…because we’d like to have the best physical abilities that any species has in terms of moving, seeing, hearing, strength etc. From the mind’s perspective, an organ that could upgrade itself to store more, to experience more, to work faster, to be more accurate. And it doesn’t stop there – reading others’ minds, telepathy…
We will see the beginning of all this in our lifetime. The progress might be slow, so slow that perhaps later generations wouldn’t realise how we’d lived without most of the artificial things that they would be taking for granted. How would this affect the experiences of life that we go through now – joy, sorrow, pain, ecstasy, spirituality? How long before what we call human would give way to a being that would probably exist forever, possibly without living? Will they even realise it when it happens?
It’s really difficult to write anything about a memoir because while it is written for an audience, it is also intensely personal. But I think the perspectives are such that it deserves a larger audience, and I hope even this drop in the ocean can help in that!
The book is more about the life, and less about the work. They obviously intermingle to a large extent, but the focus is on the relationships and the exchange of thoughts. In some cases, the subjects of discussion also manage to creep in, but they aren’t inaccessible, except on a couple of occasions. In the beginning, when I started reading about his background, and his family’s relationship with Tagore, I thought he was privileged. What added to it was the seemingly casual mention of historical figures, Gandhi downwards! It would be easy to think of this as incessant name-dropping, but Amartya Sen bends over backwards in acknowledging the privilege, and luck, that shaped his life.
For a change, D had already visited once, but she hadn’t tasted the jamun beer that had been recommended to me. And that was how, we ventured to ORR for an evening out, deviating from my policy of avoiding anything from Brookefield onwards!
Deck Of Brews is a little away from the main road (ORR) and resides in a large industrial-meets-Total Environment building. There are multiple seating options – al fresco, and at least two floors of indoor seating. One reason I was lured was the terrace, but that apparently is open only during weekdays, which is when their main crowd (from the IT parks nearby) frequents the place. The next best spot for a pleasant Bangalore evening was the al fresco area.
What an absolute classic Einstein’s Dreams is. I began reading, got lost, and then wanted to somehow stretch it to at least another day, and completely failed!
The book is a collection of 30 stories, set as dreams in the (fictional) mind of a young Albert Einstein as he works in the patent office in 1905, and in parallel, pursues the theory of relativity. The book also has a prelude, interludes and an epilogue featuring his friend Michele Besso.
Each story is a theme, an array of what-ifs built around the concept of time. Some of them are definitely connected to relativity but most of them are speculative fantasy. But all of them are concepts one could spend hours thinking over, exploring the nature of time and our individual and collective relationships with it.
I don’t really want to spoil the reading but some of my favourites were body time vs mechanical time, the world where cause and effect is erratic, the texture of time, the world in which some get fitful glimpses of the future, the one in which people live forever, and the world in which no one can imagine the future. The joy is as much in the prose as it is in the concepts. It reminded me of the many ways we take time for granted. And got me thinking of the many different ways in which it could have played out. The book is art and science, and as profound as it is relatable. An instant favourite, and in my Bibliofiles 2023 list.
P.S. It also somehow reminded me of Tales from the Loop.
Some favourites A world in which time is absolute is a world of consolation. For while the movements of people are unpredictable, the movement of time is predictable. Consider a world in which cause and effect are erratic…. It is a world of impulse. It is a world of sincerity. It is a world in which every word spoken speaks just to that moment, every glance given has only one meaning, each touch has no past or future, each kiss is a kiss of immediacy. If a person holds no ambition in this world, he suffers unknowingly. If a person holds ambitions, he suffers knowingly, but very slowly. The tragedy of this world is that no one is happy, whether stuck in a time of pain or joy. The tragedy of this world is that everyone is alone. For a life in the past cannot be shared with the present. Each person who gets stuck in time gets stuck alone.
After Kovalam and many trips to Kochi, the toss up was between going to the north (of Kerala) or discovering a bit more of the south. We chose the latter and specifically Varkala for now, but need to get moving in the other direction soon! “Keral Pradesh ke Varkal mein vacay” was how my Insta reel went. But yes, playing tourists in our homeland is now an annual practice.
