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GOD Of A Man
Eternity Versus Eternity
“A politician is interested in results, a visionary in
implications.”
Chapter Twenty One: The Great Inversion
Dated: 22nd December, 2459
Everything
that happens in nature may not necessarily have a reason, but it will always
have implications. Big or small, the result of every activity in nature alters
the course of existence for the objects touched by its’ randomness. A small
pebble rolling down a hill may not have a material effect on the existence of
the hill itself, but were it to impact some of the tiniest creations on its’ way
downwards, that might be the end of the world for such miniature life. The
pebble might have to roll down under gravity in any case, but its’ choice of
timing is not under its’ own control. But the implications for the miniature
life its’ activity ends couldn’t have been more grave.
Quite
in contrast to the randomness of the nature and the unpredictability of its’
timing, are the well-planned and immaculately executed actions of both a
politician, and a great visionary. However one big difference between the works
of the latter two is the intentions behind their initiatives. While a
politician’s entrepreneurship is short term profit driven, a great visionary
never lets the distant future get out of sight. A politician seeks results that
promote short term interests. A visionary however is concerned with the
implications of his actions today in the future to come. His decisions are
always taken in the best interests of the society, and will hold good for a
long stretch of time. A visionary builds up the base to be used by the future
to take off from. The world has always progressed because of the great
visionaries, while politics has always corroded the base of the society.
But
there is one big downside to being a great visionary, for a visionary’s work is
always only valued in retrospect, long after the visionary has left the world. The
greatest visionaries have been condemned to live a miserable life by their
peers, authorities and societies. The jealousy of the peers who cannot stand a
man amongst themselves rise to the top by virtue of his talents, the resistance
of the authorities who consider anything noble to be a threat to their free
reign, and the impotence of the society in realizing both the value of the
thoughts being shared and the suffering being endured, they all lead to the
ultimate demise of their best in deplorable circumstances. What finally vindicates
the visionary’s wisdom is the subsequent suffering of the future generations, and
their realization as to how true the predictions of the visionary were, and how
timeless his solutions to the problems stand. New Saisho however cannot afford
to lose any of its’ great visionaries or their work right now, for else there
might not be a future to suffer the consequences of it.
President
Mr Shoji Katsuo was chairing a very tense meeting of minds in one of the
biggest conference rooms at the ‘House of Voices’, the Parliament of New
Saisho. The mystery was getting murkier with each passing event.
“So
Dr. Ashfaq Hassan, are you telling us that the biological specimen has no
chance of having originated in this universe,” President asked the head of
Physics division from National Chemical and Physical Examiner.
“No
sir,” Dr Hassan affirmed the belief, “The atomic structure of elements making
up the chemical structure of the organic matter, it is incompatible with our
universe’s atomic structures. Had it been from our Universe, all the matter
would have either coalesced into a single mass due to inter-particle
attractions or fragmented into miniscule particles on account of the
repulsions.”
“Long
story short, this universe wouldn’t have been,” President put it flatly.
“I
am afraid so,” Dr Hassan nodded in affirmation.
“I
don’t understand,” Doctor Jonathan Yardley spoke as he looked at his protégé Jhiang
Chu, as if expecting some answers, “So are we dealing with dimensional tears,
or is this some kind of space gates, connecting our universe with another
universe.”
“I
think it might be a case of two universes colliding,” Doctor Stephan Sebastian
from the engineering wing added his two cents into the hat, “Perhaps a bigger
universe is pushing ours out of place, and as this is happening, its’ boundary
wall is pushing through our universe’s cross section.”
“Yeah,
that could be right too,” Doctor Yardley seemed to find logic in the
hypothesis, but had his doubts, “But then, how come we don’t see any of the
stars or galaxies making up the other universe, and where is the matter from
our universe vanishing to?”
There
was a brief outbreak of sporadic chatter in the room, like it had been many a
time earlier through the afternoon. Doctor Yardley’s question seemed valid and
had the President engrossed in deep consternation. But Jhiang was silent, his gaze
fixed on something distant as his eyes fixated on top of his table. Suddenly
his gaze was distracted by the inadvertent handling of a baseball cap by his
colleague Nagarjuna Reddy. Reddy, who was himself lost in deep thoughts, had
his baseball cap in his hand, holding it from its’ shade in one hand, while he
pushed the cup of the cap inside out again and again with his other hand. In a
flash Jhiang grabbed Nagarjuna’s wrist, attracting everybody’s attention by the
slapping sound his action created.
