In my book of the English alphabet, A would be for Archimedes. He is sort of like my hero, my role model. I did not know that until a couple of minutes ago before I decided to pen this down.
To begin with, I know two things about Archimedes: The golden crown anecdote and the fact that he was from Syracuse. I think it is good to know less because he would be no role model if I knew about his secret affair with his pet horse or something like that.
Anyway, right now I am all love for him. I love the idea of him. I want to be him.
When I was young, I believed, in fact I knew, that there would be a moment in my life which would be an epiphany, a breakthrough, a path breaking discovery of the all knowing accompanied by this immense clarity and meditative focus. My existence would be a singular static in the pasts and futures of the times and spaces. It would be meaningful and meaningless at the same time, that moment would bring forth a divine unifying energy, and I would be free, free like the way one farts when no one is in the room or the way one dances when no one is looking. The walls of convention broken and the self-limiting beliefs dissolved. ..
.. and I would run on the roads. I dreamt of that as a kid. The narrow road below my building with its golden light and empty souls. I would run naked and there would be phosphenes everywhere as if I have just woken up from deep slumber. I would run, run and shout, “Eureka. Eureka,” and everything would be okay. Pure, liberated and shining.
Archimedes, thank you.