12:24 AM

I seem to be transfixed with this idea of a pervasive thread that runs beyond every material thing and transgresses every boundary imaginable, to bind the whole theme of the universe together. And why just the Universe? Who has ever proved that there is just one Universe? maybe its just a part of the "Infinite-cosm" of cosmos. Just like a star twinkles upon the cosmos from a distance, and when you look closer and deeper into it, its a complete plethora of life, and nature, in whatever form; be it the icy satellite going by the name of Europa, or the raging fire within Saturn. Life is pervasive in itself, going beyond the description of words, and when seen at the higher level of consciousness, beyond physical form. And just as this star is just a part of the Cosmos, may be the Cosmos itself is just a part of the Infinite-cosm, as I like to call it.

Infinite-cosm is a spectacle that we can not see, but only feel and observe. The mystics seem to be a part of that cosm, (not that we are not), but they can feel it. Enlightenment gives you the power to see beyond the obvious, to feel rather than see. Before,m it gets confusing and I mix this theory of Infinite-cosm with teh transcendental nature of existence, let me elaborate on why to consider the cosm as infinite, and to that extent what reference to chose for Infinity?

Albert Einstein, of all the things that he gave to this world, the one that has categorically and drastically changed the way we observe and understand the World, is his theory of Relativity. And I'm concerned more with the essence of the theory rather than the mathematical representation itself. Before Einstein came up with this stroke of brilliance, it was assumed that Space is a 3-dimensional entity, studied much in accordance with the Geometer concept. And Time was treated as a separate entity. But with the theory of relativity, Einstein dissolved the separation between the two and created what we now know as the "Space-Time continuum". Space can never be separated from time, and vice-versa. And with this the whole concept of absolute entities dissolved into oblivion. Relativity became the norm of the day. Reference, instead of being the privilege of the Almighty, became the authority of self.

Infinity is in itself a disputed theme. How can you call something infinite if you can't measure it? But then that is what Infinity is, something that cannot be measured. But then again, the question that has the capacity to rip apart any conclusion presents the same dilemma in front of us...What reference? The stretch of a thousand kilometers would be infinity for a snail. and for that matter the measure of a few centimeters would certainly serve as infinity for the Bacteria. Infinity is a relative term. So when we talk of an Infinite-cosm, what reference shall we choose. The cosmos itself is as vast as infinity to us, and the mysteries of the cosmos serve as a happy hunting ground for the astronomers and the scientists. Then what is the need to further complicate things with an infinity beyond infinity.

At this moment, the integration of the micorcosm with the macrocosm becomes important. As you move from the micro to the macro cosm, the laws of physics repeat themselves, only what changes is the reference; from the minute entities of the mesons and the pi-mesons to the macroscopic planetary motion, the laws are the same at the transcendental level, but what changes is the reference and the interpretation of the laws. And it is in continuation of this theory that the concept of Infinite-cosm becomes relevant.

Physics has given us answers to the daily questions of how the universe sustains itself and carries out its daily activities. But the laws of physics have the interpretation that we observe only under the Reference that we use. If the laws within Physics are not bound by a fixed reference frame, what binds Physics itself into a fixed reference frame? Think of a world where gravity instead of attracting towards the center of a heavy body, repels stuff. Who can refute the legitimacy of such a world, if I invert the reference of attraction and repulsion. It is this thought that brings forward the possibility of an Infinite-cosm of Universes of which ours is just like any other star in the cosmos. We may invest our scientific acumen to find the minutest particle that constitutes our world. But if you enlarge the scale, we may be clamped down to the same minute level in terms of the Infinite-cosm. There must be some thread that transgresses this cosm to bind them together. Maybe it'll take another century for the world to accept the idea of such thread, or maybe it already has (String Theory), but the reference may change.       



The Creaking Chair - Part III

11:42 PM

14 May 1998

How ironic,
death had to choose this day,
out of the other 364
it could have sent its icy kiss on...
Or maybe it was trapped like me,
in the ecstasic glow of 14 May,Friday...
The spell so strong that no other turn of the diurnal cycle
could make its presence felt...

Happy Anniversary, my Love !!!

No, not our marriage..
before you pinch me on my right shoulder,
like you always did...
when you punished me,
on one of my moronly stupid remarks,
or at the extremes of our foreplay...
The skin there is still soft...
But our marriage..
still 14 months and 14 days away...

The candle light on the first,
The second honeymoon on the tenth...
The rendezvous on the 24th...
but the one you loved the most
was the bunjee jump on the 16th...

But today is not the day we vowed the celestial ties...
You invariably forgot it year after year,
And how I used to be taciturn the whole day,
trying to show my hurt...
and how you made the day memorable 
with your proposals in the evening at 6,
I still remember the 24 ways you did it..
14 May, the day I had first proposed you...

25th anniversary...
the 25 ways I were to propose you through the day,
I still rehearse it at nights when I can't sleep,
still nervous like a nascent lover...

