"Fish! Is that true?"

Today, I read an extremely interesting piece of speculative work. It goes something like this - imagine that there's this Amazonian electric fish, that is very intelligent, in fact as intelligent and sophisticated as you or I. However it has the special ability to perceive electric fields. It has this sense in addition to others such as taste, sight and so forth. Now, how does it communicate to us the way it perceives the world around it through the electric eyes? (pun unintended.)

If I were a superscientist from the future, I can study the entire process of the fish sensing the electric data, right from the sensors on its skin to the neural pathways in its brain.
I can map out the entire flow diagram and say, "Hey fish, this is what's going on in your brain."
The fish says, "Sure, that's what's going on. But I also feel electric field. Where's the feeling in that diagram?"
"What's that", I ask.
"That's part of the actual, ineffable experience of the field, which I can never seem to convey to you because you're totally field-blind."

We can study the neurophysiology of this fish and figure out how the electric organs on the sides of the body transduce electrical current, how this information is conveyed to the brain, what part of the brain analyzes this information and how the fish uses this information to dodge predators and so on. Fine, but we'll never know what it feels like to sense electricity. For us, it will always remain a third-person account.

For centuries, philosophers have assumed that this gap between brain and mind poses a deep epistemological problem - a barrier that simply cannot be crossed. Modern day devices such as the transcranial magnetic stimulator - an extremely powerful, fluctuating magnet that activates neural tissue with some degree of precision can be used to try out such experiments. People who have been blind from birth, and whose visual pathways in the brain haven't degenerated have reportedly perceived light through this device, even though their eyes are completely insensitive to brightness.

Consider now another possibility. Suppose there was some elaborate method by which the brain of the fish was directly linked to a strategic part of our brains, would we be able to perceive electricity? This procedure is theoretically possible. What then of the mind-body barrier that the philosophers were talking about?

Pink Floyd: High Hopes

Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young
In a world of magnets and miracles
Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary
The ringing of the division bell had begun
Along the long road and on down the causeway
Do they still meet there by the cut
There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps
Running before time took our dreams away
Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground
To a life consumed by slow decay

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
With friends surrounded
The nights of wonder

Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side
Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again
Dragged by the force of some inner tide
At a higher altitude with flag unfurled
We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world

****

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
There's a hunger still unsatisfied
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon
Though down this road we've been so many times

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
The taste was sweeter
The nights of wonder
With friends surrounded
The dawn mist glowing
The water flowing
The endless river
For ever and ever.

The sixth 'dogma'

Now when I look back, though my semester wasn't one of the greatest, it is still a vivid recollection. It started off with a bang, what with my girlfriend and I going to movies bunking classes! And then, getting totally involved in my numerous projects, of which one of them being academic, the others being short term goals like finishing that next calvin and hobbes book! Then the trip to Chennai, for that national conference. This experience brought to me a whole world of academicians and their seriousness in their respective fields. Hmm... now coming to the bad, and the ugly parts of the last few months. The highlights must be placed on the terrible academics and the worse-still exams themselves, and not to speak, the spat with my girl. But as they say, all's fine when all's done. I happened to find myself with a job in hand. I got back my time and space, which I hadn'd had during my 'project days'. Now there's some time for breathing, not that I was stressed for time earlier, but yes, I was stressed about other things. But most importantly, i got my love, my life back. My hope, my feelings, my emotions... I got my 'self' back. This must be what they call "the armyman coming home" feeling. I am myself again. I can give, emote, laugh, feel and care for myself and my girl again. but look at the vagueries of life, all this I feel when she just returned back to Australia. That the sad thing though. Nevertheless, the number '6' has always had its effects on me ever since I learned that it is my numerological number (though I don't believe in stuff like that). Semester 6 has come and gone, my life had gone but has come back.

Torn Love

I fell in love with a precious stone,
Shared his sparkle and his ground.
Leapt with him on that wave we see,
And beckoned the cosmic black.

The bank was then, still and withdrawn,
And a silent river used to be torn upstream,
I lay beside my overwhelming love,
Unmoved by the shadowy goliath.

I watched one and then another stone pass,
Writhing and tussling the silent river
I bid adieu to such friends and foe,
As I lay beside my overwhelming love.

Soon the colors of the leaves changed.
They died and fell apart, as I gauged
The storm arrived and the sea fell prey.
And the lightning struck, making me a prey.

He watched me go, to the farthest land.
Where his eyes couldn’t sense his pursuit.
It was then he shouted loud, for no avail
He stretched to shoulder my pain, much in vain.

I emerged to pierce the oblivion,
To break- free from the demon’s dance.
It was an intense struggle against fate.
And all that I had seen in the past.

The nights now spoke louder than the days.
The fort of strength shattered across.
And I watched him go to the farthest land.
My faith and soul collapsed.

I bit the dust and tumbled down every rise,
I could only hang on to the memoirs of the spring.
When he had echoed the refrain of eternal love,
When his touch shielded the fragile sill.

How did the seasons change, so quick?
while I was raising a lovely castle at the edge.
I had pinned hopes and adorned it with life.
And I had pleaded him to be a part of it.


I lost a world, I blame the gem.
But the gem was after all, only a stone
He shared a magical stride with me.
And vanished ‘ere I could disagree.

When I'm gone

The murmur of the blooming bud,
Voices no silence when I leave.
The rains don’t stop.
No kitten cries, when I leave.

The land’s warm, reserves aplenty,
No love is scarce when I leave,
Amidst a tear and a half,
They say good bye when I leave.

The stream of thoughts, a bright blue,
Will soon seep down, once I leave.
They will caress what they have got
Once I leave

Then they will detect, a poster or two
Which says – ‘ I miss you’, once I leave
They will see another and notice a void
Once I leave.

Past that, they would accelerate their life
And gear it up, after I leave.
They would linger engaged, hear no song
After I leave.

Mono-sight’s a boon, while they bond
The oaths don’t matter after I leave.
Glory of their own is enough to spice it up
After I leave.

The prospects at the far end,
The celebrated past, triggers them, after I leave
They look baffled at the distant horizon,
And wonder whether they are bereaved.

They wander about, panic struck,
Wild about the soaring pitch.
They find my absence odd
And what they did wrong, long after.

Then they pretend that they see nothing absurd,
And claim life to be a roller coaster,
They agonize their present, offend the long-gone.
And reflect what they did wrong, long after I’m gone.

They play a game and watch the moon,
And parade that night, their triumph too soon.
While their heart thumps, and misses that beat.
Wishing profusely to be with the forlorn.

The crave cant wait, nor the lonesome sky
They want me back, long after I’m gone
The story does not end until I’m found.
Long After I’m gone.