F002: The Medical Marvel

ST Notes: After a long time, a new post and that too in the fictional category. The following is an article that was formulated upon request and on the promise of a Domino's pizza. The article was typed but the pizza is yet to be had.

Some may analyse this is as a commentary on our disconnected personality, with others and ourselves and the hope to reverse it. Others will say it to be a subtle remark upon karma and few will see this is as the dark side of enlightenment.
The truth is: It is a Sci-Fi rambling made palatable for the ink.
Certainly not my best attempt but one that is very close to my heart.

(First published in GoSuMag 13. Released 25th April 2014.)

The Medical Marvel


It started one day when I was brushing my teeth. Time seemed to slow down. I noticed a strange sharpness in the way my hand moved. For the first time in my life, I was aware of the fact that my hand was moving.

Dont get me wrong. I am not a paraplegic, nor am I disabled. I was very much capable of moving my arm and every other conceivable body part. But for the first time was AWARE of my hand moving. I not only could acknowledge my hand moving but also FEEL it. It was and still is difficult to explain but it happened. The brilliant, tingling sensation went away as it had come.

The next day, I fell asleep on the couch on my left arm. As I woke up, I realized I must have slept on it for hours because it felt heavy and cold and powerless. As I tried to move it, IT happened again. I could FEEL my arm WAKING up, as if it was a separate entity, yet a part of me. I could FEEL the veins emptying and the warmth returning. I could FEEL the power in my arm, the tone of my muscles and the tension in my sinews. There was a change this time though. IT remained.

The whole week, I marveled my new sense. I called it Appreciation. We can see, smell, touch, taste and hear things but do we really appreciate them? For the first time in human history, I could. I could Appreciate my left arm and through it, the world. Even with my eyes closed, I could Appreciate each physical variable my left arm could 'feel'. The best way I can put it is that I could suddenly very finely resolve the impulses that came from my arm to my cortex. Like my usual senses had been amplified a 100 times. I could feel the temperature gradient over each square inch of my arm, the tension in each muscle fibre, the stresses on my bones and the force of my blood. If I concentrated, I could dissect through my arm, in my head, and understand my physiology and anatomy. The more I concentrated, the better I got and the more volume of my body I could Appreciate. It took 2 weeks for it spread across both my arms, 5 days for my torso, 3 for my legs and 1 for my head. Finally, I could Appreciate myself as a whole and as a million pieces.

It did take a toll on me. I was exhausted rapidly at first and developed a fever. From my new found skill I could gather that it was the price I had to pay. While walking, I could feel my individual fibres contracting, individual muscles. I could feel the build up of metabolites, the change in blood flow, the change in pressure in my lungs, even the motions of my bowels. I knew my body better than anyone. More than that, I could sense the world with a new reverence. Each surface, each blow of the wind brought ecstatic impulses in my mind. It filled my body with light.

Slowly, I made an organization system. I could decrease my sensitivity to a bare minimum or highlight one portion of my body. I had filters through which I could sense one particular stream of information of my body. Be it oxygenation or the molecular concentration of glucose. Every quantifiable information was available.

However, soon I realized that apart from my increased sensory skills, there slowly crept in increased motor skills too. From gross to the fine, with increased details available to me, I could now control my body as finely too.

It was great. I had finally figured it out. I could control my metabolism. Surprisingly, homeostasis is a wasteful practice. As I directed my body, I put up increased insulation, redirecting extra fat exclusively to my skin, burning the rest up into proteins. I contracted a certain group of fibres at a time and randomly changed them to avoid fatigue. This way my stamina tripled but my consumption dropped to 20%. Emotions, stress and exercise were a joke now that I could control even my neurotransmitters. I had voluntary control over everything. Liver, kidney, lungs, glands, muscles and heart. Everything. I took it too far once, heightening my Appreciation by focusing on increasing my I/O impulses using redirected neurotransmitters. My brain started burning up, my vitals going haywire. I imagined with increased capacity, I could handle the cost but it was vicious cycle of exponential proportions. The more I Appreciated, the more I had to take care of my body and its requirements. Before I burned up, I closed my eyes and focused just on my breath. The rapid rhythm and tried slowing it down. It started working and I slowly infused melatonin, growing drowsy and finally sleeping.

People never can understand my condition but it was amusing indeed to me, I was a superhero in myself. I could manage my strength, stamina, longevity of life, fatigue in an invincible way. I could outlive everyone, I could outperform everyone, I could outdo everyone. But I couldn't. This mutation was my boon and my bane. It all started when I started wondering about what was under my skull (using what was under my skull).

You see, there are some properties of receptors that you can overcome only till some time. This one was called tolerance. Once I got used to my heightened sense, it became my baseline. I felt normal. I hadn't felt normal in years. However, I couldn't erase my memories. I remembered the awesomeness and now sorely missed it. Life became depressingly normal. Even though I still retained my Appreciation, it was no longer special. Change is eternal. But once you attain the limits of perception, what then?


