On an unknown date in the 1700s, a Scottish doctor George Cleghorn discovered that quinine could be used to prevent and treat Malaria. When the army of the British East India Company arrived in the tropical climate of India, the fatal malarial situation had to be countered somehow. They were advised to regularly take quinine as a preventative measure.
However, quinine was too bitter to be consumed on its own. Their solution to this problem was unique: they started adding a mixture of lemon, sugar, water, and gin to make the utter bitterness of quinine tolerable.
They called this cocktail gin and tonic. I call it love.
Tired of intellect, tired of goodness, tired of reason, tired of god, a woman falls deep into pure pulse.
What is life?
Life is body.
What is body?
Body is blood.
What is blood?
Blood is immorality.
What is immorality?
Question invalid. Answer not found.
Sometimes, in the universe, two particles (theoretically, any two things) become entangled with each other and act in unison even when there is no force between the space that separates them. It violates Einstein’s theory of causality because it would mean that there is something deeper that unites them that transcends the laws of space, that challenges our present understanding of the universe.
It was first described in the EPR papers of Einstein and is sometimes called the Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen paradox. However, if you try to harness this for the larger faster-than-light communication, quantum mechanics makes it impossible to obtain the same result. Thus, accounting for statistics, the violation is considered gone.
Einstein dismissed it as the “spooky action at a distance”.
Love is Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen paradox.
God is that spooky action at a distance.
Kabir, the 15the century Indian mystic poet, wrote:
जिन खोजा तिन पाइयाँ गहरे पानी पैठ
मैं बौरी डूबन डरी रही किनारे बैठ
Those who were searching found by diving deep into the waters
I foolishly feared drowning and remained on the shore.
It’s not possible to know what is lost until it is already found. Not even knowledge, on the shore is just a vague sense of loss.
I have been toying with the idea of writing a series of shorts inspired by sea shanties – and, for quite some time, I wondered if I should, because really, what do I know, what right do I have to write about the world that is not mine?
But I looked at the sky with a little bit of wine in my glass and I wasn’t sure anymore which part of the world belongs to me and which does not. Its every part, its every song is mine.
The world is mine.
My father, the ever controversial, the ever outsider of the Hindi literary scene, is once again part of another controversy. I usually keep to myself, never getting involved in any of this, I don’t usually even talk about my parents and their work. However, this time some people have ‘threatened’ him that they will reveal his real self to me: the charges are that he is a misogynist, a sexist writer, a problematic man, etc, etc.
I know the tricks of his trade. He is a provocateur. He enjoys writing things that will anger people. But I am not here to defend him. I don’t fight other people’s battles. I am here only because I have been mentioned.
The kind of freedom I’ve had growing up, I now realize, is almost unheard of. My life, my views, my writings have always been free. So, I am here to reciprocate that privilege: he is free to write whatever he wants without worrying about what I will think of him.
To honour his freedom, because he has always honoured mine.
In this old Bollywood song, the hero is torn between two women, two worlds, two philosophies: the good hearted, simple, and sweet Nargis – and the charming, manipulative, and seductive Nadia.
The hero only thinks he has a choice.
Any choice he makes will lead him to the same woman.
I am both Nargis and Nadia.
This is the alchemy of love.