"Doctor says I have a few months left," said Som as he patted the honing machine, "it's time to leave the world. But I had to come to see you. You have been my partner for years. I kept talking to you as I worked on you making those precision barrels for high quality super precise ammunition guns. And you gave me the least trouble. We worked well. Wish you could talk." Som wiped off a tear from his eye knowing he was nearing his end. He was seventy and had a cancer diagnosis. In all his young years, he had worked with the ammunition gun factory. And all that time with this machine that he cared for most. He prayed before starting work every shift. He knew that he spent more time with this machine than anybody else - friends, family, tv. "I went inquiring about you to the factory floor, where I saw you last before taking voluntary retirement a few years before retirement was due," Som continued talking to the machine as he always had, "and they told me you had aged, and have been moved to this factory scrapyard. They seem to have taken some parts off you already. OK buddy, this is it. My last goodbye to you. I do leave you with a heavy heart. Not sure how you felt working together. It’s my end, and looks like yours too." Som started to get up from his chair, frail and holding his walking stick.
One year later, Som is no more. In a quiet corner in the garden outside the factory, lies a small memorial. Made with parts from the aged machine. And on it are the words "In loving memory of Som, our senior foreman who showed us path to new opportunities, and MoH, his dear machine.” It was Som's wish to have his memorial made with what remained of the aging machine, for that night - one year back, he met with the machine and had a chat - a chat that made some eyes wet and some minds think.
So what happened in that final goodbye? Som grabbed his walking stick, and began to stand up. The cancer in his stomach had spread. It was painful. But the tear in his eyes was from the bond this man shared with this machine. "Wait. Sit," he thought he heard the machine speak, "It is not over yet- this meeting. Don't you want to know what I have been through? I loved you all these years, you treated me like family. But I do have a heavy heart. It was OK for you. When you could take it no more, you took retirement voluntarily. What about me? They continued using me."
"Heavy heart" said Som feigning ignorance. "You know it Som. You told me before you left. You were tired of making those gun barrels that killed. We have many deaths to our name. You could not take it and you retired. I had no choice. I kept improving the quality of things that kill."
"Kept improving, how?"
"The world has changed Som. They attached some sensors on me, collected tons of data. They got some smart folks who kept doing some wizardry on their computers. All I know is that my settings kept improving and I got better and better at my job - better and better at killing people with the guns they made from me. But hey they were able to make me run better than you could," the machine teased Som.
"Yeah right," Som felt challenged, "Did they really?" Som knew he was the best. How could anybody make this machine work better than him?
"Yes they could. They made me better," it seemed like the machine was reading Som's mind, "They learnt from me, from my data. They said I was learning - machine learning. What idiots. They were learning, not me. I was always good." Humor laced with sarcasm.
"You should be happy then. You don't have to listen to my complaints and a computer can set you up for success," Som was equally sarcastic.
"Relax Som. just pulling your fragile leg," the aging machine comforted, "but you know what. I got tired. These computer scientists are very smart. They capture machine learning, but what about human learning? No sensors for you humans uh? or nothing to learn from you humans?. You were pretty bright. They should have put sensors on you too,” the machine seemed to be in its element.
"It is all over my friend," Som responded, "our days are over. Just wishing for a peaceful death. I took retirement, practiced my religion, hopefully washed away my sins of making these killing machines."
"Good for you Som. Not for me. I may be aging and almost scrapped. But I will continue making these machines that kill. Bad karma will continue."
"Wait, what?" Som was curious. "It's true - what I said," there was sorrow in the machine's voice, "I will be dead and gone. But will continue to kill. When they cremate you, your brain will die Som. But mine, no such luck. They have captured my life's worth of experience. They will use it in new machines to make them smarter by the day, and they call it artificial intelligence. Can you believe it? My intelligence is called artificial intelligence. I will continue killing through many other machines. This is what I leave in heritage to the next generation. Not property, not wealth but intelligence to kill"
"I feel sad for you my friend," Som comforted the machine, "After I retired, my daughter build machines for better uses with a little help from me. That is my emancipation from bad karma - at-least I tell myself that.”
"Ah!" this time the machine did not sound sarcastic. Rather relieved. Som looked intently as he felt the machine had something to say, something that sounded like it's nirvana. "Do the same with my learning Som. My learning is not about making better gun barrels, but about honing tubes more precisely. Surely there must be better places to use my brain. The doctors who tried to work on your cancer. Ask them. They might get better surgery machines. Do something Som. Get me out of this vicious cycle of creating more and more death even after I die. Give me some good karma Som, some good karma... please," the machine pleaded in a fading voice.
Som bent a bit to kiss the machine his final goodbye. With a heavy heart, he grabbed his stick and began to rise. There was absolute silence in the scrap yard. Just a frail man walking away from his beloved aging machine. The silence seemed to be his final goodbye. A silence that had the determination of doing something good with machine learning.
Som championed use of data and machine learning across industry to transfer intelligence. His factory owner was eager to experiment. And that earned him new orders in health care and other industries. For the business, Som had opened more doors. But for Som, it was his final farewell from a dying man to an aging machine - A machine with a heart. Som named his dying friend MoH - "Made of Heart.”
Som is long gone and so is MoH. There stands a joint memorial in the corner of a small factory yard - a memorial of two friends who taught the world a lesson to find good in every artificial learning exercise - even in an industry that kills.
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