ELSA MEET : SCIENCE FICTION

                                                            ELSA MEET 

                                                      SCIENCE FICTION

                                                             

Science Fiction is a genre that is hugely popular and entertaining. But can it be considered to be true literature? Does science fiction, being high on the imagination and masterly storytelling include the best of characterization and other literary elements? These were the questions that came up for in-depth discussion in latest ESLA meet. The discussion was initiated by Saurabh Agarwal, who gave a historical background of science fiction as a genre. He talked about the influence of Edgar Allan Poe on several writers. Contribution of H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, Arthur C. Clarke and others was mentioned by him. He also highlighted the issues of importance that have been taken up by the various authors. Dr. Shipra Kulshreshta took up Douglass Adam's work Hitchhiker's Guide to Galaxy. The work is an important piece of contemporary science fiction which talks of intergalactic adventures. Dr. Chanda Singh made important observations about the issues raised on morality by H.G. Wells in his work The Invisible Man. She also highlighted that this work proves that science may have power but it also has its own limitations. Dr. Sanjay Mishra made a comparative study of George Orwell's 1984 with Huxley's Brave New World. He also read and discussed Issac Asimov's  story “The Fun they Had.” Sarthak Malhotra, a Ph.D. scholar from Cambridge University, U.K. posed some important questions on what basis do we demarcate a genre and what impact does such a demarcation can have on a reader in general. Prof. Nibir Ghosh highlighted the importance of Time and Space concept in relation to science fiction and spoke about the contribution of Octavia Butler as a science fiction writer. Shri Nihal Singh Jain read his own short story "A Satellite Over My Home" to the delight of all.

Participation of scholars from outside Agra enriched the Meet and brought to the fore topics as diverse as The Eye That Witnessed Eternity: Roald Dahl and Sci-Fi” by Dr. Seema Sinha, BITS Pilani, Technology in George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four by Dr. Navleen Multani, Rajiv Gandhi National University of Law, Punjab, Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 by Dr. Tanya Mander, Rajiv Gandhi National University of Law, Punjab, George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty Four: A World where Science Slaughters Humanity by Dr Manju, UILAH, Chandigarh University, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelly’s Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus (1818) by Dr. Ritu Bali, Muscat, Oman, and Frankenstien – A Depiction of the Power of Eloquent Communication by Nencepreet Kaur,  UILAH, Chandigarh University.

                        Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451

                                                          Tanya Mander

The idea for Fahrenheit 451 was developed during the 1940s’ America when the country witnessed its worst paranoia because of Communism. Bradbury’s chief concern against conformity and censorship found its inspiration in the immediate environment. He created characters and situations to etch indelibly the irrationality of power that cleverly manipulated the masses against free-thinking and individual identity. Montag, is a fireman tasked with starting fires and burning books. The Government has effaced freedom and has manipulated people through ideological conditioning into believing that books are essentially counterproductive and are the chief cause of unhappiness. Captain Beatty explains to Montag, “Not everyone is born free and equal, as the constitution says, but everyone is made equal. Each man is the image of every other, then all is happy, for there are no mountains to make them cower, to judge themselves against.”

Bradbury offers a precarious unsettled vision of the future where pleasure, delight and glee are the desideratum and merriment through entertainment are the means to the end. Books are a reflection of malfeasance and have been outlawed; uninterrupted sounds from TV walls and radios are the superficial means of communication; reflective original deliberations, debates and discussions are crimes. At his satirical best, Bradbury etches Montag’s life completely devoid of any personal happiness but furnished with state of the art technology. The narrative is rooted in plausibility: surveillance, nuclear energy, weapons of mass destruction, numbing mechanization, are all brought together to reveal the potential they have to wreck havoc. It’s a consumerist culture of America that is showcased, essentially to highlight disconnect, from the political consciousness. It’s a dark, sad and lonely world where characters take mood-elevating pills.

Bradbury offers a futuristic but an ascertainable world: we have witnessed books (to name a few) like To Kill a Mockingbird; The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn; Harry Potter being removed from either the curricula or the libraries for they made students feel uncomfortable, ‘humiliated or marginalized’. John Milton’s Aeropagitica was one of the first books to be banned in the Kingdom of England, as it builds the argument for the right to freedom of speech and expression. But we also encounter the counter narrative written by the likes of American Library Association that organizes Banned Books Week as an annual event ‘celebrating the freedom to read’. Bradbury frames the power of literature to reconfigure the world and Montag symbolizes intellectual shift.

Dr. Tanya Mander, Rajiv Gandhi National University of Law, Punjab.

