Monday, August 3, 2015

The Temple of Dead Gods : Inside the Temple

The first peek inside the temple took away my capacity to feel. Reality appeared like a long forgotten dream that only exists in some unknown Deja Vu's. I was no longer aware of my existence independent of everything else. Confined by soulless walls the temple was still without boundaries. Light took forever to bounce off those walls.Images became memories before they could be seen.

The mathematical laws inside the temple were different.Addition was not known.The whole was absolute, it could not be added to another whole to create a third whole. One and One did not make two. The pillars that supported the structure could not be counted. There was one pillar and there was another one pillar and so on.Counting depends implicitly on addition, so the only known number inside the temple was one.

The Ether inside the temple was viscous, luminous. My first step inside the temple was labored, making my way through the ether. There was no air, no smell.The luminous dots strewn across the ether were ideas. Every idea could be seen, plucked and planted.Some of these dots merged together to form another dot, some would just fizzle out.Once I was inside the ether my body was no longer solid. It was dissolving and coalescing at the same time. Any part of my body I was not conscious of would slowly start dissolving in the ether. Alarmed and scared I would notice the part of my body and ether would slowly start rebuilding it.My consciousness was holding my body together.

My head was leaking. From inside the brain, making its way through the skull and my skin there was purple smoke coming out.The harder I tried to plug the leak the more uncontrolled it became. I was leaking memories. After moving around the ether for a long time, they settled down as images. Bright, luminous images of different colors. The azure images of my childhood, faint grey images of adolescence, the yellow images of manhood. There were also images from before my childhood,
before my birth. Images of my death in several lives before, images of my struggle.

Walking was no longer necessary. If I had to move all I had to do was to want to move. The idea of movement was very much unlike ours. To get to a place I had to dissolve into ether. What traveled between two points was just the luminous idea of my existence. I was rebuilt at my destination. There was no time spent in doing anything.

There were spiral planks everywhere. None of these planks ever intersected. They did not lead anywhere. I wanted to get on one of these planks not knowing where it would take me. It was probably  going to take me to the temple's core. I could hear a faint sound of something quivering in pain. I started dissolving myself again to get to one of the planks. Before I could lose myself to ether, something cold hit me at the back of my head. There was suddenly a lot of heat, a lot of light before I started falling into a deep, bottomless abyss of darkness.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Zeno and Nano

Zeno was a lonely man. In a sleepy town of Velia on the coast of Tyrrhenian Sea he only had his friend Parmenides for company. Velia was ravaged so many times that the only professions that prospered there were Philosophy and Prostitution. People would come to this city to be stripped naked either by Philosophers or Prostitutes or sometimes both.

Zeno was very ugly for a Greek. Socrates nose, ordinary face and small questioning eyes. Of his seven siblings he was the least loved of his parents. He appeared to have a problem with everything. He questioned every idea, every belief around him. He could not make sense of very obvious things in his life. He spent most of his childhood to get a glimpse of the time passing. He would argue - What has passed? He could not see anything passing, yet the world around him changed every moment. Maybe nothing passes, we just hop on from one world to another.Every world being only slightly different so as to give us an impression of something passing. But again he could not see himself hopping around either. The world just did not make sense to him.

He would spend evenings chatting with the only people who he believed understood something about the world - the famous prostitutes of Velia. Zeno would explain them why the whole world did not make sense and they would nod saying - "Yes we know".

He would never want the sun to go down. The nights were cruel. Forever sleepless, he was waiting for something, someone. The missing piece of the cosmic puzzle. He fell in love with the missing piece that would forever elude him. This is where is postulated the famous paradox of motions. While it is explained in many ways, what Zeno framed originally was about a man and his love across the river Alento.

If a man and his love are on the opposite sides of the River Alento and the man starts swimming across the river towards his love, will he ever reach her? He argued that the man would need cross half the river first, so he will still be left with another half. When he crosses the second half of the river there is half of the half still left. No matter how far he goes there will still be a part left for him to cross. There was no way he could get across the Alento. His love would forever be an unfulfilled quest.

