Like my 2-year-old sister, the rain kept drizzling — softly, endlessly. I was upset, like a typical 1st-standard boy during Diwali time. No sun. No crackers.
“Meesaikkara Mama (Moustache Uncle)” — that’s what we called him. I still don’t know his real name. But I remember that big moustache, the stylish way he touched it before speaking, and his commanding presence that made people feel a little fear — but more respect.
He had come home that week when my parents had to travel. He saw me sitting alone near the veranda. He smiled, took my hand, and walked me to the roadside bazaar — and without a word, bought me four packets of “28-wala Redstone Bijili crackers.” ₹5 each.
Around 3 PM that afternoon — that joyful moment changed everything. I heard that familiar sound: ‘dum… damal… dumil.’ Those were magic — Uncle’s crackers.
But within an hour, the rains began again — and didn’t stop.
One day before Diwali, my grandmother gave me ₹10. I went alone to the same shop and bought two packets of the 28-wala crackers.
Driving back on my imaginary bike — mouth buzzing “drrrrrrrrr’” one hand holding the crackers as the rain started again.
That evening, I lit them, expecting the same magic. “Shhsszzz…” — the Bijili said nothing. No spark, no light — just a faint whisper lost in the drizzle. Uncle’s crackers — those were already gone. Beautiful explosions. Perfect sounds. But mine? The same shopkeeper who gave my uncle the good ones had sold me old, damp packets.
That Diwali, I felt cheated. Abandoned. Lonely in a way only a first-grader can feel.
But 30+ years later, I realized — while working with data and AI models — that I was overfit on a belief: Same source + Same path = Same output.
The shopkeeper didn’t cheat me. The conditions changed — the context shifted — and I was too young to notice.
Sometimes, we make the same mistake — be it in career or personal life.
We remember Uncle’s crackers. We remember that one success path. We expect to replicate it, forgetting that the weather and time are different now.
Maybe your crackers are failing too — not because you’re not trying hard enough, but because you’re still expecting the same conditions to exist.
I was nervous. Not for a client meeting or a production issue.
It was KG tension — my son’s first day at school.
We walked through the gates together. He paused near the entrance, whispered a small prayer instilled by my wife, and then stepped inside.
A few seconds later, I realized — I was standing outside. His smile was gone, tiny raindrops forming in his eyes.
For a moment, I wanted to run back inside — but I paused.
The pre-school teacher looked at me and signalled with a smile,
“Please carry on. We’ll take care.”
That moment — every parent has felt it once, and every child has lived it.
Life sometimes forces you to stand outside and watch from a distance. It’s not rejection. It’s transition.
Year 2025
That feeling? It’s back — in a different form.
I felt it again watching AI walk faster into our world — summarising reports in seconds, designing things we couldn’t imagine that quickly, making decisions we once thought only humans could.
That same quiet ache. Standing outside the gate.
But then I realized something: AI isn’t scary. It’s a ‘hyper-active’ student
A student collectively trained by all of us — reflecting what we feed it, predicting what comes next based only on what we’ve shown it.
From every book, every page, every post, every comment, every image.
It learns what’s next — but who’s teaching what’s right?
And that’s when it hit me: This time, I’m not just a parent dropping off. I’m a teacher who can still shape what happens inside.
AI is still learning from us — from everything digital. So the question is: what kind of teacher will we be?
And like any student, if we don’t want shallow thinking, we must seed deeper values —gratitude, empathy, ethics, responsibility.
Because if we miss teaching those values, AI will grow like untrained children — smart and fast, but emotionless. Addiction with glitters.
But if we teach right, AI could evolve like our best kids — smart, curious, kind, and conscious.
So here’s what I’m doing:
When I see something fake — I report it. When I see something real — I support it. When time, monthly or weekly — I share my lessons. not as an expert, but as a parent who knows: “what you seed is what grows.”
My son is a teenager now — he doesn’t need advice anymore. And AI doesn’t need more data.
🥎 I always pick the misfit (low-bounce) tennis balls at our local mall — the ones that don’t spring up like the standard ones.
When I saw them back in stock today, I immediately grabbed 5. Not for price — but for purpose.