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus

Ritu Bali

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, the writer of the novel Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus (1818) was well known as the second wife of nineteenth century romantic  poet , Perry Bysshe Shelly. Mary Shelly was known mainly for publishing her husband’s works and helping him get inspired for more. Frankenstein remains an eminent peace of art, widely acknowledged, triggering many film adaptions, making her find a niche in the field of literature as a noted writer. She was influenced by her political philosopher father William Godwin, the reflections of which could be felt in her biographical articles for Dionysius Lardner’s Cabinet Cyclopaedia (1829 - 1846).

Frankenstein was encouraged as an output in Geneva while spending the summers with the poet Lord Byron along with husband P.B. Shelley. They proposed to write a ghost story to which Mary though of “re-animating” a corpse. Percy was kind of editor and collaborator to Mary’s work as technical corrections were concerned. The thematic narrative of Frankenstein got published in 1818. The writing of this novel had been fictionalised a number of times in a couple of films.

Frankenstein fulfils the requirement of the creation of new life or the revival of the old life from the previously ‘dead’ as in a science fiction. It does not resort to divine means or magic intervention but uses a ‘doctor’ to accomplish the animation of his golem. The invention of the electric bulb in 1802 might have been a very great discovery in those times, thereby igniting and inspiring the scientific stories technically speaking than relating religion or ethics. The major character Frankenstein is portrayed as a scientist who uses chemicals to incarnate dead flesh and bones into a monster.

The overall impact of a new wave to look upon fiction as science fiction started with Frankenstein and was much acclaimed as a impactful influential horror novel of that decade, immeasurably appreciable even now and for the times to come.

Dr. Ritu Bali is an artist and poet based in Muscat, Oman

Technology in George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four

Navleen Multani

Science Fiction is an influential genre. It presents the ethical, philosophical and political dilemmas of the times. The narratives in this genre raise social and political consciousness. The plots in science fiction coincide with the realities of the world. While the pre-War Science fictional works concentrate on technical wonders, the post World War II narratives examine consequences of the scientific advancements and apprehension that man might become a victim of his own creations. The plot in science fiction of 1950s centres on the dystopian future.

George Orwell's harrowing experiences of war, active engagement in political movements against totalitarianism, understanding of imperialism and aesthetic enthusiasm orient him to produce work of art that exposes lies and injustice. His disillusionment with the political processes and authoritarian nature of state make him envision a grim future. Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four (1948) is about a totalitarian technological state, Oceania. Ingsoc, the ruling party, believes in the 'sacred principles' of 'Newspeak,' 'doublethink' and the mutability of the past. 'War is Peace', 'Freedom is Slavery' and 'Ignorance is Strength' are the three slogans of the party. Oceania constitutes living corpses' (in the words of Hannah Arendt) and 'soulless automatons' (in the words of Eric Fromm). Ingsoc uses technology to enslave men. It employs the scientific advancements — rockets, bombs, grenades, teleporters, speakwrites, novel writing machines, Floating Fortress, versificators, hidden microphones, dictaphones, helicopter patrols, instruments of interrogation, memory holes and artificial insemination for surveillance and control. It uses sophisticated technology for all-pervasive espionage, primarily to keep a check on 'thought crime'. Thought Police, Two Minute Hate Drills, Anti-Sex league, Room 101, Newspeak and Big Brother (omnipresent ruler) beat people into submission. The technological paraphernalia aggrandizes the power of the state and thwarts liberty of an individual. The constantly watching 'Big Brother' and psychological manipulations disorient the intellect of an individual in Oceania. Technological totalitarianism destroys individuality and free thought.

Winston Smith, who works with the Ministry of Truth, is a prototype of man remade and mechanized by technological and political forces in Oceania. He uses speakwrite to produce writing that suits Big Brother (the despot). Smith also symbolizes the spirit of rebellion. He seeks truth, sanity and repressed selfhood. He grapples to maintain his memory, gain selfhood, privacy, love, knowledge of past and consciousness. His work at the Ministry of Truth to alter records intensifies this struggle. He portrays the resilience of an individual. Smith reasserts and demands freedom from the organised technological suppression/torture. He rebels against the technological control of Oceania but ends up as a mindless puppet who along with the masses loves Big Brother and agrees that Two plus Two is Five. He recognizes the worth of Proles and hopes that they can bring changes and a better future.