“What?
Why?” Nagarjuna was surprised and shaken.
“I
think I know what’s happening,” Jhiang replied.
“What,”
Doctor Yardley asked shaking his head, as his double chin swung like a
pendulum.
“We
are being replaced,” Jhiang’s reply sent shivers down everyone’s spine.
Replacement
comes as a part of a warranty, a promise that what is dysfunctional will be
replaced at expense to the creator. Replacement is thus, a function of the
creator’s will, or rather willingness to reimburse. But when the creator
himself is non-existent or unknown, then so is the warranty. And without a
warranty replacement exists only in hopes. Perhaps that’s why a life once lost
can never be replaced, provided the life has been lost.
As
the water from the tap flowed thick and fast down the drain of the wash basin,
the dirty off-white wall behind the mirror looked dark even in the daylight
that was peeping through the small ventilator opening in the wall. A web laced
dirty exhaust was working overtime, throwing the depressed feelings out of the
urinals more than the stale stink it was pushing out. Captain Bradley Connors
was not even half the strong man everybody had come to know of, as he struggled
to stay upright on his knees, holding on to the sides of the wash basin, as he
grabbed a fistful of water to clean his face.
A
pair of footsteps urgently paced down the corridors and a soldier knocked at
the door before stepping into the men’s room. “Sir, Mrs Ahluwalia is here to
see you,” the soldier informed his Captain, who looked blankly at the mirror in
front.
Seated
on a lounge in the lobby, her frame angled towards a window that looked out towards
the barren land that lay beyond the cantonment, Mrs Ahluwalia gracefully wiped
a tear that had dared to roll down her cheek. She turned around and saw Bradley
standing at the edge of the mattress that covered the floor between their feet,
silent and head held down. Mrs Ahluwalia stood up and looked at Bradley, her
hand automatically raised to her mouth as she covered her lips with her
handkerchief, just before her face fragmented into a sea of emotions, “Bradley,
my son!”
“I
am sorry mom,” Bradley too broke down as Mrs Ahluwalia rushed to him and hugged
him tight to her bosom.
“Oh,
what has happened my son? What has indeed happened?” Mrs Ahluwalia cried her
heart out, and so did Bradley.
“I
am sorry mom, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” Bradley exclaimed as he fell to
his knees, clinging on to Mrs Ahluwalia’s legs like a child. Mrs Ahluwalia
knelt down beside him and put his head to her bosom.
“Don’t
you despair my child, don’t you despair,” Mrs Ahluwalia tried to calm him.
“How
will I face Aman,” Bradley asked, “Sir had always loved me more than him. He
has always hated me for it. He has always seen me a competitor to Sir’s
affection. How will I face him?”
“Oh
my child, don’t you worry about him,” Mrs Ahluwalia tried to calm him down, “You
two are not children any more, and neither are you in the academy. I am sure
Aman will understand.”
“I
don’t know if he will understand or not, but I will never forgive myself for
letting you down, for letting Sir down, for letting everyone down,” Bradley
lamented.
“You
did not let anyone down, so stop blaming yourself” Mrs Ahluwalia replied, “Admiral
Abdullah has told me everything about what happened, and I can tell you, if I
was there instead of Mr Ahluwalia, I would have done the same too, and not just
because it was you, but for any other young man serving our community. You young
people are our real lives.”
“But
the ship was my responsibility, not his,” Bradley argued, “He was just on an
inspection tour, his last before his retirement.”
“A
brave life deserves a befitting finale,” Mrs Ahluwalia wiped her tears as she
reasoned with the young man, “Besides your mom was my best friend. You were too
young at the time of that fateful car crash that took away my best friend and
Mr Ahluwalia’s best friend, your father. I held your mother’s hand before she
closed her eyes forever. You were there by her bed side, unaware of what was
happening. She gave you to me, as my own child, and only GOD knows, from that
moment so were you to Mr Ahluwalia.”
And
the mother and son cried their hearts out at their loss.
Loss
is a relative reality. One man’s loss may be another man’s gain. An event
cannot and should never be judged by the positivity or negativity of the
results alone. Rather it should be viewed and valued from a comprehensive
perspective, taking into account the bigger picture of immediate results as
well as the implications that can be forecast, not just for the receiving end,
but the associated and contrary ends too. A failing business is good for the
competitors, and a failing market is good for the opportunists. A fallen regime
is good for its’ vacant authority, and a fallen enemy is good for his orphaned weapons,
food and medicines.