I went deeper.


From what I Appreciated, I knew that it was not extra sensorial perception but a mixture of hypersensitive neurons and highly diffused connections. So basically, my brain was much more than normally wired with the different receptors and motor organs of my body. Each area of my brain received, interconnected and sent much more data than normal. But what about my brain? Can I FEEL my brain think up my thoughts, my actions? Could I Appreciate my brain? Could I Appreciate the thing that was Appreciating? Could I merge the physical and psychological aspects of the human mind? Could I analyze the brain, my thoughts, how they were formed, my memories, how they were stored? I went into a trance. I had never concentrated harder on anything else. I had to do it. I had to test my limits or forever be stuck in this hellish prison of a boring static reality. I had to Appreciate not my body but my being. I ended up Appreciating my Appreciation. Now that is an explosion right there. I'm surprised I didn't die. It was probably cause of tolerance that I survived for 5 seconds before flat lining.

The funny thing was that in this whole experience I had almost forgotten that I was a medical student and, though I had been hardly performing my duties, I was on hospital campus 24 hours a day. The first thing I remember after I was resuscitated was her eyes. She was leaning over me, crying, Her tears fell on my face, my lips. That was the most real thing I had felt in months. The amplitude of impulse related to wind velocity didn't matter, the force distribution of various surfaces didn't matter, the pressure dynamics of my left renal artery didn't matter, What mattered was that she was crying. Because of me. It struck me like a thunderbolt. I had to stop.

And I did. All because of her. Her smile was the strongest impulse I needed. Her lips, the only surface that I cared about. Her walk, the only motion worth appreciating. She brought me back.

No, I didnt lose it. I still have it, locked down in the recesses of my mind like cancer, waiting to come back. First it was hard but like every de-addiction program, it slowly became easier. I no longer felt the need to dissect and divulge and distort and discover. I started to experience the world as it came. I wanted cause and effect to affect my fate, not my mind. I still observed but with a chuckle on my lips. I remarked on the subtleties of nature. But there was a time of the day when it all came back to me, when it was an necessary evil.

To keep my brain in the natural rhythm, my brain must sleep or else IT will come back and I would again become absorbed with the details and mechanically go about myself. And sleep is not easy to come once you have Appreciated all physiological processes. Then it was an order, now I wanted it to be a routine, involuntary. So as a quick remedy, I Appreciate my mind every night. Just the right amount. Just a little bit and the last thought always is her smile.

Every night, I die.



What brings me back each morning isn't me, isn't my brain, isn't my mutation, isn't God.


It is her smile.

NF003: October Sky

After a flurry of episodes, starting from Sherlock's new series (the new episode comes out in a few hours) to Game of Thrones S03 to Mythbusters, The Big Bang Theory and finally ending the streak by the movie October Sky, I am drawn that very corner of my mind which dwells upon such thoughts.

October Sky is a biographical account of how a small town boy dreams big, of making rockets and succeeds. Against all odds and resistances, he does succeed. Reminds me of my brother for two reasons: His recent visit and how much he resembled the lead character.

The odd ones, the misfits are the ones who make it big, who push the limits and actually make it. Sounding like Steve Jobs, aint I? But it is true. Not only in movies is the underdog the surprise victor of a challenge. Its the novelty of it which makes it noteworthy. A normal man, climbing a rung of the metaphorical ladder is an expected pattern of growth. It falls within the limits of reality that society defines. It is the weird-os, the eccentrics who surprise everyone with their mere reaching out for that same rung. That is something that people never seem to digest. But that was in the past. Now, the underdog is expected to win. It has become an expected pattern.

The thrill remains.

Moving on, I realise that this is turning out to be a repetitive and lousy writing style of fine. I would have to take your leave till February. The burden of academia (not really) and my extra curricular activities burden me. My time rather. My mind remains free.

Till then, keep your wits sharp. The mind is the only blade that gets sharper on use. Valar morghulis 

NF002: Nightfall and Pitch Black

As I was watching 'Riddick', I remembered the original movie. 'Pitch Black'. I also remembered how the central premise of that movie was based on a short story written by Isaac Asimov called 'Nightfall'.

Nightfall is a critically acclaimed masterpiece by the Grandmaster of Science Fiction himself. It is a classical Asimov story with the core being sci-fi but Asimov explores humanity and how people react to the situation at hand. The brilliant fusion of sci-fi and psychosocialogy started right from Nightfall which he mastered in the Foundation series.

Now that I think of it, it's funny how it appears as a cycle. Science fiction turning into science which affects human behavior giving rise to more sci-fi. Even though it acts as the ultimate praise for science fiction, it raises a few questions.

When did it stop being serendipitous? When did it stop being a new idea or a discovery? Or was it never new? Do all things arise from the past? Like life arising from earlier forms of life?