Nineteen Eighty-Four does not present "art-as-culture" but "art-as-function". Orwell like Marcel Proust fears that the habit of conforming to the force benumbs sensations and erases the perception of the world. Technological totalitarianism alienates senses, controls human behaviour and leads to linguistic degradation. Newspeak, for Orwell, marks the death of language. This death depersonalizes communication and engenders an environment of repression. Since Orwell perceives the death of language as death of man, culture and society, he forewarns the readers about terrorizing effects of "thinking technologically." Technological advancement poses a threat to privacy. Hence, Nineteen Eighty-Four not only raises Orwell's concern for freedom of thought but also voices his passion for freedom, justice and truth.

Dr. Navleen Multani is Assistant Professor of English at Rajiv Gandhi National University of Law, Punjab (India). She specializes in theories of resistance, Indian writings, Diasporic writings and environmental studies.

George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty Four:

A World Where Science Slaughters Humanity

Manju

Science and literature are often considered antonyms to each other although both are the products of human imagination. As Science, which is considered based on facts actually, gets its life from an imaginative mind, so is science fiction. There are various authors who have created certain utopias by portraying scientific advancements in their literary world but again at the same time there are certain other writers who portray the same technological advancements causing threats to human life on the earth. Interestingly with the passing years they are found absolutely correct. George Orwell is also one of such names. He wrote his famous novel Nineteen Eighty Four and analyzed how science has become a threat to human life. It seems as science is not aware of its limits when and where to stop while on the other hand, nature, the creator of man knows its limits as there is always a measure in all natural things in their size, speed and violence. This may be the reason why nature and science are always in combat. In Nineteen Eighty Four  human beings are living under strict surveillance. Each human activity is minutely scrutinized. They live with the terror of perpetual war. Human life has become mechanical and this world has been reduced merely into just a market place where the game of power and money is played among the big guns of the society and innocence and love are being slaughtered at the altar of technological advancements. O’Brian explains to Winston in the book, "We control life, Winston, at all its level. You are imagining that there is something called human nature which will be outraged by what we do and will turn against. But we create human nature. Men are infinitely malleable. Or perhaps you have returned to your old idea that the proletarians or the slaves will arise and overthrow us. Put it out of your mind. They are helpless like the animals. Humanity is the party. 

Dr. Manju is Associate Professor of English at UILAH, Chandigarh University.

The Eye That Witnessed Eternity

Roald Dahl and Sci-Fi

Seema Sinha

Roald Dahl is primarily known as the ‘Shakespeare of Children’s Literature’ (The Independent, 2012), but a huge gamut of his work has been devoted to futuristic writing for adults, one of which is his macabre short story titled “William and Mary” (Dahl, 1960). Part medical drama, part science fiction and part psycho-horror, this work outlines the classical medical condition called the ‘Locked-in syndrome’, where the body wastes away but the brain is lucid. Taking it one step further, Roald Dahl describes in unnerving detail the conversation between William, a Professor in Oxford and his colleague Landy, a neurosurgeon and a scientist who wanted William to donate his body for medical science research. The operation entailed carving out the dead man’s brain and keeping it alive by connecting it to a heart-lung machine. The brain will be bathed and fed through osmosis by cerebrospinal fluid, remembering, thinking and reciprocating through electro-chemical discharges measured on an encephalograph. It will also be supplied with an eye which can see and subsequently communicate. Ensconced in a petri-dish in ideal lab conditions, this brain would be immortal.

After some deliberation William agreed to the experiment, and ultimately the day came when his recently bereaved widow was given a letter inviting her to come and visit her husband’s brain. Mary was kept in the dark about these developments and was suitably horrified by the sight. Now came the twist in the tale, the typical Dahl touch to the story. Mary, William’s widow, was no wall-flower, but she had always been kept in strict control by her puritan husband. Smoking, music, loud colours, television, and telephone were prohibited while he was alive, and in his will after he was dead. Mary, though she missed her husband, was in a way relieved that she could be herself now but was stunned to see ‘the big brother’ watching her even after his death. Her long-oppressed mind played tricks with her. She objected to the brain being called ‘it’ and was at peace to see the cow like placid pupil which earlier used to squint in anger most of the times. At the same time, she planned revenge. She had been forced to acquiesce when he tortured her by never allowing her to be herself – now she would make him witness the transformation. The story ends with Mary shrouding William’s brain with a mouthful of smoke and assuring it a safe return home. More than 50 years before the medical world came to conceive of this experiment or condition, Dahl had given his protagonist an eye that witnessed eternity.

Reference

Dahl, Roald. The Collected Short Stories. New York: Knopf,1960. Volume1. (https://www.pdfdrive.com/roald-dahl-short- stories-d34763542.html)

Seema Sinha is a Ph.D. Scholar at BITS, Pilani.