Here’s why:
My son and I play cricket on our terrace. Normal tennis balls bounce too high, flying over the edge. We’ve already lost 4+ that way.
But the misfit ball? It works perfectly. It gives us quality time together — without mobiles, without pressure — just play.
This simple choice got me thinking about my Ei4AiBooks journey.
While everyone chases “perfect” AI — the kind that answers everything instantly and automates faster — I’m intentionally building misfit AI.
What do I mean?
At Ei4AiBooks, we measure success differently. Not by how fast AI responds, but by how many hidden contexts it reveals that others might miss.
In Healthcare, instead of listing pharmacological actions — it reveals hidden patterns: “Why is medicine less effective when the emotional loneliness of elders is pressing more?”
In Marketing, instead of just answering “How to increase sales?” — it asks: “What connects your customer to buy — Price or Trust?”
Like that low-bounce ball keeps our game going instead of flying away – it keeps you engaged in understanding the ‘why’ behind the ‘what’.
Because sometimes, the solution that doesn’t look perfect on paper is the one that fits your actual needs.
The real question:
Are we building AI to make us smarter — or just faster 🥎?
Creative Reminder ✨: Sometimes, imperfection is where the most meaningful insights lie. It’s not about chasing perfection — it’s about finding purpose.
Is creativity just about doing something new… or is it about seeing what others overlook?
🔹 Everyone clocked with AI, but Apple says — it’s not truly AI, just patterns.
🔹 Everyone feared AI would swap jobs, but MIT’s ROI stats show failed AI investments.
🔹 Most businesses chase profits, but some true leaders create impact.
Creative thinking is about sensing those hidden shifts in context. Where others see limits… outliers create possibilities with purpose 🎊.
In simple, like our one great teacher who doesn’t just explain things. “They train your eyes to notice the one green signal that opens new paths“
🌈 Happy Teachers’ Day to all the great teachers and mentors — you are the green signals in our journey, true outliers who create creators and shape possibilities. 🎊 📚 👑 🌈
✨ Context changes everything. Outliers are creators. ✨!!
✨ Recap:Last time, Chen (45) had stood before the capsule — a boy with no records, no neural birth ID, and empathy signals unlike anything the system had measured. Now, as he dug into the boy’s memory logs, he found something even more unsettling
🎬 Scene 1 — The Missing Path (2400)
Reviewing the boy’s memory logs, Chen (45) saw something that should have been one in million — emotional pain pathways, thought extinct for centuries.
Yes, in 2400, comfort wasn’t just common; it was a law, engineered into every life. Even organ failure no longer brought fear or discomfort. A patient swallows a capsule carrying a swarm of nano-robots (bio-fabricators). They mapped damaged cells, unfolded into quantum lattices (tiny atomic scaffolds for rebuilding) and rebuilt the organ layer by layer — not with plastic or steel, but with the patient’s own cultured DNA.
During the process, neural signals were down-weighted temporarily, so no pain ever reached the brain. By dawn, a failing heart or liver was new again — without surgery, recovery, or even a scar.
The body forgot what it meant to suffer. And slowly, so did the people.
Chen thought the system had erased struggle (the pain) forever. Until the boy appeared.
🎬 Scene 2 — The Event Chain Machine (2400)
The boy blinked — twice, then once. On the massive display, neural lines lit up in a deliberate rhythm.
The system had always been flawless. Every citizen’s life was tied into the LifeChain Grid — the Mega Graph — neat, predictable, complete.
In simple, when you Step out at your assigned timeslot; Instantly, the system predicts your next move—just like ChatGPT once predicted the next word token. But here, the ‘tokens’ are moments of life.”
The grid calculated which traffic lights would turn red, which air-drones would hover waiting for clearance, and how that single step connected to a chain of outcomes — from delayed deliveries to a family’s dinner arriving late, to a city’s supply lines shifting course.
Each tiny action branched into thousands of possibilities — profit or loss, joy or sorrow, survival or collapse — all visible before they began.
Chen’s thoughts broke as the base report lit up before him — every citizen’s life mapped as ribbons of light, chains of choices stretching endlessly. But for the boy… there was nothing. No light. No path.
