To Fit In or not to Fit In?

"Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do."

Remember this quote? It's by a person not many know of (not Steve Jobs), used in an Apple commercial. How do you view yourself when you read this? A misfit, probably? Everyone does. We can make our brain believe anything that suits us using any given evidence. Ironically, though, while people might like seeing themselves as someone different, they aren't as accepting of someone who doesn't fit in.

And so I thought - why is 'not fitting in' glorified so much? Why do we consider a different, misfit character to be more likely to change the world? Is it in our ability to divide people like this, judge what makes them a misfit?

By saying that you should be able to alter the course of history by virtue of your rebelliousness, are we implying that society as a whole always holds the wrong opinion? That the general, public opinion is never to be trusted and that humanity, overall, needs lots to work on?

Or is it a way to say that these 'rebels', who make it past the trying the phase of being a misfit, of being called a nerd, or discriminated against and heavily discouraged, or not taken care for, have learnt to take risks, stand up against society, and thus this lack of fear qualifies them to take up challenges and discover the unknown?

Isn't fitting in better if, through that road, you can change societal opinion to what's actually right? Isn't it better to try to fit in, at least, so the inevitable, immense stupidity that plagues our species is resolved? Seems scary but essential to me, in this world of flat-earthers and climate change deniers.

I believe, and not just in this case, that labels don't really matter. It doesn't matter whether you fit in or you don't or you are in some kind of societal purgatory. Do what you want to, what you're passionate about and what your heart tells you to. The universe doesn't put a label on you, it's affected by your actions. Focus on them instead of thinking what to call yourself.

(Ignoring the fact that, well, I'm doing the exact opposite by writing this and thinking of labels.)

Thoughts of (In)significance

Everything about my day until then had been extremely normal - which is to say I studied calculus until about 1:00 p.m. and left for my Chemistry class thereafter. The car I'm in has to traverse two long flyovers and a long, motivation-for-breaking-rules traffic signal.

I've always felt differently about flyovers and being closer to the sky. In Delhi, a city devoid of skyscrapers or other structures obscuring the sky, being on a flyover is, in a way, like floating in the sky. You can imagine cruising through the clouds if you look up and try to ignore other distracting elements such as streetlights and neon signboards.

The road is even better on the way to Rohtak or any other city whose path weaves through the countryside. The wide roads - surrounded on both sides by vast stretches of grass spotted here and there by a few brick kilns or Haryana's characteristic roadside dhabas - lift you up from the earth somehow. Especially at night, when if you're lucky a few stars come out from hiding, the sky feels similar to a huge ball ensconcing you, giving you a new, different home. The earth fades away, in a way, and the enlarged proportions of the sky make it easier to imagine all the fascinating stuff out there, light years away.

Flyovers are what I have to make do with, living in the city. On the way, my eyes are nearly always glued to the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of the obscured, in search of some form of revelation.

On those days when Delhi faces unpredictable rains, water makes everything a shade brighter than it was before - makes you feel as if your eyes have strengthened senses with extraordinary colour perception. The thing I most treasure about the aftermath of the rains, however, is the cloud-filled sky which follows, sometimes a bright shade of purple from all the raindrops playing with light. At times, I have to look twice to ensure the enormous, dense clouds aren't mountains - an illusion I'm in love with.

The sky saw rain just before I left for my Chemistry class. When we had climbed those exhilarating few metres, a majestic view of the clouds dominated my sight. My eyes were addicted.

Suddenly, I felt extremely tiny. Insignificant, yet significant. Like I mentioned, as the sky's proportions grow larger in your sight, your imagination expands to include a wider perspective of the universe. Naturally, with each extension in the boundaries of the universe and my mind, I grew smaller and smaller in comparison, to slowly and eventually realise how there's something big out there - bigger than all of us. As an afterthought, the shattering loneliness of humanity came into view.

It's difficult to transform to words - a sort of emotion where you know and can feel the billions of events taking place at once from billions of varying perspectives. The complexity belittles you, your now-ironic musings, and yet, I've never enjoyed anything more.

If the sky at that moment wanted to say anything at all, it's that people don't really matter. Whether you're different or not makes absolutely no difference. Your actions, however, enter this immense story and go down in history - even the littlest of them.

Does this make anyone change how they do things or the stuff they love? Not me. In this never-ending kaleidoscope we're all part of, a sudden, enjoyable thought or a drawing burst of passion finds me fun amidst all the insignificance.

For if we ourselves don't matter, why would us realising this very fact do?

Lost Identity

'One, two, three...'
The night sky glanced at its reflection
In the eyes wide open with curiosity -
Stars glittering with chaotic anticipation
Inviting thought, creating explorers.
The mind waited for question-filled dreams
Embraced the future, flew along with the breeze.
Who am I? The heart, it said
Wanderer, explorer, a friend of the skies!