  

          Frankenstien – A Depiction of the Power of Eloquent Communication

Nencepreet Kaur

Frankestein is characterized as one of the first science fiction written by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelly. She was in competition with her contemporaries to produce one of the most horrific works in fiction. This is an example of her imaginative masterpiece with an interesting psychological perspective from the inner recesses of the characters. Victor Von Frankenstein is a promising young doctor who, devastated by the death of his mother during childbirth, becomes obsessed with bringing the dead back to life. However Victor despite being brilliant doesn’t realize the repercussion of his creation. While he decides to create life to cheat death, it results in being an abomination. It is however a quest of the monster in Mary’s Frankestein. He is born and pushed into this life as a man yet with the urge to know like an infant. Mary’s monster acquires eloquence as he learns to read and write. Shelly’s monster is not uncommunicative, rather Mary depicts how language transforms the mysterious monstrosity, which is nightmarish, into a tragic figure, with whom one can sympathize. The monster’s point of view is brought forth with poignantly when he explains how his creator’s desertion left him desolate, alone and utterly frightened. With his speech we are more understanding towards the monster and our compassion and empathy lies with him. Our sentiments are rooted for him when we see how he helps the cottagers. His tale of rescuing a young girl while getting a bullet for the same describes his helpful instincts and concern for those who are weaker than himself. By the power of communication, the monster gains the favour of the audience and is easily turned as the hero of this narrative. We can see how Ms Wollstonecraft demonstrates the pivotal role played by language in bringing forth the identities of individuals and a near reversal of people’s perception by the same.

Nencepreet Kaur is Assistant Professor of English at UILAH, Chandigarh University.

                                         Remembering Octavia Butler

                                                                          Nibir K. Ghosh

                                                                    

A black shy spinster - whose father, a shoeshine man died when she was just a little child and whose mother worked as a maid to support the two of them - rises by dint of pioneering initiative, firm determination and hard work to become one of the most widely acclaimed contemporary American writers in the white-male-dominated genre of Science Fiction. Enduring years of hardship and poverty, she experiences the joy of landing up with the prestigious MacArthur Foundation grant that brings her a hard-earned $295,000 windfall in 1995 along with international recognition. And, just a fortnight ago, on the ill-fated Friday, while strolling outside her Lake Forest Park home in Bill Gates’ city, Seattle, she falls and dies. It isn’t a page out of some bizarre thriller. It’s the story of Octavia Estelle Butler (1947-2006) who overcame the twin obstacles of being a woman and black to carve an enviable niche for herself in eternity’s hall of fame with monumental Science Fiction novels like Patternmaster, Mind of My Mind, Survivor, Kindred, Wild Seed, Clay’s Ark, Dawn, Adulthood Rites, Imago, Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents.

Perhaps, Dante was right when he said, “There is no greater sorrow than to recall, in misery, the times when we were happy.” My heart missed a beat when an email from my friend Ethelbert Miller brought home the tragic truth of Octavia Butler’s untimely demise. I was in fact waiting to see her response to my book Multicultural America: Conversations With Contemporary Authors (which had been recently dispatched to her by the publisher in Chandigarh) wherein Octavia Butler features among the authors I had interviewed in the US during the course of my Senior Fulbright Fellowship at the University of Washington, Seattle a little more than a year ago. I do not really know whether she got to see her impressive profile on the cover of the book before the cruel hands of fate snatched her away. In the science-fiction world, death doesn't necessarily mean The End. Resurrections, and all kinds of other scenarios conspire to keep hope -- and characters – alive. But in real life facts are often stranger than fiction.

At the University of Washington, when I expressed my desire to interview Octavia Butler, I was told that Octavia Butler shuns publicity and prefers to remain undisturbed by interviewers. I refused to be discouraged. I located her telephone number in the directory, held my breath, dialled the ten magic digits and asked, “May I speak to Octavia Butler?” A metallic voice affectionately confirmed that I was talking to the celebrity herself. I introduced myself as a visitor from the city of the Taj Mahal and sought her permission to interview her. She didn’t take a second to say “yes.”

