Bhadrapada K 12, 1938
“A kid, don’t ask ‘how old?’, was constantly crying. His shrill rising voice slowly spread around the house like a pressurized gas leak. His mother, who was in kitchen busy preparing some food item, took quick sniffs in order to determine what out of ordinary was happening, until the high pitched noise of her son crying, suffocated her as if she forcibly inhaled a poisonous gas. She ran out in the hall to see her kid throwing tantrums. He was simply sitting there banging a toy car on the floor in addition to crying. With one look anyone can guess that he is trying to get attention, probably wants a new toy. But it took a mother’s eye to see the truth, he wanted to make the car fly, vertically upwards. What he didn’t understood then was, that’s not how cars work.
This is a routine. No matter how many toys that kid gets everyday, being the most adored one on in locality for some reason, none would stay intact till the end of the day. Naughty kid? undisciplined one? No, his imagination was so vivid that none of the toys could match his expectation. Marble ball doesn’t burst into flames when pressed, hammer won’t break the curtain fabric, ray’s of light won’t bend around the big toys that you throw in mid air in its way. ‘Stupid’ is one word to describe such a person and another is a person who want’s to play by his own rules.
Getting back to the story, “Make your own rules” she said smiling at him. The kid stopped crying and gazed at his mother. It was first time he was seeing a different expression on her face than usual. The mother, picked the kid, took him outside and placed him in front of a big lump of clay. “Build, whatever you want to play with.” she said teaching him how to mold objects out of clay. The kid, for the first time, had a big smile on his face seeing her mother turn a clay lump into shape of star. It was not the star that interested him but the ability the clay had to shape into anything. Quickly he extended his arm to grab a piece of clay and…Magic!
Years later the same hand recieved the most prestigious award, for being recognized worldwide as the best clay artist ever lived. Following this accomplishment he wanted to make something big, very big, very-very big. After that award ceremony that artist disappeared. Not even a word about his whereabouts to his friend or family. It was only after many decades that he decided to resurface when his once youthful face was all wrinkled up.
In a middle of a forest of an underdeveloped country is where he spent more than half of the life he had lived so far, doing something not known to the world. The artist though disappeared, was not forgotten. At the day of big reveal all eyes around the world were set on their Televisions watching the live broadcast of the big reveal of his masterpiece. In a huge crater formed of a comet strike centuries ago, he had build a big spherical dome with camouflaging curtains all around. It was a bit surprising that satellites didn’t pick on an object this big, big enough to be visible from the moon. Around 10 minutes prior midnight of one purposefully chosen day, the old artist stood in front of a ribbon that held all the curtains up around the dome. It was his 80th birthday, this was to be a gift he wanted to give to the world so that dropped jaws and widely opened eyes with astonishment and amazed looks of all the people would be the gift to him.
Exactly at the stroke of midnight (local time) he ripped the ribbon at one point with his own hands and let the silk curtains slide, revealing the dome underneath. The expressions on the faces of the people around were just as he expected. Even with a crowd, that could fill a football ground, present there, the silence made even the night bugs in the forest audible. All the people were puzzled, confused as an what they were looking at. First they thought it was a mirror, then they thought it was a digital screen displaying the weirdest picture, but as closer people got and time that passed for the image to sink it, they realized that it was the real deal.
The greatest artist ever lived, after decades spent on his masterpiece, had brought the sky on the Earth. He created a complete universe inside a hollow transparent sphere. The more people looked at it, less they believed in what they were looking at. Every person whose eyes were set on that sphere, they simply sat there still, looking at this Marvel for hours, without blinking.
As night passed and sun was on the horizon more and more questions started rising in the great minds around the world with one question at the top of the queue, “How can a person do something that most of us believed that only god could do if he even exists?” A ‘self sustaining universe’, here on Earth.
Next day was very busy, the sphere was under a lock down and most powerful microscopes were called for studying this piece of art closely. Top scientist were asked for logical explanations. TV shows, news papers, radio broadcasts all were filled with local scientists giving their own theories. Engineers were busy designing devices to study the sphere closely. Artists were busy creating their artwork representing this marvel. Politicians were busy rallying the streets including the name of the artist in their speeches. Rich people were booking flight to visit this remote place to see this modern wonder themselves while the empty pocket ones continued to stare at their Television screens.
While all the world had their attention towards the creation, only one man thought of the creator. A local guy who used to bring food for the artist. “If you don’t know how he has done it, why not just ask him?” he said to himself while chuckling, as no one else thought about it. He then went looking for the old artist, after a few minutes of search he found him at the bank of a small local river. Happy, he should have been to finally find the great old artist, but the scene was grim. The old artist was lying on his stomach with arms wide stretched. A note pad in his left hand with scribbled words ‘…and your time starts now.’ and an ink pen in his right hand which was soaked wet in water. The ink that leaked out from the pen made a single distinct line on the clear stream of water.
Back at the sphere more lenses were added to zoom in and see more detailed objects inside. The deeper they went, more wonders they came across. First they saw star clusters, a little closer they saw something that would be later termed as Milky way. A little closer they saw something that would be later termed as the Solar System. A little closer they saw a fire ball that later would be termed as the Sun. Going offset they saw planets which would later be termed as Mercury, Venus, Earth… Getting closer on to the planet most appealing, Earth they saw blue, with a piece of land, though not apparent, but locally known as India. Then zooming as close as they can, they saw a building with an open window. Inside there was a guy typing this entire story on his WordPress blog at that very moment.
Suddenly that guy stopped typing and then turned to look outside the window, up above in the sky, back at the watchers from the beyond. He smiled and waved his right hand to acknowledge their presence. “
This is the modern mythological tale (my version) of how our universe was created and answer to what lies beyond it.
This story is not the truth or even if it is, I have no way to verify it. Hence the title Goid. When you don’t know the actually answer to a question, replace it with a story that explains it, usually that includes god. That should keep the flame of curiosity burning in your heart until you find the correct answer. Goid is a self-made term, a combination of God+Void.
Goid is any piece of information in form of a story that includes the super-power god used to fill the voids of knowledge in our brain.