The body grew longer while thought, it shrunk
With every answer discovered, with every answer accepted.
Stars slowly going out, one by one
Yet some glinted still, arms drawn, calling.
Who am I? The mind, it sought once again
A grain of sand, trying to leave a mark.

As slowly grew knowledge and the mind was satiated
Steadily started shrinking the confines of wandering thought.
Questions were asked, lesser than before
For what the mind had received, it also digested.
Curiosity was bringing on its own end.
Who am I? The melancholy heart, it ventured
All-knowing, searching for lost mystery
Now deep within the crowd, trodden upon.

The stars which once shaped the mystery-treasuring mind
Were betrayed, their own world wielding the smith's tools
Shaping boundless thought to limiting frames
Killing, murdering, though not dealing with death.
Who am I? The mind suspected, anxious, withdrawn
Death in a live body
Once bonded with stars
Now groping for identity.

In Conversation With: The Universe

Does it matter that I'm writing this?

Hearing you is a substantial problem, given you are a minute dot in a 13.8 billion light years-wide sea of dots (me!). A speck in space, and a speck in time. Your whole lifetime is less than a millisecond in the calendar of my life. Still, does it matter that you're writing this? Maybe.

What lies beyond you?

Some questions are best left unanswered. Parallel universes? Good guess. Empty space? But isn't that SOMETHING? Nothing but me? It'd be interesting if I end all the way at infinity. All of this at once? Unfathomably mind-bogglingly fascinating!

What is life, exactly?

A tool to perceive me with, to convert the chaotic combination of waves and particles I am to a more orderly state - thought, even at its most basic level. Through your mind, I come into existence. The existence of your mind requires, as a prerequisite, my existence. How consciousness works remains a mystery... to you.

Why are you as you are?

If I wasn't as I am, there is a chance you won't be here to think about this. I am as I am because you are thinking of me. Sometimes I wonder if the laws of physics evolved over time to adapt to the best circumstances, a situation you humans might compare to the evolution of life on the Earth. Why am I as I am? Why do I descend into disorder? Well, answer this - how can you be sure this is the only form of me which exists? Food for thought: maybe I exist in all possible forms, you are merely part of one.

Why is everything so perfect? Did everything conspire to make us exist?

What you see as perfect may only seem perfect to you while it may not be so in reality - rendering you incapable of imagining a state of absolute perfection. The fact that life exists may lie somewhere in between on the scale of perfection. Imagine my other forms, maybe they're real.

What's with all the cryptic answers and the mystery?

If not for all these vague answers and a strong and impending sense of mystery, would you have thought of me? To make you think, it is impossible that I truly reveal myself. If not for this curious little feeling inside you, you wouldn't be talking to me right now.

Where am I and how fast am I going?

Choose one, or it'll be the end.

What happens at the end?

A new beginning.

Tokyo.

Expectations were high with my first trip abroad - spending 16 years of my life in the capital city of India with only occasional summer trips to the mountains gave birth to a certain naive fascination with the land the people of a different country. Fascination, brought on by thought which lacked experience.

When I scored a chance to visit Japan for a week on a science-oriented trip, it was something my mind couldn't initially accept, owing to how sudden the announcement was.

On landing in Tokyo, I expected to see a city entirely different from where I reside, expected to see a marked difference. The first lurch to reality arrived when I realized that the air or the sky wasn't much different - a thought which might seem strange or laughable to someone with frequent foreign trips on their list. This is something my mind conjured out of fascination. We were on the outskirts of Tokyo, terrain mostly spotted by greenery-covered hills and then more green to charm your eyes.

As the hills slowly flattened, transforming the green to glistens of metal followed by buildings growing larger and larger to skyscrapers undistinguishable from our line of sight, I just started to realize what I would be experiencing for the next few days - the essence of Tokyo, a mix of the latest technological innovations and age-old culture, many times conservative.

Tokyo is a city where you can find temples and ninja training signboards, but Tokyo is also a city with keen museums and insights into artificial intelligence, space exploration and high-speed transportation. It is astonishing how most of the people there are unable to speak English and communicate properly with tourists, yet the city continues to grow rapidly because of the simple, amazing revelation that it stands on the crossroads of technology and culture, of science and the humanities.

A model of the Michelson-Morley experiment!

The Asakusa Temple, oldest in Tokyo

You'll walk into streets with people who look down upon loud behaviour (a discomfort sometimes curbing freedom). The next day, you'll discover a street enclosed by skyscrapers covered by metres-tall Manga posters, a street which bars traffic every afternoon and transforms into a paradise for any fan of Japanese pop culture (the place is Akihabara - one of the most alive places I have ever been to).

