I am on a train, with many others — who knows how many! Each person has a different destination and purpose. I have mine. I am on vacation to one of my favourite historical ensembles in India — Hampi.
Through the window glasses, I see the cubical structures lining the streets along the railway track, illuminated by the yellow glow of the sodium vapour lamps. Some of them are home to people who live in this part of the world!
All possible random thoughts about what they might be doing grappled my brain — quiet common thoughts! But I’m tired of being just another ordinary person. Does everyone share this desire to stand out?
I don’t know these roads and buildings. Till today they never existed to me, or at least not their reality. What I see here are the shells and bones out of which the entire universe is created. I wonder how weirdly awesome the concept of probability is, so that while I sit here on this train now, looking at those cubical structures and, feeling great for not living in one of them and being better than those who dwell in them — at least so do I think, they don’t even realise my existence.
”Till today they never existed to me, or at least not their reality. What I see here are the shells and bones out of which the entire universe is created.
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Seeing those dwellings and the people within them gives me an anxious, dubious pleasure, but I can’t fully comprehend that feeling!
How would my existence have shifted if just one of the infinite possibilities in the course of events had changed? Like a train shifting tracks, they might have slightly shifted! But that irreversible shift to another parallel reality would have brought to life another me thence unknown to this me.
What must have been the other possibilities? How many are there? How do the possibilities of occurrences in one’s life meet with another person’s significantly so that they become significant milestones to each other? Will they fall in the same time frame? What happens when two people’s ways part and they become no longer a substantial part of each other’s life?
This universe is all about time and probability!
The art of living is very precious because it is an art that happens, not driven. Dashing through the window and listening to the people sitting/lying in the same compartment as me, I am moving with time on this train. I think this train is a portal to another parallel timeframe of me and many other people riding along today. Sliding from track to track, we might see each other again, but in a different frame.
