Essays of a Wandering Mind!
The question that defies all answers is not ‘how it all began?’; it’s rather ‘when…’
Certain man-made proportions were well beyond his reach of understanding and so it has been with the myth called time.
So while we sit here and think ‘all’ has a beginning and a well defined end, we can rather limit thoughts by saying our definition of time ends with us.
But it goes on…
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(more…)The world keeps moving.
When I say moving, I don’t mean revolving or rotating around something. I mean moving as in travelling in a linear path. And when I say so, it is only logical that everything associated with the world does.
Anything from the dust to sand to worms to birds to animals, everything does; and so do the sun, the planets and the whole cosmos – whatever you see and don’t, whatever you want to see and you don’t wish to either.
It is something like a very big bus journey, only the destination is still way too far for numbers to hold (in terms of any unit)!
In a way, for us, the world is the center of the universe – no matter what science may suggest.
When we are in a journey what’s more fun than having a riot? Play games, and when the bus is this big, we have so many to meet, so much to do; the limits of time are bound to be squashed by the mere dimensions of the bus!
So we end up playing games like, you know, birth, death and rebirth and travel from this planet to another, meet people, things, become things, try doing mundane things like speaking or writing to convey thoughts and sometimes don’t do anything at all, but just look out of the window and think of the travel and wonder who we are, why we are here and what to do in the future; we morons still associate time with ourselves and vice-versa, even when we’ve realized it is futile!
The world is a dot. That’s right, you heard me. It is a dot. How big a dot? Well probably as big (or as small) as this one – .
In all probability even smaller. There is no guessing how much.
When the world comes to a dot what are we? We are naught! Yup nothing more than nothingness, just a mere dot’s distance from fading away. Fading away into oblivion, waiting to be nothing more than anything and no more than nothing.
(more…)