Emon Roy felt elated. The easterly wind, which meandered merrily through his hair, was not the reason for his joyful mood. The reason was far more complicated. He stood near the railings of the balcony, elbows resting on the high parapet with his face cupped in his palms. Fingers of steam leapt from the coffee mug perched next to him on the wooden top.

His apartment on the twenty-ninth floor of Mont Blanc building was one of the most expensive real estate properties in Bandra, a suburb of Mumbai. A thin man of medium height, he appeared tall because of his long legs.

Debasis Sahu looked around the hot and stuffy prison cell, lit by a small bulb that hung from above. The only other source of light was the faint glow of the sun through the small window at the top; sealed with strong but rusted iron bars. Years of dust and cobwebs on the glass pane prevented brightness from permeating inside. He sat on the ground, with his back pressed flat against the dark and dirty stone wall. A couple of yellowish-grey lizards crawled on it. He did not react to their close presence. The unendurable acrid smell emanating from the nearby public lavatory had little effect on his olfactory cells.

He was oblivious to his surroundings. Not long ago, such insensate conditions would have made him cringe with fear and throw up in disgust; but today he was immune to everything around him.

No words can describe the misery, humiliation and suffering faced by the farmers of Vidarbha in western Maharashtra, India.

Shobha is the lone survivor of the Agose family. The agrarian crisis in Yavatmal district of Vidarbha, western Maharashtra snatched away her husband and her two grown up children. Today, Sobha has lost all senses. She sits outside her small house all through the day, staring at the horizon. Her kajal laced eyes are devoid of all emotions. Her gaze shifts frantically. Her face lights up in anticipation at the slightest sound.

Even after two years Shobha waits expectantly for her children to return, who committed suicide to save the family from debt and humiliation. Shobha is not even aware of her husband’s death. With a family photo in her hands she waits for her dear ones to return.

The year is 2050. More and more people line up as volunteers for chip implants in their brains. This is the beginning of humanoids. The council responsible for the volunteers is compromised. Unofficial brain implants become rampant. Scientist involved in the project cry foul. They are worried about the security of such chips. They fear that terrorists might use these semi-humans to spread terror; and use them for one last strike.

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