The absence of a chain… the presence of pain…
And then, a thought rose uninvited: Was this real balance… or just control?
🎬 Scene 3 — The Two Roads Now
Much like Chen in the 2400s, we too face invisible systems dictating our future…
You see this in our world too; Layoffs have become routine — profit chains grow stronger while loyal employees are erased from the very teams they built. One day you’re inside the system, the next day your paycheck is blocked. AI begins writing reports, answering emails, even coding — the very work you once did. And suddenly, your life feels like the boy’s report — blank, uncertain.
And you wonder: what next?
Pain reveals who truly cares. And it offers two roads:
Live with it and drift.
Use it and build.
Some end their story at heartbreak, failure, or layoff. A few turn it into something new — a poem, a tool, a business — so others don’t face the same. They don’t escape the ache. They transform it.
What if your deepest pain was the spark for a new approach — to name it, learn from it, and build what no one else imagined?
The #SimpleSecrets
✨ Think Like a King — Choose Your Road
Students: Don’t just chase marks — build skills no machine can replace curiosity, empathy, creativity.
Developers: Learn the tools, but also the story behind the code. AI can write; you decide why.
Teachers: Don’t just share knowledge. Teach resilience — the strength to rise when systems fail.
👑 CXOs, Board members and VCs: Like the Event Grid, make choices that optimize not just for profit, but also for the well-being of humanity.
🌍 All of us: Upgrade yourself before you’re forced to. Struggles aren’t walls; they’re training grounds. Start with your ‘Why’ to decide your Road!
🕰️ Flashback in future: A thousand years ago, Raja Raja Sozhan faced uncertainty too. The monsoons fed his kingdom, but rains could fail, rivers could flood, and crops could vanish. Instead of leaving survival to chance, he built reservoirs, canals, and stone-carved water rules. The kingdom thrived — not because nature was predictable, but because leadership prepared for the unpredictable.
Year 2413: For the first time in decades, the AI President’s Office allowed citizens to physically access Earth’s most sacred, protected zones — like real beaches, nature parks, and freshwater riversides.
Until now, such places were experienced only through high-fidelity Virtual Emotional Pods:
Ocean soundscapes projected through bone-conduction halos — (A wearable ring that transmits realistic ocean sounds through bone vibrations — bypassing the eardrum and creating an immersive experience. In this world, nature is often simulated, not visited.)
Scent-mapped Sea breeze via neural stimulators, paired with AeroTact Skinsense mesh — so realistic, the brain believed wind had touched the skin and salt had kissed the air.”
Customized 👓 8K VR picnic simulations with soft-touch sand grids
People cried happy tears at digital sunsets. They believed they had “been to the beach.” But they never left their pod. Even this real-world visit required a pre-booked travel slot — assigned by the AirRobo Transit Grid to avoid crowd surges and emotional overstimulation.
No one could travel freely anymore. Every route. Every minute. Every move… needed permission
And yet, for one rare week — Sea Week — people could unplug from the perfect and step into the real.
🕰️ Flashback: 20th Century We could travel anywhere. Stay where we wanted. Wander without a slot or scan. Also, yes. Some chased numbers, some polluted and some forget to care from nature to neighbors. But Still – How lucky we were?
🎬 Scene 2 — The Observer
Amid the excited crowd stood Chen-45, assigned not as a visitor… but as a Field Ethics & Emotions Officer from the Responsible AI Division.
His task?
To observe, in real-time, how humans emotionally responded to real-world stimuli
To monitor empathy spikes, reaction delays, and social bonding metrics
To file deviations, anomalies, or underperformance into the National Emotion Index
He wore a discreet wristband-sensor hub and a neural recorder behind his ear.
• ✅ Mission ID: EWX-7-432
• ✅ Observer Zone: Shoreline Block-C
• ✅ Objective: Record Natural Emotional Signatures (NES)
Families around him posed for real memory captures. Some touched seawater for the first time. A child screamed in joy just watching a crab scurry sideways.
Chen, meanwhile, took silent notes.
Then… his own wristband blinked:
“Subject: Self
Status: Emotion Irregularity Detected
Option: Auto-Notify Supervisor?”
He hesitated. Pressed No.