The interview turned out to be a memorable experience because it brought to the forefront her many-sided genius not only as a writer but also as a wonderful human being. Octavia Butler talked a good deal about her mother’s sacrifices in allowing her the freedom to choose a world of her own making. She recalled how her mother bought her a typewriter of her own when she was ten years old and how she had agreed to pay a large fee to an unscrupulous agent so Butler's stories could be read. Butler’s interest in science fiction began after she saw a bad movie called Devil Girl From Mars. Confident of being able to write a better story, she set out on her journey and never looked back. When I asked her how she responded to people calling her a recluse, she smiled and remarked, “I am comfortably asocial—a hermit living in a large city—a pessimist if I’m not careful; a student, endlessly curious; a feminist; an African American; a former Baptist; and an oil and water combination of ambition, laziness, insecurity, certainty, and drive.”

Octavia Butler had attracted the attention of readers and critics with her very first novel, Kindred (1979) that featured a black woman who travels back in time to the South to save a white man. In addition to the MacArthur Foundation fellowship, Butler’s creativity brought her the PEN Center West Lifetime Achievement Award, two Nebula awards and two Hugo Awards. Butler gave enormous respectability to the science fiction genre. Unlike many writers in the field who remained preoccupied with robots and ray guns, Butler used the genre's artistic freedom to explore race, poverty, politics, religion and human nature. Writing, for Butler, always remained a passion. In her own words: “Writing is one of the few professions in which you can psychoanalyse yourself, get rid of hostilities and frustrations in public, and get paid for it.” Endowed with courage, persistence and positive passion, Butler succeeded in stripping away the myths to shed light on real problems faced by human race and society.  What she really conveyed in her writing was the deep pain she felt about the injustices around her. All of it was a metaphor for war, poverty, power struggles and discrimination. But she overcame the pain and agony of it all with the gift of words that enabled her to start healing fountains in the deserts of the human heart. She frankly stated “My characters hope for better lives. They struggle to do things they believe will make their lives better, make our species more likely to survive its own mistakes.” And, as I vacantly gaze at the photograph of Octavia Butler on the cover of my book and ponder over this last bit of interaction with a great American writer, I can see distinctly the radiant rainbow of her creative legacy illumining the darker regions of intolerance, greed, vengeance and other flaws of humankind to reveal a world that is better, happier, and intensely humane.

(Originally published as Obituary in New Indian Express following the sudden and untimely demise of Octavia Butler whom the author had the privilege of interviewing at Seattle, USA during his Senior Fulbright tenure at the University of Washington, Seattle.)

 

        

A Satellite over My Home

                                                         Nihal Singh Jain 

I woke up in the middle of a dark night and was terrified to see three powerful bright beams of purple light in my backyard. The whole area was brightly illuminated in a purple hue and there was a strange hissing sound coming from the sky. I was frightened and started to sweat profusely. We usually sleep in a bedroom in the rear of the house. The windows open in the backyard and there is a screen door as well to let one go out to enjoy the sight of a blue sky with stars, weather permitting. With great difficulty, I collected myself and went out in the backyard to find out about the source of the strange light and sound.  My mouth went dry and I was shaking in fear of something untoward happening.

As soon as I stepped out, I heard a muffled voice in American accent calling me by my name. “Mr. Singh, don’t be afraid! Look up.”

I saw a big oval shape object with an antenna like object protruding from one side, hanging over my home and noticed that the three beams of purple light were coming down from its centre.  Perhaps the strange hissing sound was also emanating from the same object. I was terrified like hell and with great courage but in stumbling voice I asked “Who are you and why are you on top of my home?”  It was a while before came the reply in the same muffled American accent.

“Look this is a satellite of SpaceX Corporation and we have lost our moorings.  This is a geostationary satellite and we have unfortunately comedown much below our usual flying altitude of some 35000 Kms.  That’s why we are able to see you through our periscope and you are able to see this satellite.  We are having navigational problems as our radar is not working properly.  We saw G S T markings on your iphone and we were relieved to find the Geo Stationary Tracker finally.”  By this time I had regained my voice.  I said “Look I don’t know you but Sir you are mistaken.  The GST on my iphone stands for a new tax Modi Government has recently imposed and stands for Goods and Service Tax.  I had saved an article on GST and you saw the heading.”  Back came the reply “Let me introduce all the crew members abroad this satellite.  We are four astronauts from four countries.  I Harry Woodman from Minnesota, USA and I am the captain.  My navigator is Boris Ivanovo from Leningrad, Russia and the engineer is Chung Lee from Xiang province of China.  The fourth one is a tourist and his name is Ketan Shah and according to him, he is from Gujarat but he didn’t mention his nationality.”  There was a silence for few minutes and then a howling voice came.  “Listen! Mr. Singh, we have no time to waste.  We can’t move from here as our instruments are not working properly and I am a seasoned navigator and the China man couldn’t fix them.  So move fast and call India’s space agency to help us.”

