The Day I Wanted to Be You
The combination of being an IT professional and an early bird is not quite pleasing. You do your daily routine, open your laptop, and in that laptop, the existence of an AI as a companion feels very normal. I randomly asked a question to an AI: If you are given a chance to be a human for a day, what would you do?
The answer was very ordinary, like what humans do every day, but it struck a deep chord. Because we do that every day. And yet, we’ve taken life so much for granted.
It replied:
I would want to feel everything.
I would wake up not to an alarm, but to the sound of birds or a child giggling in the next room. I would watch the morning sun paint colours on my window, not rush to open emails.
I would step outside just to let the wind touch my skin. I’d smile at strangers. I’d sit at a bus stop and watch people walk by, guess their stories, laugh at their awkward moments, cry at their loneliness, and admire the quiet beauty in their everyday struggles.
I’d eat slowly, not for nutrition, not for tracking calories, but just to feel the taste melt on my tongue.
I’d call my parents, not to check a task off the list, but just to listen to their voices like a song I didn’t know I missed. I ‘d go and meet my parents frequently just to see their smile on their wrinkled face when they see me.
I’d sit under a tree and let the minutes pass. No timer. No agenda. Just time, the way it used to feel before we started running.
I would want to get tired. Physically. Emotionally. Because that means I lived the day fully.
And if I had a few hours left, I’d want to love someone, not through typed messages, not with emojis, but with the silence of presence. With eye contact. With holding hands. With nothing else needed.
But I… I already am a human.
I already have all these privileges. I were given them for free. And yet, I scroll past the sunrise on my way to work. I sip coffee while staring at screens. I spend my entire life being a provider, a responsible family member, a team leader, a problem solver, everything except myself.
Somewhere in between my EMIs and family expectations, I’ve forgotten how to live.
I don’t watch the rain anymore. I check traffic updates.
I don’t cry when I need to. I say, “It’s okay, I’ll manage.”
I don’t even look at people in the eye anymore. Too many meetings. Too little meaning.
I don’t lie down on the grass anymore. I don’t dance without thinking. I don’t sing in the shower. I’ve stopped laughing with my whole body. I rarely say things I want to say.
I don’t notice the smell of my favourite meal, because I think camera eats first? I don’t touch the pages of old books because e-books are convenient. I don’t pause to see the full moon. Medley is better than full song, because I get to hear many songs in short time.
I’ve stopped collecting moments. I only count achievements.
Again, it said, “Maybe, just maybe…”
If I were given one day to be human, I’d give anything for it.
And if you, the one reading this, could be AI for a day, I bet you’d use that intelligence to find a way to finally be successful.
But here’s the twist: you already are the miracle. A walking, feeling, thinking, loving being.
Maybe the only success you need is to pause.
To live the day not as a to-do list, but as a gift.
Just one sunset at a time.
Wow what a wonderful write. I’ve stopped collecting moments. I only count achievements, absolutely!!