Once upon a time, on an eerie hilltop stood a very unique tree.
The unique tree grew a very special fruit.
Now, the very unique and very special seed of this special fruit from the unique tree was created as a result of a world-shaking, goosebump-giving, gravity-defying chemical reaction.
“WOW”, said Einstein. What on earth could this wondrous reaction be?
It was a reaction that got the molecules the seed contained entangled in the most fundamental way.
So fundamental and so obvious that Einstein couldn’t figure it out.
He thought it must be a uber powerful force, more powerful than gravity that forces this kind of an entanglement, which is for some reason hindering the seed’s way to germination. Maybe the seed must find all its sister seeds and experience identical environmental influences simultaneously. This has not happened yet. There is just one tree with one fruit with one seed. Oops, error… was. The tree died. The fruit died. The seed died. And Einstein died.
Of course this is fiction. But there are certainly many strange scientific truths that are waiting to be discovered. Just wait and watch.
posted by J @ 11:54 am
Comments: 8
8 Comments:
Your first passage instantly reminded me of the first 25 seconds of this wanderful saang. :D
Now will go and read the rest!
Pray can you enlighten us on that seed which responsible for this tree to come into existence in the first place.
when they invented mainframes, they thought world wouldn't need more than 5 of them... today there are more than 50 billion PCs... and the number is growing... few decades ago they said - every thing that's to be invented/ discovered has been done so... still new things come up... it's a continuous process of growth and change...
death is not the end... it's the beginning ... of a new life!
scientific truths? after U killed Einstein??? and thats not before U made him look silly with biology!!!
Hi ! Thanks for dropping by 'my place' ma, soooo nice of you :)
Hmm...when I was in school, I also had a tree like that. Although I'd planted it in a regular 12" pot, it had grown large enough for me to sit under its cool shade during the hot summer months and watch the world go by. Moreover, sitting under it was extremely therapeutic for me, never failing to calm my perpetually frayed nerves. For some reason, it had just the opposite effect on my friends, driving the quietest and most pious ones to debauchery so vile that even my teenaged brain would get scandalised. Anyway, I still remember the fateful afternoon that summer. It was exam time and, as usual, I was sitting under the tree and studying The Doctrine of Lapse. I clearly remember the fabulously intoxicating smell that my tree was exuding that day. And, oddly, I could also sense that I was more alert than usual that afternoon, grasping the rather boring concept with unfamiliar ease. It was really as though Lord Dalhousie had stepped out of the pages of the wretched book and explained every nuance of his harebrained policy himself. I have no recollection of dozing off but I do remember being dragged home, by the ear I might add, by my mother, who had never seemed as intimidating as she appeared then. That I was standing in the middle of the road, behaving like a policeman and regulating traffic when she found me, may have had something to do with the very serious threat of unprecedented violence I detected in her demeanour that day. The next thing I remember is being dunked, head first, into the refrigerator, which, expectedly, had a cooling effect on me. However, before I went to bed that night, I remember having this irresistible urge to visit the tree and to touch it once. Being of a rather weak mind, I gave in to the temptation and sneaked out. And, even though I’d had a wholesome dinner that night, I couldn’t stop myself from plucking a handful of leaves and stuffing them into my mouth. To cut the long story short, on the following day, I entered the examination hall with the kind of confidence that, in others, I have often described as obscene. Anyway, as I sat down and looked at the question paper, I could barely contain my joy because, for a change, I knew the answer to every question. With ill-concealed whoops of delight, which were quite unnecessary under the tense circumstances, I picked up my pen and was about to start writing when the image of the tree suddenly flashed before my eyes. I shook my head vigourously, to try and clear it, but when I looked up and around the class, I was horrified to find that the supervisor had disappeared. In her place, my potted tree was walking about, keeping a stern and watchful eye over the students. It was so strange that no one else had noticed this switch except me. But that’s because they’re all busy writing the test, I reasoned with myself. This, somehow, broke the spell and I was able to, finally, shift my gaze from the tree to the question paper. I decided to first tackle the question about the Doctrine of Lapse, which I knew like the back of my hand. But, as I started to write the answer, I realised that my hand-brain co-ordination was not working normally. While my brain was busy outlining the demerits of the thinly disguised annexation policy of the British, my hand was writing furiously about the inner conflicts and introspective attitude as revealed in Hamlet’s four soliloquies. Not only did I not know what I was writing, I was certain I had no idea who this Hamlet dude was. What I did know, however, was that I was doing something horribly wrong but I just couldn’t stop myself. A similar question on the Subsidiary Alliance was answered away by the lyrics of a Leonard Cohen song, which, if you haven’t already figured, had no connection with Lord Wellesley’s policy. Each time I looked up from my answer sheet, I found the tree looking at me and trying hard to suppress an evil grin. This continued for three excruciating hours, during which time I wrote about everything except what was relevant. The result was a foregone conclusion and when it was announced, it seemed to confirm what everyone had come to suspect: that I was either on drugs or an imbecile. Or, both! This was way too much for my pride and, as months of pent up frustration and anger burst forth, I rushed to my courtyard and smashed the pot to bits. Then, I dragged the wretched tree as far away from civilisation as I possibly could and buried it six feet under. Deep and thoughtful analysis of the issue led me to conclude that everything that was wrong with my life owed itself to the evil influence of the tree. As soon as this realisation set in, I got rid of all the plants in my house and had the garden area concretised. Once bitten and all that, after all. Now I don’t allow anything green into my house and it’s been years, in fact, since I even ate any green veggies. It’s been years, I guess, since I’ve been me. *Sigh* Therefore the moral of the story is: Beware of trees...they really bite!
Nice post. Science has indeed lot of places to go. Unless you are GW Bush then it's all about faith and everything is still under doubt like global wraming. :-)
I have a blog too, comments flames are very welcome. :-)
Maybe I shouldn't venture an opinion - I may not be part of your target audience.
But it did occur to me that you might be a little less cryptic / mystic / tantric. And a little more kind to plain Joes like me.
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