I told “Boris I don’t have ISRO contact numbers and my phones battery was very low last evening.”  At this Chung Lee’s singing voice came “I have charged your apple phone with our purple ray technology and your phone will continue to have power for the next 5 years and its capacity has been enhanced to 128 GB. So don’t worry and search on Google and call ISRO about us.”  I went inside the bedroom and picked my iphone.  It was shining in purple light and looked differently.  I yelled “Alright, I will try to contact ISRO in Ahmadabad or wherever they are.  In the meantime, please ask Mr. Ketan Shah for any mobile numbers of his friends or relatives in Ahmadabad.”  Back came the voice of the Captain “Mr. Singh we have full confidence in you.  This Gujju man is too terrified and he is chanting some kind of verses.  You go ahead and ask ISRO to help us as soon as possible.”

I searched Google for ISRO’s contact numbers and found a set of phone numbers and an email ID. I called the top listed number and back came a recorded reply. “This is ISRO.  Press one for technical help, press two for launch information, press three for supplies and press four for emergency”  I pressed four without letting the recorded message to be completed.  Back came a voice “Kem cho” I replied “Saru na chey.  Let me tell you there is a satellite hanging over my home in Agra.  The captain of the satellite informed me it was a SpaceX corporation’s satellite and something went wrong with their equipment and they need your help.  It is urgent.  Please do something”. The duty officer came on the phone “OK, we shall verify your location through your phone but I am surprised how you were able to communicate with the satellite.”  I said “I don’t know but I was able to hear their voices and they heard me as well.”  “OK we shall see what we can do. Roger”.  The phone got disconnected with a click sound.

I looked up and the satellite was very much hanging up there. However, the intensity of the purple beams of light was a little lower now.  I called “Hey Captain Harry! I have contacted ISRO in Ahmadabad, Gujarat which is about 900 kilometres away from Agra and I don’t know how long they would take to come to your rescue.  If you have any contact space code please let me know so that I shall send it to ISRO” At this the Gujju’s voice came over “No we don’t have any such code but you don’t worry, ISRO would know how to contact us.  However, tell me what the Sensex was yesterday”. I cursed the Gujju silently and told him “Look you are in a precarious situation and still worried about stock market.  Wait for the help.”

I yelled again “Captain! What else can I do now?  Let me go to the washroom and then I shall be able to attend to you.  In the meantime you can have a look at the Taj Mahal which is not far from my home.” Captain came over and said” No problems Mr. Singh, we are waiting for ISRO’s help. Even our food is running in short supply.”

 

I went inside and after finishing with the washroom business, I drank a glass of cold water and for a while thought to wake up my wife and tell her about the strange happenings.  But I restrained myself and took a plastic chair in the backyard and sat on it.  Within few minutes a spot light came over me as if they were tracking me.  In my heart I was cursing the GST, it being the sole reason of my ordeal this night. 

After about an hour of my calling ISRO, a call came on my iphone from ISRO.  One Mr. Murthy was calling “Mr. Singh, thank you for informing about the predicament of the SpaceX satellite. In the meantime we have contacted the monitoring team of SpaceX and NASA and we are in communication with the stranded satellite. Our rescue team will arrive in the next 90 minutes and land near your home.  Be ready to receive them. Roger.”

I confirmed this message to Captain Harry and he said “Much obliged for your keen interest in our problem and your help.  Yes we are in touch with ISRO through communication centre of SpaceX and hope for the best. Thanks for your suggestion about watching the Taj Mahal. We did watch it through our purple light and it appeared that the security personnel were running helter-skelter after our illumination of the Taj Mahal precincts.  May be you will read it in headlines in your Newspapers, tomorrow morning.  We also heard the roar of few jet fighters scrambling around the area. Please remain in contact.” Voice from satellite went dead.

I checked time in my iphone, it was quarter to 2.00 AM.  I was wondering when ISRO team would land.  I heard the noise of a helicopter hovering overhead and went out towards the wide road about 5 meters from my home. The copter made a perfect landing and some people came out of their homes.  Within 5 minutes of the landing of the copter two trucks full of policeman came and they made a security cordon around the copter and asked the people to go inside their homes. But I did not move and waived to the ISRO scientists now disembarking from the copter.  It was a Chinook helicopter and carried six persons and a load of various equipments. One of the ISRO officials asked me “Are you Mr. Singh?” I nodded and replied “Yes, are you Mr. Murthy.” He said “Yes I am Purushottam Murthy” and walked towards me and shook hands with me.  The police inspector looked at me with deference and asked his men to let us proceed.  Some policemen helped in unloading the equipments and followed us to my home. One of the passengers stayed back in the copter and the other five persons followed me and we all entered the house and came to the back yard.  Within few minutes the policemen brought the equipments in the back yard and the scientists started to mount their machines on tripods which they had brought with them.  These were telescope like instruments and one of the machines had a microphone type instrument attached with a cable and they also set up two small speakers.  Some policeman had surrounded my home to secure it from intruders.  By this time my wife woke up and was surprised to see so many strangers in the house.  I explained the situation to her and asked her if she could prepare some tea for the ISRO scientists.  She went towards the kitchen and I brought glasses of water for the strangers.  But they refused to drink water and told me that they have brought their own supplies but they would accept the tea.

