Lots of thoughts, lots of ideas
Many possibilities, but of the single mind
Idea of a Thought of a thought,
Thought of an idea behind a thought
Mind of the brain, or brain of the mind
Not clear to the contemplating self
Cyclic it is, the rythm of its birth
Starts at the End and Ends at the start
Examples are plenty, around and inside
Who will look though, breaking their shell?
From an egg comes a hen and from a hen comes an egg
From a seed comes a tree and from the tree comes a seed
From a father comes a son and from a son comes a father
From the sleep we awake and from the wake we sleep
The roles are paradoxical, but not the actors
The roles themselves exist to whom though?
Does a seed exist to a tree or a tree to a seed?
The perplexing compound ideas are product of
May be the many wrinkeles of brain 🧠
But what would rescue the self at the gate of death?
Whose other side, has as many definitions as there are wrinkles in many brains
To atleast attempt to think of death, can it happen at all?
To think of atleast a state of sleep, wakes us up
But to be awake, we must have slept
Inbetween, what happens? Where does the thought go?
Does it exist, but not for “us” or does it not exist at all?
Is the self, the brain? Or the brain a part of self?
Which ever is the case, what ever is the confusion
Only after we answer a question of living, can we answer the question of death
In dying to know what it means to live, one might live to know what it means to die.
PhD (Quantum Physics), M.Sc. (IIT Madras), B.Tech. (LNMIIT).
Bridging the depths of Science and the wisdom of the Vedas
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