and the moon broke : little pieces of silver came dashing through the sky like glitters bursting out of birthday balloons. Trails of fire like a fast moving beam of light smiled at the surface they were to bombard. Enveloped by smoke, these warriors raced faster and faster and faster until....
"Yes papa", said the angelic little girl, as she cuddled up to her favorite soft toy "Blacky"- a stuffed black rabbit.
Papa beamed at little Angela from the twenty-one inch screen of the laptop that he had bought for her sixth birthday.
until they saw that the surface was sinking. The faster they hurled, the faster the surface seemed to cave in. The pieces kept flying and the surface kept collapsing ...
Little Angela was now asleep. The recurring images of hurling moon pieces and collapsing surfaces keeping her mind busy: and the rapid flickering of her eye signalling to her Papa that his job had been well done.
"The sun seems fine today", thought Angela, "I thought it was the moon that came in disguise as the Sun", her thought trailed, "Oh! it must be the other way round" - so concluded Angela.
As she tossed pebbles across the floor of her room, the sound of pebble rolling against marble almost drowned the thought that said- "Aren't they the same ? If x equals y, then doesn't y equal x ?" The complexity of the question seemed to be beyond the grasp of Angela's mind, and she kept rolling pebbles until one of them broke into two pieces. That was enough to divert the train of her thought - the complex questions were left for Papa to deal with.
The ability of an object to transform itself upon manipulation, affects directly, its novelty. Object, here of course does not extend to Human beings, for whom the opposite effect is seen to be rather dominant.
The pebble that was dull from all observable angle, was suddenly transformed into a novelty - the jagged surfaces created on both the pieces, shone with a metallic brilliance. The crystals of silica reflected light into her eyes, and like the orbs that live on reflected beams, her eyes lit up and her hands quickly grabbed the newly created pebble-ite (what she intuitively called the two pieces that had been formed upon breaking of the bigger one). The lines upon the pebble-ite were fresh and powdered stone flew from it and the glittery silica rubbed on her fingers and they also shone. "Pieces of the moon", she thought and hurriedly stuffed the pebble-ites into her pocket and glanced at the big watch above the door to her room.
18:09
That meant supper time. Or stew time, as she liked to call it - because, she argued in her brain, that that is what it was - a simple potato stew: A simple Irish tuber boiled in simple river water with simple rock salt and pinch of simple special taste enhancers.
Rivers that flow through impossible terrains make their way out through practice. The water that melts needs to think not much, neither does the river need exercise her mind. Just so, does the stew make its way through the impossible terrains of Angela's gastric system.
Tonight she was well armed with questions and even physical evidence. Hence, she was very excited. Everyone around her could see her excited and wondered what had happened. Well, the ones who wondered must have been new to the place. The ones who knew her well, either through constant interaction or vigilant observation, were least bothered.
The clocks kept ticking. Wait, wasn't there just one ?
Yes of course, her ward had one. But then, didn't all of them?
The sound of clashing pebbles, howling, cajoling, whispering remained thick outside ward1809, Angela.
"Yes papa", said the angelic little girl, as she cuddled up to her favorite soft toy "Blacky"- a stuffed black rabbit.
Papa beamed at little Angela from the twenty-one inch screen of the laptop that he had bought for her sixth birthday.
until they saw that the surface was sinking. The faster they hurled, the faster the surface seemed to cave in. The pieces kept flying and the surface kept collapsing ...
Little Angela was now asleep. The recurring images of hurling moon pieces and collapsing surfaces keeping her mind busy: and the rapid flickering of her eye signalling to her Papa that his job had been well done.
"The sun seems fine today", thought Angela, "I thought it was the moon that came in disguise as the Sun", her thought trailed, "Oh! it must be the other way round" - so concluded Angela.
As she tossed pebbles across the floor of her room, the sound of pebble rolling against marble almost drowned the thought that said- "Aren't they the same ? If x equals y, then doesn't y equal x ?" The complexity of the question seemed to be beyond the grasp of Angela's mind, and she kept rolling pebbles until one of them broke into two pieces. That was enough to divert the train of her thought - the complex questions were left for Papa to deal with.
The ability of an object to transform itself upon manipulation, affects directly, its novelty. Object, here of course does not extend to Human beings, for whom the opposite effect is seen to be rather dominant.
The pebble that was dull from all observable angle, was suddenly transformed into a novelty - the jagged surfaces created on both the pieces, shone with a metallic brilliance. The crystals of silica reflected light into her eyes, and like the orbs that live on reflected beams, her eyes lit up and her hands quickly grabbed the newly created pebble-ite (what she intuitively called the two pieces that had been formed upon breaking of the bigger one). The lines upon the pebble-ite were fresh and powdered stone flew from it and the glittery silica rubbed on her fingers and they also shone. "Pieces of the moon", she thought and hurriedly stuffed the pebble-ites into her pocket and glanced at the big watch above the door to her room.
18:09
That meant supper time. Or stew time, as she liked to call it - because, she argued in her brain, that that is what it was - a simple potato stew: A simple Irish tuber boiled in simple river water with simple rock salt and pinch of simple special taste enhancers.
Rivers that flow through impossible terrains make their way out through practice. The water that melts needs to think not much, neither does the river need exercise her mind. Just so, does the stew make its way through the impossible terrains of Angela's gastric system.
Tonight she was well armed with questions and even physical evidence. Hence, she was very excited. Everyone around her could see her excited and wondered what had happened. Well, the ones who wondered must have been new to the place. The ones who knew her well, either through constant interaction or vigilant observation, were least bothered.
The clocks kept ticking. Wait, wasn't there just one ?
Yes of course, her ward had one. But then, didn't all of them?
The sound of clashing pebbles, howling, cajoling, whispering remained thick outside ward1809, Angela.
Very nice write up Prateek ! You should really write more often :)
ReplyDeleteheyy...thanks for the motivation ritika
ReplyDelete