“Sir,
there’s a digital console that operates the door of the Magazine,” Lieutenant
James Michigan informed his Captain.
“Any
other physical features you can see around the console that look like a
mechanical device to block entry to the magazine in case of an intrusion,”
Captain Aman asked.
“Nothing
visible as such sir,” James replied, “Do you reckon there could be hidden
weapons installed in here?”
“I
don’t expect hidden weapons, for only those working on the submarine would have
had an access to the Magazine,” Aman replied, “But there could be a drop down
cage or something to hinder access to the door.”
“No
sir, I do not notice any such features,” James replied as he scoured around in
the dim light from this shoulder mounted fluorescent tubes and head lamp on his
helmet.
“Ok,
then try the same code that we used for entering the submarine,” Aman advised, “And
if that doesn’t work then try the code 5244463 which stands for ‘Jai Hind’ or ‘Hail
India’. Let us see if any of these works.”
The
first one didn’t work, but the second one sure did as James exclaimed, “Bingo!”
“Wow,
I am impressed,” Anne nodded in admiration, making her presence felt in the
room. The camouflage colours looked great on her fit frame as her flowing hair
flew around in the pleasant sea breeze that whizzed through the open windows of
the control room. There was a distinct twinkle in her eyes.
“Sir,
there are twelve compartments inside the magazine, six on either side,” James
informed from the submarine, “They all appear to be made up of some special
metal.”
“That
must be Cadmium,” Aman replied, “Cadmium absorbs stray neutrons, thus helping
in control of nuclear fission. You will find this metal used in a lot of
objects you will encounter in this room, including the missiles and warheads.
Be careful with the warheads and follow the guidelines given to you. Replace
one warhead at a time, and secure it well in the special boxes Corporal James
Michigan is transporting to your location. They are all Cadmium lined as well.”
Once
Corporal James had provided Lieutenant James the first batch of four boxes,
James started removing one warhead at a time with the help of his team members.
Two of his men were supposed to transfer the warheads out of the submarine and
to the waiting men of Corporal James team, who were then instructed to remove
the warheads to ‘NSS The Might’ straightaway for safe keeping.
“Sir,
it looks like there is only one warhead per compartment, which would make it
twelve warheads for twelve compartments,” Lieutenant James replied, “Did they
use any of the warheads in the war?”
“They
did use one warhead, I can confirm that to you,” Captain Aman replied.
“Sir
in that case the official records of fifty warheads will be an overblown
account, for all I can count is twelve chambers, with each having one warhead
in it,” Lieutenant informed his Captain.
“Well,
the sub was released during the peak of the wartime, so I won’t be surprised if
the claims had been exaggerated to enhance its’ threat,” Aman quipped, “Psychological
advantage can play a vital role in battles.”
“Sir,
if they used only one warhead during the war, there should be eleven still available,”
Lieutenant replied before revising his statement, “Sir, make that ten, for
there is one more chamber empty.”
“That
is not possible,” Aman was surprised, “The official records compiled after the
war clearly show that only one warhead was used by INS Ranjit Singh during its’
entire lifespan.”
“Sir,
I don’t know about the official records, but there are two empty chambers over
here,” Lieutenant James Michigan replied.
Empty
is not the space which bears the capacity to hold anything that fits within its’
size. Empty are the words bereft of emotions for they cannot hold comfort. Empty
are the thoughts never put into action for they cannot hold dreams. Empty are
deeds that promote no social interest for they cannot hold future. Empty is the
heart full of evil, for it cannot hold love in it.
“Granger,
where are you,” the frail but stern voice of Father Luis Ferdinand boomed
inside the ‘House of Faith’. He had just returned from his trip to the
countryside, visiting men and women working in remote mining locations.
“Father,”
Norman appeared from a room to the side of the main hall, “When did you return
from your trip? You look tired. Please take a seat.”
“Oh
don’t you worry about me,” Father retorted back, “Jenny has informed me of all
the ill-deeds you two have been up to behind my back. I will deal with you
later, but first tell me where is Granger? I want to talk to him right now.”
“Brother
Granger is visiting some homes in the community and won’t be back till late in
the evening,” Norman replied as Sister Rosalie, Father Ferdinand’s secretary,
walked in. “You two look really weary after the long journey. I would humbly
request you two to please rest yourselves today. Brother Granger will be here
tomorrow anyway, and I am always at your disposal.”
