The Nature of Our Reality

1 + 1 = 2. 2 * 3 = 6. The Sun rises in the East. Water Molecules are made up of Oxygen and Hydrogen atoms. Science and Math consist mainly of definitive, precise, objective assertions, validated by logic and experimentation. 1 + 1 cannot, in someone's perspective, become 3. And Water Molecules cannot have Helium Atoms in another part of the Universe.

As an engineer, my Universe too, was therefore precise, well-defined and logical, with quantified, measurable truths. Yes or No were the acceptable answers to any question. Just as computing today doesn't require nuanced understanding of digital signals - the signal exists or it doesn't - the world didn't require nuanced understanding and analysis of emotions, body-language, non-verbal signals, positioning, subtle cues and localized mores.

Reality has come a long way since then. I currently am fascinated by the blacks and whites, by the 0s and 1s, by the Yesses and Nos of days-bygone, and I long for their simplicity and logic. While Yes and No simply mark two ends of a broad spectrum of pretty much everything, human language has evolved over the centuries to refer to the infinite possibilities in between.

I imagine that if we were a logical species, two gestures, noises or standard signals would suffice to cover the entire gamut of human communication. Perhaps a high-pitched grunt for a 1 and a low pitched grunt for a 0. We have, however, decided that definitions are limitations. Therefore, we shan't define as long as it isn't absolutely necessary. Ambiguity is the soul of freedom.

The ridiculous world we conjure for ourselves in the process has so many interpretations, it ceases to amuse us. In mathematical parlance, our nuanced freedom-of-opinion entitles us to opinions that aren't simply 0 and 1, but 0.1, 0.2, 0.3 ... 0.9, 1.0. Soon, that won't suffice as there would be sufficient differentiation created between the 0.2s and 0.3s, that it would require the creation of 0.23s, 0.25s and 0.27s.

But it doesn't stop there. So far, it has been easy. Our pursuit of individuality and freedom soon results in the statement: "What does the spectrum even mean?" The spectrum is, after all, just a super-set of all possible responses to a question that is posed to humanity as a whole. But there is one problem: the spectrum can only be defined when the question posed is understood as the same by all in question. If the question can be interpreted differently by N different beings, this would result in N potentially different spectra as potential responses to the question.

And therefore, the ineffectiveness of communication. If we cannot establish a premise, how can we begin a dialogue. Your understanding of God, Religion, Science, Law, Discipline, Freedom, War, Honour, Pride, Wealth and Love are all different from mine. It's astounding that we manage to talk the amount we do.

Or maybe, we're just hedonistic creations dissipating energy by exercising our jaws to produce sounds to no particular effect.

Prasidh, The Savage

I revived this website, and made a $16 payment to write this post. The past year has been a reckless explosion of activity and emotion, and I now realize how difficult it is to write when you aren't allowed the luxury of rolling around in an emotional state, exploring its nuances, diving into its depths... No, entrepreneurship makes that stuff impossible.

So why do I write today? Perhaps the emotional cauldron has finally been brought to a boil, and the contents of the past year will spill if I don't provide for an outlet through words. Bear with me as I unburden myself by telling you about a man with minimal direction and infinite energy - an incredible idiot and a crazy friend, who refuses to grow a day older than 21.

THE SAVAGE ARRIVES

February 2016: I was on my way from Jaipur or Bangalore or one of those places, boarding a plane when I received Karthik's text message: "Dude, my friend has come to Delhi. He needs a place to crash; hope it isn't a problem if he stays in your room a couple of days..." It wasn't a request, as much as a transfer of information.

I didn't have time to respond, as my plane took off. It landed in Delhi rather late, and I reached home at 1 am. I walked to my bedroom door only to find it firmly locked from the inside. Sleepy and annoyed that someone else was sleeping in my room, I banged the door. A few long seconds later, my door was opened by a semi-naked fellow with shaggy hair who asked me, "Who are you?".

That was how I met Prasidh Prasad (henceforth, P2).

FEB - JUNE 2016

P2's visit was supposed to last 2 days. It became 2 weeks... a month... 2 months... and soon P2 was paying rent. In those initial days, we used to work out of my hall: at 10 am, the house would remarkably transform from a place where I lived to a place where we worked.

Even more remarkably, I soon realized that P2 was working with us, on our team. But that's the way of P2: he becomes your teammate long before you can tell. P2's self-discovery began with him working at various startups - Karthik's (then) InstaLively, Saahil's Khetify etc etc. And soon, inspired by a stoner conversation, P2 decided to become an entrepreneur!

P2 RUNS A STARTUP FOR 3 DAYS

Prasidh ran a parantha startup for 72 hours. And then he got bored.

It was based on a brilliant concept: a mobile app with just one button. You push it, you get a parantha delivered at home in 15 minutes. You push it twice, you get two paranthas - so on and so forth. The concept of choice was deftly avoided, thereby empowering the hungry with confusion-free, standardized food.

One problem: who will make the paranthas? Who will deliver them? How will they hear about the startup? Who will code out the app. You will be amazed to know that all these problems were solved within 72 hours. (Following posters were visible all over Delhi's South Extension) But the startup closed the next day, as the founder got bored.

SAVAGE, THE DIRECTOR

P2 eventually found his calling in the world of movies, shortly after closing down his startup. He became an AD (Assistant Director) overnight, and has put in insane hours into the job. He worked 24x7, a few weeks straight - possibly becoming a one-man production house. When he finished one month at the job, we posed him this question: "Macha, what does an Assistant Director do?" P2 then opened Wikipedia and YouTube, to find the answer to that question.

Soon, though, he grew into the job: you guys should follow @prasidh on Instagram for some of the coolest content ever. His misadventures in Bengaluru are expected to start in another 120 minutes.

WHY SAVAGE?

Well, he took a liking to the "Savage" sticker on Instagram and began molding his personality around the term. He is also the most savage party-creature I have ever known, and can easily dance to really bad music until 7 am in the morning.

I started this as a sulky goodbye note, but see what it has become! Prasidh always manages to do this.

Sigh, I'll miss you man.

Being Emperor. On Sunday afternoon.

I'm trying to make sense of the pattern: Pentagons in a circle, leaving a pointed star in negative space. Five such stars, all in a circle, connected by incomplete eights. Chiseled in exquisite detail into monolithic windows. My brain is running short of the juice required to understand the mind of an sixteenth century artisan.

The sun filters through stone, and forms stars on my face. The past makes no noise. Afraid of succumbing to silence, I get up. And rush through the stone archway into the balcony that faces the Eastern garden.

Trumpets! The city is here. Here I stand, on the majestic balcony, flanked by flag-bearers, watched by the ladies in their veiled terraces. And in front of me, the city stands. For they have come to see their king!

"Jahanpannah," I hear, whispered. And someone speaks in an ancient dialect that I understand. The flag bearers advance, and I proceed to - ironically - follow their lead.

The king's elephant, draped in armour and red gold, stands at the base of the stairway. As I look up at the great beast, it falls to its knees.

"Sir," said a voice that broke into my universe.

"Can you step aside? We want to click a photograph."

"Of course," I said, and took off my AR Wear. I looked back at the great monument in awe, the one I built 400 years ago.