Living Machines

To Tazeen, this was a strange event, which he wrote in his diary. The date was May 17, 2454. He wrote: “Today, Muaz has found something that was once called a book. It was a very old book. Tazeen’s grandfather once mentioned his China and said that in his grandfather’s time, all writings were printed on paper.

Tazeen and Muaz looked at the pages of the book several times. All the pages had turned yellow and rotten. They were turning the pages in surprise, because it was very surprising to them. Muaz said: “In this day and age, making a paper book would be a waste of money. I think, once someone reads a book like this, they will throw the book away.

Our computer screen has millions of such writings stored, and the computer’s memory can store the same number of book writings.” Tazeen was eleven years old. She couldn’t read as much on the computer screen as Moaz had read, because he was thirteen years old. So I asked: Moaz, where did you get this book? Moaz pointed without looking and said: From a junkyard, maybe someone from the Ajaib family sold it.

“She was still busy reading the book. Tazeen asked: What topic is it on?” Moaz said: “It’s about school.” Tazeen said in surprise: School? The school that used to be in a building when my grandfather was a child. What can be written about it? Our teacher, Amish, is inside our house.” For the past few days, her mechanical teacher had been testing her on her exams while teaching geography, and her results were getting worse and worse after each test.

One day, her mother even grabbed her and shook her and then took her to the town inspector. He was a chubby man with a red face, whose room was full of small tools, electrical wires, and boxes of various sizes. He smiled at Tazeen and gave her an apple to eat. Then the inspector put Tazeen’s mechanical teacher, whose face was replaced by a large black screen, back together in minutes.

The inspector put the robot teacher back together in an hour. Although Tazeen wished that the inspector had not been able to put it together either. But the screen attached to the mechanical teacher’s face immediately started showing the instructions for the lesson, along with the instructions for the lesson. Tazeen was so tired of all this Not as much as the housework that he had to do after the teacher gave him lessons.

He had to write all this homework with a mechanical pen on a slate attached to the bottom of the screen. The robot would immediately tell the teacher the result. If the answer was wrong, the bell would ring so loudly that his mother would come out of her room and ask, which answer was wrong. The inspector finished his work, smiled twice and patted Tazeen on the head affectionately, then he said to Tazeen’s mother: Tazeen was not at fault, but the lessons of the next grades in this subject were starting to appear on the screen.

Many times, such technical malfunctions occur in the computer. I have adjusted the lessons according to Tazeen’s mental level. Now Tazeen will not have any difficulty with the geography subject., One day, Moaz told Tazeen about the book again: The school mentioned in this book used to exist many centuries ago. What do you mean by centuries ago? Tazeen said: ‘I really don’t know everything about the schools of centuries ago, but I had also heard that there used to be teachers in schools then, who taught.

‘Moaz said: “They were not mechanical teachers like today, but human beings.” Tazeen was surprised and said: ‘Humans? How can humans be teachers? How can their memory be as good as a computer?’ Moaz said: “They used to teach children lessons. They used to give them homework and ask them to answer questions.” Tazeen asked: “But a human being cannot compete with a machine in intelligence.

I will never allow a stranger to come and sit with Mir at home. Hearing this, Moaz started laughing, then said: Hey, those teachers did not live in houses like our mechanical humans. There were separate buildings for schools. Where students used to go to study. Tazeen asked in surprise: Did all the children study the same kind of lessons? Moaz said: “Yes, the children of one group studied the same kind of lesson.”

Tazeen said: “But my mother says that we have to set the teachers in a specific way so that they can teach the children lessons and each child studies a different lesson. The mechanical teacher is instructed to do whatever the children want to study. Moaz said: “If you want, of course, you don’t even read about those old schools.” Moaz quickly said: “When did I say that I don’t like to study about old schools?”

I will definitely read about those old strange schools. They were just talking when their mother's voice rang out. It was time for Tazeen school. Tazeen's school was the same size as her bedroom. Tazeen's school had the same time every day except Saturday and Sunday. When she sat down, the screen lit up and a voice came from it: Today we will study fractions in arithmetic.

Please, show me yesterday's work! Tazeen involuntarily let out a cold breath. She was thinking about those old schools, about which her grandfather's grandfather used to talk. All the children in the neighborhood used to go to study. They used to laugh loudly in the schoolyard, make noise. They used to sit together in their respective classes and then go home together during the holidays.

They all studied the same lesson every day. Therefore, they helped each other at home while doing school work and the teachers who wrote beautiful qualities like talking to each other and compassion were also human. There, on the robot teacher's screen, it was being written: "When we gather the two together…" Tazeen was thinking about how much everyone would have loved each other before. How much joy children would have had going to school. Humans are happy when they meet each other, help each other and enjoy life. We are the only ones living an artificial life. It seems as if we ourselves are living machines! I wish I had been born in this era, I wish!

#future #artificialintelligence #education #dystopia #school #robots #humanconnection #shortstory #technology