Reminds me of the Great Conversation. My mentor told me how each author telling his story is not a monologue. It is in fact a conversation involving all the authors that have come before him, who speak through their works and the effect they had on the author in question. It is true indeed. One can easily identify writing styles of various great authors in their successors. An inadvertantly imparted piece of wisdom been passed down generations. Inspiration.

Now let us expand this idea a bit more. Let us count in every experience, every memory the author has. Also, all the factors that built those experiences and memories and the factors that affected those factors and so forth. To just imagine it creates an endless spiderweb of connections. Of relationships. To fully understand this idea, we can safely assume that every small piece of art, fiction and written history was in one way or the other affected by the sum total of humanity. The sum total of all human experiences that have ever existed since the beginning of time!

This opens up a completely different way of looking at things. The concept of cause and effect no longer remains linear. And this is when we are looking at things from the physical perspective.

What if we consider the temporal frame? What if we include time?

Unless you have had a clusterfuck in your head, like a whole new universe been opened in your mind, you don't get the idea.

And here's the best part. I wouldn't be talking about all this had it not been for my predecessors, my experiences and my memories. So actually, even describing human behavior and the evolution of humanity is a part of the human behaviour, is a part of the cycle. Had I not been sufficiently influenced, I wouldn't be describing how I was influenced. A complete different timeline.

And where did I get the idea for alternate timelines from? The Foundation Series by Isaac Asimov.

Food for thought.

Recommendation

The next post is going to be an Isaac Asimov fanfic. I'd recommend the Foundation series by him (in the order that he wrote). Truly a masterpiece of not only science fiction but of sociology too.

NF001: Sab Theek Hojaayega

(ST Notes: pending publication)

One lazy Sunday afternoon, with Diwali celebrations on the way, I was watching Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani on the television. Though the movie was coming to its predictable end, a particular line caught my attention. The ever optimistic, cure for all, the Hail Mary in a counselor's arsenal. A line which crosses all barriers of language, creed, caste and upbringing. A line so simple yet so potent that it has soothed millions of hearts, young and old. A line which has probably changed the course of history countless times. A line without which hope would have long dwindled away in this unfair world. A line filled with the wisdom of generations, being passed on, as intellectual heritage.

'Sab theek hojaayega.'
Everything will be alright.

But did anyone wonder why?

Dont get me wrong. Im an optimist to the core. But I am a cynic too. Just by a superficial gaze, the line appears hollow, redundant. It is without an explanation. I doubt any explain has ever been offered beyond a vague repetition of itself. I doubt a crying child has ever posed a question, rhetoric as it may be, to this statement and gotten a lesson in the mysterious ways of life. The line has always been a balm, a bandage to the gushing wounds life inflicts upon us. It is, without a doubt, effective and true almost every time. That is a fact that we've discovered. That sab sach mein theek ho hi jaata hai. It is an axiomatic truth then. We've established that.

But then sab theek kaise hojaata hai?

How do we indeed are able to sit oh so many years later and recall the obstacles we faced? Reminiscing about all the times we had fallen, without luck or hope and how we managed to scrape by all of it to rise, like a phoenix out of its ashes? (HP7 P2 being telecast on HBO).
Why does the universe, in its mysterious ways, twist fate and make it all okay for a simple human being like me? Doesnt it have to worry about death, suffering, world wars, weapons of mass destruction, Comedy Nights with Kapil? Is it God? I doubt that because religion has nothing to do with the phenomenon of cause and effect else atheists would be bottom feeders in this world. If its not the universe, if its not God, then who is it?

Is it me?

That is what I believe. After a long, intensive thinking session (the brooding phases of teenage), I believe it is us who grow. Grow into a smarter, experienced version of oneself to whom the problems dont seem as big. The situations dont change. The exams dont get easier, the heart breaks dont get simpler, the frustrations dont magically disappear. It is we who change. And the funny thing is that we do so because of the motivation offered by that one line. It creates the hope needed for itself to be true and have its desired effect. We need to hear this self fulfilling prophecy to make it all okay. That is the legacy of this one simple line. We are the ones who become wiser and brush aside our fears to overcome them. It remains with us till the next hurdle, the next level of difficulty life has to offer us. So the next time you feel disheartened, discouraged or depressed, just remember.

'Why do we fall, sir? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.' That was Alfred's way of telling Bruce Wayne what he needed to hear. A simple truth.


'Sab theek hojaayega.'

F001P00: Ouroboros

Preface

Hult knew something was wrong. Though he knew what it was, he did not wish it was true. He triple checked the data in front of him on the computer screen. There was no mistake.

He knew it was true.

As his fingers went numb and sweat rolled down his forehead, a single thought struck his mind like a cold steel blade.

'We are all going to die.'

New Development

Got a long and monotonous period of time in front of me.
Best to start thinking and working, eh?

Work in progress. Watch this space.