'Fate', you aleays said,'You can never defeat it,my love'

The memory of burning sandalwood,rising pyre
at six in the evening,

I now know you didnot forget 14 may this time...The card i found under your pillow...scribbled upon it with rose petals...

"Happy Anniversary, my love"




11:36 PM

The parchment soiled with the blot,
stinged as if by a ray of hope
the hand flung back,
resisting the flow of ink 
throght the pen into his veins again...

He stared in disbelief,
the single dew of royal blue,
spread like blood strewn on battle ground...
dilating pupil of his eyes,
followed every pattern 
that the single stain on the parchment made...

The net of nerves, 
intellectual grays...
suddenly conscious of consiousness grew...
awakened in his dream again
he saw the painting he used to create...
Unfinished the edges here or there,
grafted finesse in places he knew...

Flourish in strokes,
calligraphic art...
the poet in him like a master
beckoned his words..
Breathing again his senses alive..
in that cell confined,
he wrote again...

Irony laughs at an innocent's grave...
He wrote his confessions,
the convict proclaimed...
in the verses he reigned...



Music That's Called Words....

11:45 PM

" I slept uneasy last night"

What would you interpret, if I say so? if at all you will. These are just an randomly arranged group of alphabets. They may mean a thousand things to a thousand different people. Every word in it may have different connotations for minds that have different rhythms flowing through them. No, I'm not talking absurdity. You can counter act me, saying that it means just what it is supposed to mean.That I slept uneasy the forgone night.

I am no philosopher to make theories or deduce new variables or laws to define what I mean to say. Neither am I so good in expression that I may make you believe what I see in these words. But then that is the whole point of me writing this.

Words have life.Just like we have one.Some are proud of it, others fret it, yet a few denounce it. But everyone has it. Words are pointless and they have a point to make. Words have their own feelings, when some believe that words are expressions of feelings. I utterly oppose them. Words are themselves feelings. Words are emotions. Words are what holds the whole sanity of your mind in a single rhythm. Ever tried to hold down words. Just cut them off. Don't allow even the thought of words to cross your subconscious.You feel sorry, you feel angry, you feel happy. Now try and feel them without giving them the name that you just did. Try to feel the ecstacy, the agony, and for the same moment allow these words to be wiped out of your mind so that you have no memory or recognition of what they mean. Can you still feel your emotions. Words are emotions.

I have a crush on words. I am in fact deeply in love with them. but often I fall short of them. in fact every time, when i wish to pen down myself, I end up writing someone else's thoughts. Never mine. Does this mean my words betray me? or is it a proof of what philosophy says, that we all strife to enlighten ourselves and the process that works in steps, ever so tediously and methodically cleaning our souls and uniting us to the penultimate truth - the string that runs through the whole universe, making us a part of it. Are words that hidden string that we look for. And the reason I end up writing abstract is because I have yet not recognized the true nature or words. And so the cycle of Karma continues unabated.

No I cannot let you believe what i have written.Even if you ask me what have i written, I would not be able to tell you. For every word is an emotion that is yours. The moment you look upon it, the moment you let it enter into the active faculty of your brains, you make it yours. It is no longer mine. And so what that word means or in what context it is used, i cannot explain or even guess. It is your word, your world that it is a part of now. And now its your journey, your strife to deduce what it means to you.

Words are just words for few. For others it is expression of their emotions. And for very few it is life.




11:07 PM

That's what they called it...
The couch and its colour
How strange that things can fall
under the collage of happenstance,
He never believed in co-occurances,
scepticism at its best...

An Indian in the red blazing heat of Saharan desert,
Even the hue spread by the subdued lamp
sitting across the cozy lounge,where he lay now
Exhausted, and slightly befuddled,
brought back memories of those summers...
How often they rambled pass his defences,
the mirage-like hues of the Egyptian desolate..

These wafty fumes of mystic incense,
some kind of Arabian soothing trick,
the hostess had said, rather enigmatically...
Even this triggered his oflactives into wild tremors,
as if it was searching for something congrous,
the aroma that had kept him intruiged,
for the week long stay in the land of pyramids, maybe...

He was just in love with the hues
that the desert painted....




11:46 PM

आज रोने का मन किया,
तो तेरे कांधे की याद आयी, ऐ दोस्त .....
आज ज़माने की भीड़ में 
एक साथी की खोज में था, 
तो तेरी आवाज़ याद आयी, 
मुझे बेहेन मेरी....

आज इस मोड़ पर किस रस्ते को चुनूँ,
ये समझ न सका ,
तो आपकी सम्झाहिश याद आयी, पापा...
आज ज़िन्दगी की दौड़ में 
थक के भी नींद नहीं आयी,
तो तेरे आंचल की छाव याद आयी,मेरी माँ....

आज फुर्सत से बैठा आइने के सामने,
तो किसी शायर की ये बात याद आयी....
है कितना मतलबी इन्सान,
अपनी परछाई से पूछो, कहा उसने,
मेरी भी तो याद तुझे अँधेरे में ही आयी......


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