Instead, he reached for his old neural ring – now updated with a new – neurons weights —from a damaged AI toy he’d recovered from the boy.
Not to measure others. But to feel himself.
Something was changing. And it was not in the report.
🎬 Scene 3 — The Magic of Human’s Emotional world (Ei-Visa)
Chen logged off. Shift complete. Metrics filed.
But… he didn’t return to the transit pod. He’d been granted a special slot under the AI -Staff category
Something held him back.
He stepped down toward the shoreline — slowly, quietly — and let the waves touch his bare feet for the very first time. A strange sensation. Not just on his skin —but somewhere deeper. Unmapped. Unmeasured.
For the first time in years — He wasn’t scanning. He was noticing… himself.
It was nothing like the VR Beach Hubs:
No pre-programmed wave timings
No touch-based sensors mimicking tide pressure
No synthetic sunset to sync with mood
This wasn’t engineered peace. This was something else.
Raw. Random. Real.
🎬 Scene 4 — The Boy in the Capsule
The next morning, Chen accessed the Manual Route — a restricted path reserved for AI Controllers and Ethics Officers.
Deep within a secured vault .
A boy. Held in a glass capsule. Sedated. Unclassified.
No neural ID. No emotional profile. No record in any AI system.
It wasn’t artificial intelligence. It was inherited emotion.
He activated the Ei-Memory Projector to explore the boy’s subconscious.
Most signals failed. Unstable, fragmented…
Until one frame stabilized:
🖼️ A blurred photo from 2032. Decoded tag: MiniSozhaa.
A broken toy. Damaged circuitry. But radiating something Chen couldn’t explain.
Not data. Presence.
He stood still — no scans, no notes. Just silence.
What kind of world raised a child like this… without Ai systems?
He sat beside the capsule. The boy’s empathy levels pulsed faintly — as if sensing something in return.
Chen slowly opened his private neural archive. Paused. He searched something outside the Index: instinctively, he whispered an unlogged prompt:
“Search: memory bits — neural path echoes — any trace from the 20th century. Keywords: Family. Emotion. Culture, Values.”
🕰️ Whispered Projection: Circa 1017 CE — Sozhaa Dynasty
No screens. No scores. No emotional ratings.
Yet people lived in rhythm. Felt deeply. Acted with grace.
A father would rise before dawn — not to check stats, but to light the oil lamp and softly wake his children… “Thangamea (my precious) …” — with care-wrapped Tamil.
A mother drew Kolam at the doorstep — not for symmetry or status, but to feed ants, to breathe in balance, to echo ‘yogo’ through posture and invite grace into the home.
She stirred love into simple food. Listened without interruption. Served herself last.
Grandparents told stories beneath neem trees. Lessons were passed voice to voice, not device to device.
They didn’t book time slots to visit/care each other. They just… showed up.
Even silence carried meaning — because people listened with their eyes and hearts.
Reflection: Did we forget to pass down those simple secrets? Or is there still a way… if we trust the boundless creativity of the human spirit?
[To be continue]
P.S: Reviewed and enhanced using ChatGPT, OpenAI.,
MiniSozhaa is a palm-sized, emotionally intelligent robot that acts as a character coach for children. Powered by AI + Graph + Edge Robotics, it guides kids through reflective Q&A, story-driven interactions, and culturally grounded emotional learning — inspired by ancient wisdom and modern leadership values.
You: Why does it hurt so much when I fail? RaSu: Because it mattered to you. And that ache—that’s your legend being carved.
You: But what if I don’t win next time either? RaSu: Then you rise again—and each time, the world leans in closer to watch. Not because it’s easy. But because you dared to earn it.
When every win is guaranteed, it loses its meaning. But a win that rises from failure? That becomes legend.; those are the ones that shape history. That’s the story worth remembering.
” Sometimes, slowing down allows you to see the path others miss, and that’s where real innovation thrives.”
You: “RaSu, in this fast-paced world of AI, don’t you think we risk falling behind if we slow down?”
RaSu: “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Sometimes, slowing down allows you to see the path others miss, and that’s where real innovation thrives. The true king knows when to move swiftly — and when to reflect deeply.”