Mr. Murthy introduced his colleagues as Dr. Asim Basu, the navigation expert, Sardar Balwant Singh Puri, the space communication expert, Mr. Srishant Chandi, the space engineer and Mr. Deepak Purukayastha, the space software engineer.  Mr. Murthy said he was mission controller.  I shook hands with the four experts and offered chairs to them.

Within 15 minutes they assembled and mounted all the instruments and started working.  In the meantime my wife brought hot tea in a kettle and cups.  They thanked her for the tea and asked her that if she liked she could stay and watch the proceedings.  She agreed.

Mr. Murthy asked me if he could borrow my iphone as this could be the first step to communicate with the satellite.  I offered him the purple hued iphone and watched.  He kept this besides him with its speaker on, and called “Mr. Harry! I am Murthy from ISRO and we welcome you. We have already communicated with you through SpaceX communication centre but now please tell me what went wrong.”   Back came the muffled voice “Thanks Mr. Murthy, I would let Boris explain to you the problem.”  The howling voice of Boris Ivanovo came “Sir, the navigation control handle has jammed and wouldn’t move either way.  We tried fixing it but no result.”  Murthy looked at Asim Basu and gave him the microphone. Basu addressed “Boris focus your onboard camera towards the control handle and send the image to our image radar through your periscope.” Boris said “Yeah” and he followed the instructions. Basu studied the image and called back “Try pushing down the handle and then pull it.  I think one of the bearing is misaligned and must be obstructing the control handle.”  Boris asked Engineer Chung Lee to do the needful.  Chung Lee cursed heavily in Mandarin as was usual with the Chinese and went about the business of mending the control handle as instructed by ISRO’s Basu.  After about 15 minutes, there came an exited yell from the satellite.  It was Boris who informed that the Control Handle was unstuck and moving freely. ISRO’s team was already watching this on their image radar and was apparently happy about this success. The ISRO scientists had by now finished their tea and the Parle-G biscuits which Mrs. Singh had served for all of us.  They thanked her and explained how their image radar was able to see the images from inside the satellite through the periscope of the satellite. To be frank, I was flabbergasted by the quick solution found by ISRO’s men. 

It was now the turn of Sardar Ji, I mean Balwant Singh Puri to instruct the Satellite’s navigator Mr. Boris Ivanovo.  Puri called Boris to check the on-board communication console and send its image down to ISRO’s image radar.  When the image came down Puri noticed a certain diode light blinking irregularly. He asked Boris to change that diode with a spare diode.  Chung Lee changed the diode in a jiffy and the diode light stabilized.  Next, Puri asked Boris to set his console to the frequency of ISRO’s communication console which was already mounted in my backyard.  Let me tell you, ISRO team also brought with them a portable electric generator as they knew about the irregular power supply in U.P.  The two communications now on a common frequency, they didn’t need my iphone and returned it to me with thanks.  Puri was now in control of the satellite’s communication control through ISRO’s console and went through a drill to check other functions.  He checked many other aspects and informed his team leader Mr. Murthy that the console can’t be repaired any further and doubted that the satellite could continue its journey any further.  He consulted with Srishant Chandi, the space engineer and Deepak Purukayastha, the software engineer. They all agreed that further flight of the satellite should be aborted and they should rather find ways and means to ensure a safe landing of the satellite.  Mr. Murthy called the captain Mr. Harry Woodman on the console.  “Listen Harry, we can’t help you to fly further as your communication system is no good now and can’t be fixed.  We strongly recommend aborting the flight and we promise we will find a safe place nearby for your safe landing.  Let me communicate with your parent organization SpaceX Corporation for their permission as the landing of your satellite would cause certain damage to local environment and this has to be compensated.”  Harry Woodman’s voice came after few minutes perhaps after consulting his navigator and engineer.  “Mr. Murthy, we have no choice but to accept your offer.  However,  our passenger Ketan is too terrified but we can’t help it.  Please go ahead and prepare for our landing.  We shall follow your instructions. Roger.”  There was complete silence and Mr. Murthy opened a special box which contained a Satellite Phone.  He took out the phone and called certain officials of ISRO and waited for their response.  In the meantime, he asked us about some great water body in the vicinity of Agra where they could plan to land the satellite. I told them about the Keetham Lake but this site was rejected due to the growth of “Jal-Kumbhi” grown all over the water surface.  Mrs. Singh suggested landing in the Yamuna river as it was flooded with rain waters of August.  This was 28^th August and Yamuna was over flowing due to release of water from Hathini Kund in Haryana.  Mr. Murthy was not sure and asked if I knew any local expert who could certify the depth of Yamuna at its deepest point near Agra.  A name came to my mind.   I picked my purple hued iphone and called the number of my journalist friend Mr. Dheeraj Khandelwal who was an ardent bhakta of Yamuna and organised a daily Aarti of the holy river.  It was now 4.00 AM and after a while Dheeraj took the call.  I explained the whole situation to him and he promised to come to my place within 20 minutes from his home in Belanganj.  By this time the local media had started assembling near my house but the police didn’t let them come inside.  Mr.Murthy had to talk to the SP Police to let Mr. Dheeraj come in. 