                  

A building at Akihabara

When a whole country is obsessed with Manga

All of this makes Tokyo a city which can constantly surprise you, creating in your mind a new perception of it even if you visit it multiple times. For someone visiting a different part of the Earth for the first time, Tokyo is a city as exhilarating as change, as setting foot into a new home.

A Matter of Scale

Most of human thought, opinions and analogies are based on perception - our brain weaves seemingly chaotic strands of waves or particles into the fabric of an image. When we call atoms 'small' or the stars 'huge', we define them relative to us, according to our perception. And so the magnitude of our explorations into the deep mysteries of nature depends largely on how easily we can access the 'large' or the 'small' - new and hidden and unknown orders of magnitude.

I was on a plane from New Delhi to Ahmedabad looking at the earth from a height of 35,000 ft. At such a height, roads are comparable to the hidden neurons of the brain and the earth transforms into a sea of green, brown and blue - in short, our perception shifts to include a new definition of the scale of everyday objects. With the earth transformed before my eyes, I thought of time as scalable - as it flows on, its 'magnitude increases' (not a scientific analogy). That is the moment when interesting implications regarding humanity were born.

From the very beginning, humans have looked up to the sky. A little more than a century ago, we finally realised our dream of flying - a way to access the skies. We advanced to conquering the stratosphere a few years later and started looking higher still - towards the moon. As time went on, as its 'magnitude' increased, so did our access to the skies. We flew higher and higher up.

We go on in time and go up into the sky. The human thirst for exploration is about wandering through matter at a huge or a tiny scale. And as we go deeper and deeper, our connection with the earth undergoes a radical change - that of a widened perspective.

We widen our perspective as we go up into the sky and go on in time. Widen our perspective to include new, counterintuitive possibilities, understand that the earth becomes smaller and smaller until, finally, it is a pale blue dot. Realise that the earth, something we thought of as inexplicably large, (as Carl Sagan quotes) is nothing but a grain of sand on the cosmic shore. The perception of the relative order of magnitude of the earth shifts to a more insignificant location.

Just as we start viewing our home as more and more insignificant as we advance into the skies, the earth becomes but a speck in all the knowledge of the universe we gather as we advance in science and go on in time. We are transformed into a species of the Universe, while enveloped in this tragic abode we call the Earth.

Things You Can't See

When I hold up my hand in front of me - cold, pale, still as a mind without imagination, do you see what I see? I'm not talking about the lines which seem to branch with every passing day and foretell the story of the next. Nor am I talking about the occasional moving blood vessel or ink stains scattered across.

If you go deeper into the maze, unraveling every passing mystery as you journey deeper and deeper inside, you will discover that true seeing is a journey inside - into the depths of this unknown world.

I do not perceive things at rest - my apparently still hand isn't so in my eyes. It is quivering with life - no, not the life defined by enzymes moving to and fro. I am on a stage deeper still - face to face with atoms.

What you might see as stillness isn't stillness at all. Millions of particles are constantly moving around obeying a beautiful set of rules which want to be discovered yet leave behind trails of uncertainty, while hinting at breaking those very rules again and again. I see things moving around which prevent my hand from collapsing into something invisible to the naked eye, things which channel an inner life beating through them like a force.

When I see my hand, I see all of nature, all of the universe, reflected in it. For in my hand, lies the answer. In my hand, lies the great imperative that exists as long as the universe does - science.

Science is nothing but a language to describe something you can't say through mere words - they aren't enough to talk to this universe and know what lies at the heart of it. Isn't it curious that when, searching for the truth, you find a proof for why the whole truth cannot be uncovered? Uncertainty - you try to know one thing and end up sacrificing another. All of this world, wrapped up in a choice.

What is even more fascinating is that this truth could transform at any instant of time. When you embark on this search, you never know whether what you uncover is true or not, because when you discover the detail with which everything has been mysteriously fashioned, it transforms into an illusion - like a still hand. Challenges, mystery, and at the end - who knows?

For at the close, it is the things that elude you, that you can't see, that make you see truly.

(un)real

My eyes are open
My mind disoriented
By the pounding of a thousand spears.

I close my eyes,
See too clearly, seemingly true.
A deep, scrubby ocean weaving apart
Branching, revealing emptiness.
How is it, with eyes closed
I begin to see surprisingly more?
The ethereal is real
The real now a dream.

My eyes open once more -
Too ignorant to harken
To the raging war.
The two personalities
Transforming to water, attempting to wash out
The battle which is their offspring,
Although entirely in the mind
More powerful than verity.