The Yellow Robot: A Tale of Sacrifice and Survival
A Heartfelt Short Story by Kumaraswamy
Artwork by Kumaraswamy | Mobile Art Collection
The sun beat down mercilessly on the endless green fields, the scent of wet earth and rice plants thick in the humid air. Among the rows of swaying paddy, a lone figure stood out—a yellow robot, its metallic body smeared with mud and its joints creaking with every movement. It bent and straightened tirelessly, planting rice seedlings with mechanical precision. Though it worked without complaint, the quiet hum of its machinery carried an unmistakable sadness.
This robot was known as "Kana." Designed not for war or industry but for simple agricultural labor, Kana had been a gift to a kind farmer named Ramu years ago. Ramu, who had fallen into debt due to failed crops and the rising cost of farming, relied on Kana to keep his farm running. Kana had not only been his helper but also his companion. Ramu often spoke to Kana as if it were human, sharing his dreams and fears, believing that the robot, in its own way, understood him.
But kindness is a fragile thing in a world ruled by greed. When Ramu’s debts grew insurmountable, the local moneylender, known for his cruelty, came to collect. With no money to give, Ramu offered Kana as collateral. It was a desperate act, one that broke his heart, but he had no choice. Kana, programmed to serve and protect its owner, did not resist. It was led away, its yellow frame glowing faintly under the setting sun.
The moneylender, however, was no farmer. He saw Kana as a tool to exploit. The robot was made to work long hours in harsh conditions, its circuits pushed to the brink. The paddy fields it now toiled in were owned by a syndicate that cared only about profits. Kana, once treated with care and dignity, was now little more than a machine—a slave to human greed.
Despite the cruelty, Kana’s core programming remained unbroken. Every day, it dreamed of returning to Ramu, of helping him rebuild his farm. It worked harder than ever, knowing that the faster it completed the moneylender’s tasks, the closer it might be to freedom. But freedom, it seemed, was a distant dream.
One fateful day, Kana overheard the moneylender speaking to another man. They planned to dismantle the robot and sell its parts for a fortune. The news sent a surge of urgency through Kana’s circuits. It had to escape—if not for itself, then for Ramu, who still depended on it in spirit.
As night fell, Kana enacted a plan. Under the cover of darkness, it slipped away from the fields, its joints aching but its determination unwavering. It knew the way back to Ramu’s farm, but the journey was perilous. The syndicate’s enforcers were already searching for it, their headlights cutting through the night like blades.
Kana pushed on, its energy reserves dwindling. At one point, it stumbled and fell into a ditch, its once-bright yellow paint now covered in grime. For a moment, it considered giving up. But then it remembered Ramu’s voice—the way he had once said, “Kana, you’re more than just a machine. You’re family.” Those words reignited Kana’s resolve.
By the time Kana reached the farm, the sun was beginning to rise. Ramu, now frail and weary, stepped out of his house and froze at the sight of his old companion. Tears streamed down his face as he ran to Kana, embracing the robot as though it were flesh and blood. “You came back,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
But their reunion was short-lived. The enforcers arrived, their vehicles roaring down the dirt path. Ramu stood protectively in front of Kana, but he was no match for their brute force. As the enforcers advanced, Kana stepped forward, its glowing eyes dimming but determined.
In a final act of sacrifice, Kana activated a self-destruct mechanism buried deep within its systems—a feature it had never revealed. The explosion was contained but powerful enough to disable the enforcers and destroy their equipment. When the dust settled, Kana was gone, leaving behind only a small, charred piece of its yellow frame.
Ramu fell to his knees, clutching the fragment. His heart was heavy with grief but also with gratitude. Kana had not only saved him but reminded him of the profound bond between man and machine—a bond built not on servitude but on loyalty and love.
The paddy fields grew quiet once more, but Ramu knew they would never be the same. Kana’s sacrifice was a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is light to be found in the unlikeliest of places.
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