Skip to main content

And, sazia was born for the first time!

Double slit experiment consists of a measured release of one photon through a giant thick impervious sheet with two slits drilled into it. The photon has to pass through one of the two slits and hit the screen on the other side of the impervious sheet leaving its mark. The paradox here is that instead of leaving a single mark, the single photon left an interference pattern. How could that be? How could a single photon make an interference pattern-it either passes through one slit or another, either which way, it should only leave a single mark on the screen. But the single photon was leaving an interference pattern. The phenomenon baffled scientists for over half a century.

Sazia began by trying to find out which one of the two slits the photon was passing through. But the moment, she found out which one, the interference pattern was no longer there, the photon merely left a single mark on the screen. She tried a multitude of different techniques in widely varying settings and still failed. The moment she figured out the position of photon, she altered something in the system and the interference pattern evaded her. Left alone, the pattern mocked her defiantly, for if she attempted to find out the position of the photon, the capricious system responded with an uninspiring single mark on the screen.

Sazia’s knowledge of Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle was not comforting either. The theory merely stated what she experienced but failed to comfort her. After few failed attempts and annoying results, she left her work stranded in the middle of her laboratory and began reading up on lasers. Lasers were the next thing, lot of research was being done on it, the university granted all the fellows handsome benefits for their work on lasers. It was quite painful for Sazia to leave her work unfinished, the painful despondent feeling clawed at her feet and crawled up to her in her free time. She resentfully immersed herself into the field of lasers with the only hope that she would forget the double slit experiment and her apparatus lying in the dark in her garage.

After over seven months, she struck upon something of value in the laser experiments. Any object can be camouflaged with lasers to an extent that the object becomes unrecognisable. It was then that she opened up her garage and powered her double slit apparatus. After thorough theoretical analysis, she figured that if she could somehow deceive the system by immaculate camouflaging by lasers, she could herself pretend as a photon in the double slit experiment.

Sazia was barely recognisable now. She successfully deceived the system; posing as a proton, she explored quantum physics. Her fascination with the double slit experiment drove her towards the event horizon in a series of inexplicable and bizarre chain of events.

Blankness, now spears of prismatic light patterns gushing into her eyes, tempestuous waves of sharp viscous fluids threw her asunder, fire engulfed her. Between nauseating whiffs of short palpitating breathing, it was in the dark region that she recovered herself like a sailor does his boat after a thunderous storm. Here, Sazia looked about her, to her left was a series of light and dark regions slowly fading away towards the fag end; to her right was the blinding light with a fading pattern of alternative light and dark regions towards her.

For a moment, Sazia could not believe her eyes; she shaded her eyes and looked again as if to gain reassurance from the system. The patterns were there, alternating beautifully between the light and dark regions. From where she stood, the light source was hidden; she was standing in the dark region of the interference pattern. To her left was the blinding centre of the pattern. Two shafts of light superimposed on each other form two slits before transpiring into the pattern in which she stood.

She was acutely aware of a voice ricocheting inside her ears as if she was hearing everything twice; her eyes, everything in her vision multiplied twofold. Something inside her mouth was bothering her, with the tip of her tongue she felt the roof of her mouth and the feeling made her dizzy at once-she felt it twice. Even the thought, the memories, everything was occurring twice. The feeling of terror came upon her; she forced herself outside the camouflage. She felt different, her senses were numb, and she felt light as a feather.

She had lost her memory, she no longer remembered her motives or for that matter her own name. Sazia’s nerves were taut, reflexes relaxed and a wavy conformance to some authority. A force was forming inside her; she was feeling dizzy but more alive with every new convulsion of her stomach. It was her stomach, she felt buoyed, suspended from a twisted intestinal cord. Every single disturbance from the other end made her relax; the vibrations were becoming more intense. Voices, she was hearing a soothing voice and a smooth caress-but who, where, why? Then the voices multiplied to a crescendo, she was drawn closer to one of the slits and a form, a lady like form, a true image of sazia was being dragged by the same invisible intestinal force towards another slit.

Pitch blankness. And, sazia was born for the first time!



Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Where British Steel met the Nubile Cultural Beauty.

Noughties have been a delight. My life began; I might be tempted to say-just as any other city’s did. But the fact is that my life began when angry gentlemen threw spades at each other. In sixteenth century, my rulers at Golconda founded me. Musi, my artery ran through me fresh and clear embellishing me for years. When plague besieged me portentously, my rulers wove one of the most beautiful monuments in India-Charminar, adorned me with the crown. But before the incumbent rulers at Golconda could flourish in the shadows of the great crown and meadows of the fecund land, Nizams defeated them in a battle. What was to come next, I would not have contemplated at that time, but looking back, I realise that the Nizams watered those shrubs of culture that sporadically rose in the rule of my previous rulers. What was to be quoted by Dr. Ambedkar after my inclusion in the united India - as home to all the riches and culture, so good to take upon the capital city status for a united India - grew...
2 comments
Read more

Chowmahalla Palace

It was the morning after my wedding. The dark peachy coloured blinds on my windows were still drawn; the maid with pigtails had retreated after laying down the morning’s breakfast on the thickly lacquered table. Stepping down from the cot, silk thread from my morning dishabille was stuck in the headrest’s broad eagle wings; it threatened to steal away my modesty. Gathering the folds around my knees, I restored propriety before slipping my feet into the glint slippers. The flower vase in the patio shone its tinselled mouthful of white roses that caught sun voluminously. In the garden that night, sitting alone, with the full moon perched in the pool water before me, I recalled the incident and the man who had turned me into a woman. The day before my wedding, a painter had been called. I met him in the courtyard; he was seated on a backless piano chair. Neatly perched on the easel was the drawing board, and from behind it, with tapered quills, greeted a man with sagebrush moustache. Th...
1 comment
Read more

Doused with life

Kiran was only eight years old when the incident occurred. He was walking home tired and hungry, sweeping the tar road with his eighty rupees worth new shoes as he walked on completely exhausted. His school bag, he hung it up his head and lunch box was suspended to his right shoulder. The year was 1984; India had just won the world cup. Kids were playing cricket in every street and by lane of the city. The cycle repair man was pulling the air filled tube through a bucket of water to check for the air leaks, the tall man Kiran’s neighbour stood by the repair man’s side counting the leaks himself, lest he be cheated. ‘If I can reach the end of the incline before the limping man nearing it from the other side of the road, I will get first rank in class this summer’ Kiran challenged himself. He reached the incline that would ease his harrowing walk from the school to home; he descended down the incline with measured relief and took a left turn at the end of it. He left the limping man behi...
Post a Comment
Read more