read the last five pages, including you and the editor.”

Sathyan grabbed the books and read the last few pages.

“You are right! The endings are different!”

“Do you understand now? If both these men had the same thoughts, then how come the ending of their stories is different? Will you now accept that our thoughts are being directed by something apart from our brain? Do you think our philosophies that suggest strongly that our thoughts never die, even after our death, say so without a solid reasoning?”

“We cannot arrive at a conclusion so simply. There can be glitches in the software that made a copy of Maran’s brain.”

“Sathyan, do not find lame excuses to deny your defeat. Accept that you have lost in this competition. I will not ask for 40 lakhs. Just, return the 20 rupees back to me.”

“Wait! If we want their brains to function in the same way, then they must be in the same situation. When they started writing their story, they were in the same hotel. But, they were in a different hotel for the last two days. Hence, that might have affected their imagination and in turn, the outcome of their story.”

“Your explanation is unacceptable. Please give me back my 20 rupees.”

Nithyan snatched the note from Sathyan’s and left the room. Sathyan was lost deep in thought.

——***——-

Vanitha was very happy these days. It has been 2 months since they moved to Coimbatore. She noticed many positive changes in Maran. He had been successful in starting a new garment business in a new place. He was very much interested in growing his business.

As usual, he was leaving with Riya to school that day. Vanitha hurried to their porch. It felt good when Maran kissed Vanitha on her forehead after what seemed like ages.

Riya became exhausted walking a few meters and stopped.

“Riya, are your legs aching?” asked Maran.

“No, dad. I will walk to school for the remaining distance, as I have grown up.”

That night, Maran was wide awake in his bed. His mind was overflowing with thoughts of new stories. He successfully kept his itch to start writing under check. But he couldn't control it anymore.

He took out a pen and started writing frantically. He lost track of time as he kept writing through the night. Suddenly, he heard Riya babbling something in her sleep.

“Dad, please carry me to school. I am not a big girl. My legs are aching. Please carry me.”

Maran looked at Riya for a few minutes. With a long sigh, he tore all the papers that he had written.

He laid down next to Riya and said to himself.

“I am not him.”

——-****——-