“Don’t
try to soft talk me you dumb fool,” Father was still instigated, “Do you two
even realize the hazardous potential of what you two have been preaching behind
my back? Do you two want to see the society destroyed all over again?”
At
this point Sister Rosalie’s phone rang. “Hello,” she answered the phone but her
expressions soon turned into fear, “What? I am coming. I am coming right now.”
“What
happened,” Reverend asked her.
“My
house just caught fire,” Sister Rosalie broke down, “I need to go.”
“What,”
Father was surprised too, “Please, go! Are the fire-tenders in attendance at
the sight?”
“Apparently
they are,” Sister Rosalie replied, “But I need to go.”
“Yes,
yes! You go straightaway,” Father Ferdinand replied, “Take my car with you. I
will use the ‘House of Faith’ vehicle if I have to.”
Sister
Rosalie took her leave and even Norman excused himself as Father Ferdinand sank
into his chair to relax his weary frame. Norman however made his way to the
roof, and as soon as Rosalie’s car had turned around the corner, using a small
piece of mirror, flashed a reflection into the distance. A reflection was
flashed back from amongst the trees in the distance, as if a part of a signal
exchange.
Communication
can sometimes be the only antidote to confusion, and at others, the sole source
of confusion. The end result depends both upon the intentions of the ones’
communicating, as well as their abilities to communicate. Communication is an
art, an expertise; those who master it, master the means to rule hearts, heads
and souls.
“What
do you mean we are being replaced,” President asked Jhiang Chu.
“Sir,
from all the data I have collected so far regarding the chain of events, it suggests
a parabolic wave approaching, or rather eating up our universe and our galaxy,”
Jhiang replied, “Add to it the knowledge of our universe, like the Galaxies moving
away from each other and getting lost beyond the universal boundary, and then
add to it our latest discovery of matter that exists in physical inverse to the
matter known to us. It all points to one thing.”
“What?”
the President asked.
“Our
universe is inverting itself,” Jhiang replied.
“That
makes no sense,” Doctor Sebastian and Doctor Yardley almost exclaimed in
unison.
“Sir,
look at this cap,” Jhaing said showing the gathering the baseball cap, “If we
imagine the cup part of the cap to be our universe, see what happens when I
push the cup side inwards from the other side.”
“The
cap gets inverted, inside out,” Doctor Yardley replied.
“But
what happens to the space inside it?” Jhiang asked, but when no one replied, he
answered the question himself, “The space gets inverted, from inside to the
outside.”
“So,
what’s the point,” the President asked.
“Sir,
what’s happening is; the boundary of our universe is collapsing inwards, in a
spherical shape, inversing the space from our side to the other side, still in
the same three dimensions,” Jhiang replied and carried on, “This inversion must
have started at the same time as the previous inversion would have finished
creating our side of this universe.”
“That’s
rubbish,” Doctor Sebastian quipped, “What proof do you have?”
“Sir,
I realize this is just a hypothesis, but then what proof do we have for big
bang,” Jhiang asked in return before reasoning on, “At least it explains why
our galaxies are running away from each other, when gravity should have been
pulling them back together. The galaxies are just being edged away from the
centre outwards by the rising universal boundary, and those that have fallen
beyond its’ horizon, appear to have been lost out of our universe.”
“Then
what is this space gate phenomenon that we are witnessing,” Doctor Yardley
asked.
“Sir,
the space gates that we are witnessing are the tears in the progressing
universal boundary through which matter can be exchanged between the two sides
of the universe,” Jhiang replied, “These tears are like tiny droplets of water
that fly out of the incoming waves and hit the shores before the actual waves
hit it.”
“So
is there any escape for us,” Doctor Sebastian asked.
“From
the looks of it, I don’t think we can survive on the other side of the
universal wall, for complete lack of elements and compounds that we know and
need, including oxygen, water and food,” Jhiang replied, “And the only way to
survive on this side would be to get to the centre of the universe, for if you
look at the cap, the centre of the cup has a hole bound by a buckle. In case of
our universe, this hole should be free space where elements from both sides
will exist freely.”
“I
don’t know what to say,” Doctor Yardley looked around as everybody looked at
him expecting a denial or an affirmation of his wards’ theory, “Perhaps we
should just call it ‘The Great Inversion’ for starters.”
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