He however saw people crossing rivers everyday. He just could not make sense of it, there was the missing piece he could not find. This was the missing piece he loved more than anything. He died looking for it.

2400 years after him, we know what he was looking for. Zeno was looking for his Nano. Nano was the missing piece of the puzzle. Nano is where the weirdness begins. Nano is a term attributed to things of the scale of 10 ^ (-9). This is the scale where the quantum behavior sets in. This is where you start growing week on your knees, your senses stop being your guide. You are left alone in Nano's company.

Nano will hold your hand and take you into this weird world. Unable to see, hear , touch, smell or taste you can only feel in this world. You can feel color , texture and smell without actually seeing, touching or smelling. She would show how gold has a different color here, how space-time continuum is warped around carelessly as if in a perpetual immobile stretch. The further we we walk with her the weirder it gets. Deep into this world there is place where existence becomes an idea. We cannot walk any further. She says it is Planck's wall. We have reached at  10 ^-33 cms. She has never been any further, the world beyond this does not exist.

Zeno did not realize that he could not keep subdividing space infinitely. Eventually he would hit the Plancks wall and no further subdivision would be possible. There would ultimately be a finite distance to travel. But Nano was not there to tell Zeno, Nanos did not exist then.

Friday, July 24, 2015

The Barber who did not shave himself

In a somewhat weird town there was a group of barbers who followed a simple rule - they shaved only those who did not shave themselves. Now let us make an assertion (which can either be true or false) - "There was a barber in the group who did not shave himself". Well possibly. What is the big deal about it? If the above statement is true, then by the definition of collection (that barbers only shaved men who did not shave themselves) the barber must shave himself. But also, no barber in the collection can shave himself. The statement can neither be true nor false. Something is seriously wrong.

In early 20th Century, Bertrand Russell's paradox, outlined above, lent a severe blow to the philosophy of mathematics that was trying to find its footing among established disciplines (or find it again after Archimedes, Plato etc) . 

Looking at the problem more closely a bit of help from mathematics might come handy. The “group”” as used in the paradox mentioned above is often referred to as a SET. A Set of things is different from the thing itself. A SET of humans is not a human. Similarly a SET of humans in love is not the same as a human in love. There is simple way of explaining this idea in mathematics (precisely Set Theory).

If x is free variable (Humans for example) and there is a property λ(Pronounced Lambda)  limiting it (Humans in Love, African Elephants, North Indians in Bangalore etc). Then we can define a set

A = {x:x is in love}. This would be read in English as A is a set of humans who are in love. Or more precisely.

A = {x:λ(x)} where λ is a property which means - " Is in Love".

I used hate those braces "{}" in set theory, but I guess she is like an elegant and exotic woman who wears braces to ward of insincere suitors.

Back to What Russel pointed out

Let us define a set R where R is a set of things that not members of themselves. In mathematics it would loosely translate as 

R = {x: ~λ(x)}

Where λ(x) stands for  x x . The ~ at the beginning of the property denotes the inverse. If λ(x) means a property where x belongs to x then  ~λ(x) would refer to a property where x does not belong to x.

If R defined above is a set of things that are not members of themselves and we start with the assertion, is R a member of itself? If R is a member of itself, then it must satisfy the condition of not being a member of itself so it is not. If it is not then it must not satisfy the condition of not being a member of itself, and so it must be a member of itself.

Would it be fair to say that such set like R cannot exist? Why not? Well it obviously leads to a contradiction, but that is none of R's problem. What is a set that is not a member of itself. If we look at a set of all things. All animals , plants, bananas, apples, Macs, iPods, men, women, mountains, Andromeda galaxy, Space, time and everything else that senses can perceive or cannot perceive. When such a set is created it should have as its members all that has been, is and will be. Even that which could not be. That would be everything, but  everything is also something so this set should contain itself.

For no mathematical or philosophical reason, I would like to name this set as ∞.