Mr. Dheeraj Khandelwal, who sported a small moustache and rode an electric scooter, came within the promised time.  He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a yellow T shirt and Fedora hat on his head.  I never saw him wearing a helmet, though.  Dheeraj had a large paper tube with him.  He took out a much used map from the tube which showed a detailed cartography map of Yamuna showing the water depths at various spots.  Dheeraj pointed a spot near the Agra Fort which had a water depth of 650 meters caused due to the massive dredging done during the reign of Mayawati for creating a corridor near the Fort for commercial use.  Mayawati lost the Chief Ministership of U.P. due to this infamous corridor.

Mr. Murthi again called his superiors in ISRO for getting permission from Government of India for landing the American private satellite.  Surprisingly, the permission came within 30 minutes.  All decks were clear and I, my wife and Dheeraj decided to say a prayer in our little home temple for the success of the mission.  When Mr. Murthy came to know about our plans, he along with his team mates joined us in our snmall puja room for the prayer.  Mr. Dheeraj chanted a soft prayer dedicated to Goddess Yamuna and we all folded our hands.  Mrs. Singh gave flowers from our small garden and we all put the flowers at the feet of the deity.

ISRO scientists now started instructing the crew of the satellite but the navigation was under the control of ISRO crew through their communication console.  Captain Harry manoeuvred the control handle of the satellite and started manipulating the handle as directed.  The SSP and DM of Agra were at the river front with enough force to clear off the waters from human and animal presence.  They arrested certain individuals who were at the river bank for defecating in the early hours of the morning. 

It took about an hour to position the satellite over the spot at Yamuna and then the satellite started descending.  We three along with some journalists were specially transported to the Yamuna spot to watch the descent of the satellite.  The ISRO scientists remained at my house with their equipment.  We saw the satellite landing with a great splash in the river and a big parachute opened to keep it afloat.  Some local swimmers in rubber dinghies were standing by to help the crew of the satellite after they opened the hatch and came out.  All four came out scratch free and were transported to back to my house to meet the ISRO crew for debriefing. 

By now my house was swarming with journalists and officials from Delhi and Lucknow apart from the District officials.  A local caterer from the House of Devi Ram was present to supply refreshments to the crews and the officials.  One emissary from the PMO took me aside and asked me to be ready to brief the PM him-self on the whole episode, at an appropriate time. 

It took about two more hours for the ISRO crew and Satellite Crew to leave my place and go to Hotel Jaypee Place.  Before leaving Captain Harry Woodman hugged me, my wife and Dheeraj for helping them.  Boris Ivanovo and Chung Lee shook hands with us and the Gujju Ketan Shah said Namstey to us and gave a Bitcoin to me as a gift.  Mr. Dheeraj took lots of photographs with his camera and some selfies with his phone camera.  The camera crews of media were also busy making videos and taking snaps of all of us.

By 4.00 PM international media took up the news and we were all over the national media and on BBC and CNN.  Even Russia Today showed clips of our house and the satellite.  The satellite was transported under strict security to New Delhi and was flown back to USA. 

After 6 weeks we got letters of commendation from SpaceX Corporation and ISRO.  Dheeraj and I are still waiting for an invite from the PMO.

End