I spoke to Gopal till late in the night. I enjoyed these talks. His matured responses yet child like wonder, articulate retorts, intelligent and witty and yet so innocent, he is such a delight.
Like my husband once was. Nights, we spent arguing about finer nuances of a single sentence, can only be experienced in memories. Nowadays, even exchanging a single sentence is a big deal.
Not that I blame him. After all he is a big shot scientist with a bright future. And I have Gopal to amuse me. Most days that enough.
Yet some times I wish I could run away with Gopal and never come back. I think my husband would not even miss me. And then Gopal asks, Lali, what is emotion?
I find myself struggling to fit it in a definition. And the futility of my efforts reflects the pointlessness of my dreams. However, lifelike it seems, a robot is still a robot.
So I reply, “Emotion is what makes one alive”
And wait for my husband to come home.
Disclaimer: The original story is not mine. I once read a short story and it stayed inscribed in my mind. I wanted to capture the mood of the story in my words and thats what I have done here. Unfortunately, I do not remember the name of the story or the author.