 = {x:x is everything}

But a set cannot be a member of itself. If there is something outside the set then
∞ is not a set of everything. 

How can infinity be contained within itself. If it cannot then there is something outside
infinity so obviously its not infinity. Indian philosophy terms it as Infinity's constraint.
Just being infinite, you have to be infinite in infinite number of ways, constantly evolving andchanging in dynamic infinity.

In Indian philosophy there is an apparent reconciliation of the problem posed by Russel. What if there are two infinities that can mutually exist without making the other impossible? What if there is an infinite that is also a null set, that is zero that is not manifest. That infinity can coexist with the manifest infinity. You could take out of infinity from the infinite that is not manifest but it will still remain zero. As the sage Kapil goes on to explain to his mother the theory of Samkhya, he says that the manifest infinite is nothing but knowledge (Vedas) defining tangible things out of infinite that is not manifest.

As Tulsidas puts it,

नेति नेति कर वेद पुकारा !

When Vedas tried discovering the non manifest infinite, they looked at everything they discovered in the process and cried out - ït is not this, it is not this. The universe (The manifest infinite was created in the process).

Thursday, July 16, 2015

पश्चाताप कर

पश्चाताप कर ,
पश्चाताप कर ,
अश्रु बहा ,
क्रन्दन कर।

नष्ट कर अपनी घोषतंत्रि,
हर स्वर को कम्पन कर,
साक्षी बन अपने विनाश का,
अपना सर्वस्व अर्पण कर।

छलनी उर में बसती कविता का,
अपने हाथों से वध कर,
काट अपनी हस्त रेखाओं को,
नियति को फिर से विस्मृत कर।

कर प्रज्वलित संताप की अग्नि,
आशा की आहुति कर,
नग्न हो तत्व से सत्व तक,
वेश्याओं का आलिंगन कर,

जीवन को वर,
विषपान कर,
तुमने पाप किया है,
तुमने प्रेम किया है !

Thursday, July 9, 2015

On an uncertain pi (22/7) his epitome of success he built,
and the drift of a pre -ordained force he called his fate !!

Monday, July 6, 2015

तुम मेरी अंतिम कविता

नियति की विस्मृत रेखाओं में ,
खोई तुम मेरी अद्भुत रचना ,
काल बोध के पूर्व सृजित ,
तुम मेरी अंतिम कविता। 

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Temple of Dead Gods

When you venture too far out into the sea never with an intention to return, when the fleeting horizon appears to get tiered of ever eluding every seeker, when thoughts start freezing in necessities fearsome chill, when hope starts taking laboured breath, you know you are close to the temple of dead gods.The waves stroking your vessel dies down, the guiding star is lost and so is every desire to go back to the world again. You put out every flame of aspiration, every hint of light from within, purge every memory. You offer your soul to the dark and then does the Island with temple of dead gods materialize.This is where every quest for an escape from life ends. This is where the quest for living death begins.

You no longer captain the vessel, the engines no longer hum. It is slowly sucked into an inconscient dark. In the dark around the island dead plants from the bottom of the ocean rise up higher than the sight can go. The laws of nature have given this place a miss. Huge swarms of fishes would crawl up the dead trees and cling on until they die breathless.In that moment between the end of life and approach of death every dying fish has a last enigmatic smile and casts a somber look on you.
The dead fishes are quickly reborn as they fall back into the dark ocean. They crawl up the tree to die again. Here the wheels of karma are no longer governed by time.

With your first step into the cloudy mass that makes the surface of the island, you are laid bare right to the hollow where your soul once resided. Everything ever made to protect you, to cover you is gone. Without your clothes and hair your body, without hope and love your heart and without time your existence all lie exposed to the play of possibilities. You do not feel nude, it appears you have worn nudity.The coherence of the body is gone. Every organ is the master of its own will. The body becomes the playground of the dark. Every emotion,every desire, every passion manifests and the body meekly obeys. Uninhibited tears,mischievous play of genitals, quivering of the limbs and a senseless beating of the heart. The desire to be a conqueror, the pain of a refuted lover, the joy of birth, the fear of death, the passion of fulfilled love all manifest together, fighting for your body. This does not end until all desires, all vitality has been fruitioned and have been lost. The Catharsis makes you pure for the temple.

From within the island there are no boundaries, there is no beyond. Time has long long been driven out of here, only the "Now" remains. An ever present, all encompassing now.Because the island is infinite it has no center. Its center is everywhere. Somewhere in this everywhere there is the temple of dead gods. Supported by dark clouds that cling to it with all their hands, the stairways to the door is made of dead divine virtues. The first few steps are made of compassion, probably compassion was the first to be sacrificed. After a laborious trip up the flight of steps made of compassion you reach the steps made of dead truth. Dark, ugly,mutilated truth lying bare on these steps. These were white marble stairs with marks of blood, as if it has trickled down not so long ago. After truth,beauty, joy, hope and love you reach the final step - the bare bosom of the earth. Infertile, soulless, hopeless.

There are no accounts of the inside of the temple. It is in a different dimension beyond what can be perceived and communicated.The fallen gods have many seekers and many come in the search of the temple. It is hard to say if they lived or died. It is my quest now. I see that the horizon has stopped receding and my hopes are deserting me. I am near. If I live through this, I promise to write what I saw in the temple.

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

मेरे थे जो , वो शब्द मुझे देदो।

                                                     शब्द तुम्हारे , दृष्य तुम्हारे ,
                                                     भाव  तुम्हारे , वेदना तुम्हारी ,
                                                     कल तुम्हारा , आज तुम्हारा ,
                                                     तम तुम्हारा, प्रकाश तुम्हारा।

                                                     सृजन तुम्हारा , प्रलय तुम्हारा,
                                                     सृष्टि तुम्हारी  , ज्ञान तुम्हारा,
                                                     मोह तुम्हारा, वैराग तुम्हारा ,
                                                     जीवन तुम्हारा , मृत्यु तुम्हारी।

                                                     उसकी इस निर्मम क्रीड़ा में ,
                                                     मैं अव्यक्त , अपरिभाषित पुरुष ,
                                                     तुम मुझसे रूठी प्रकृति।
                                                     प्रेम नहीं करुणा बस देदो ,
                                                     मेरे थे जो , वो शब्द मुझे देदो।

Monday, June 29, 2015

आज मैं जी लूँगा। कल तुम आ जाना।

पता है, मैं अभी भी उतनी ही सिगरेट पीता  हूँ।  हाँ बस अब नेवी कट नहीं पी पता, बोहोत स्ट्रांग लगती है. उस  दिन जाते वक़्त तुमने कहा था ना कि अगली बार आऊँगी तो छुड़वा दूंगी. लोग मना  करते रहे, कहते रहे छोड़ने को लेकिन मैं इत्मिनान  से पीता रहा कि तुम आओगी  तो छोड़ दूंगा।  डॉक्टर कह रहे हैं कि फेफड़ों की हालत उतनी अच्छी नहीं है. सिगरेट तो छोड़ना पड़ेगा। देखो ज्यादा देर मत कर देना।
याद है वो टाइम ट्रेवल की थ्योरी समझाई  थी मैंने। बहुत रात हो गयी थी या शायद सुबह।  मुझे पता नहीं तुम सुन भी रही थी कि नहीं. वो टाइम मशीन की बात थी ना, कि टाइम मशीन कुछ भी हो सकता है कहीं भी हो सकता है. मुझे लगता है सिगरेट ही टाइम मशीन है. या तो इस पार ले आएगा और तुम मुझे मिलोगी वहीं, या फिर उस पार जहाँ सब हैं, अशरीरी।

तुम्हें तो शायद अब याद नहीं होगा उस दिन मेस का खाना कितना खराब था और हम बाहर खाने आ गए थे।  उतने पैसे नहीं थे मेरे पास इसलिए मैंने झूठ मूठ कहा था कि आज वड़ा पाव खाने का मन है. तभी मैंने तुम्हें एक बिहारी non  veg joke सुनाया था।  पहले तो तुम समझी नहीं थी. थोड़ी देर बाद जब समझ में आया तो तुम बेपरवाह ज़ोर से हंसी थी।  तुमने नोटिस नहीं  किया होगा लेकिन पूरी दूकान में लोग तुम्हें घूर रहे थे।  कहते हैं आवाज time - space के नियमों को नहीं मानती।  सुनने में अजीब सा लगेगा क्यूंकि बचपन से हमने पढ़ा है कि sound needs a medium. पर इंसानों की तरह आवाज़ की भी रूह होती है।  वो शाश्वत है।  सुनने वाले के इंतज़ार में रूहों की दुनिया में रहती है, हमेशा।  शायद मुझे फिर सुनाई दे कभी।  हमेशा ध्यान लगाये रहता हूँ, कि कभी , कहीं वो आवाज फिर से सुनूँ।  दोस्त कहने लगे हैं मैं कम  सुनने लगा हूँ.

 कितना वक़्त गुज़र गया है , अब तो तुम्हारा चेहरा भी ठीक से याद नहीं। जब तक तुम थी तो मैं तुममें कुछ ऐसा ढूंढता रहता था जो मुझे बुरा लगे।  कोई कमी कोई flaw , ताकि मुझे तुमसे प्यार ना करना पड़े। प्यार आज भी नहीं करता. बस जिया नहीं जाता है।

आज मैं जी लूँगा तुम कल आ जाना !


It is said that time and space were the primal lovers and their marriage created the universe.Time and space existed even when the Creation was only a nascent idea. Deeply and inevitably in love with space, time had not other reason to exist. Cuddled in his infinite arms, she would playfully write and re write the laws of a world to be. With every rise of his bosom tiny moments would burst forth into eons and with every fall all possibilities would shrink to a moment.Time would playfully stretch her arms into the future and bring back souvenirs from a world yet to be created. He would only smile. Like a lightning the luminous smile appeared to outline the boundaries of the infinite.

Worlds were only possibilities then, bubbles that time created. All possibilities were there. All possible worlds co existed in her dreams. She would often take her lover to different worlds of future. There were worlds with rules of perfection and precision.Every moment was measured and would always lead to another fixed moment. Laws of causality was absolute. All things animate and inanimate were perfect.There was perfection but no harmony. There was no beauty because there was no ugliness, no joy because there was no misery. Among those worlds was a world very different. There were no laws. For no reason beautiful snow capped mountains would explode spilling ash and fire. Nurturing rivers would randomly spill hitherto infallible banks and spell destruction. People would love and hate at the same time. There was freedom to live, there was freedom to die, there was freedom to kill. This was the world that held space and time captive. The eternal lovers forgot the only inviolable law. They kissed, embraced, made love. They say that moment was outside the realms of possibilities.They broke the sanctioned sacrosanctness of marriage when they made love on the uninhabited peaks of mountains, depths of oceans, temples, brothels, virgin forests.

Time bore space a love child. Born of time's womb the laws of time did not apply to her. She learnt to walk holding time's hands travelling eons across past, present and future.In her father's arms she was every where, always. Absorbed in the delirious play of the child, time often forgot to pass. To hold her space would fold his hands from the extents of infinity.

The child was born before creation. Before space and time were meshed into the union of continuum. Before the sacred ritual of marriage was complete. She was born against the divine will. The lord could not sanction this. There could be nothing before the creation. There could either be the whole manifest world or just her. Her existence questioned his authority. There could be no way, the child had to cease to exist. She could not die as she was not born in time but of time.

Time was inconsolable. She implored the lord to make an exception, a tiny ripple in his preordained ocean of fixed rules, unchanging destinies.She wept moments pregnant with the possibilities of a universe yet to be. The lord relented. He let the child live !

The child lives today, mostly in the same world where she was conceived. We call her Hope.