My name is Ekānsh Jain. Ekānsh means a part, one portion of a greater whole. It is a fitting name for someone who suspects that everything he finds interesting is, in the end, the same thing seen from a different angle.
This is a place for that suspicion. Whenever a thread pulls hard enough, I write one short essay about it: śūnya and infinity, Anekāntavāda and quantum entanglement, dharma and cause, Shiva and the heat-death of stars, the void the Upanishads sat inside and the void a physicist finds at the bottom of an atom. Different vocabularies, I think, for one stubborn truth. I wanted this to be a daily practice. It has turned out to be a practice with gaps, and I would rather say so than pretend.
Anekāntavāda, Anekāntavāda, the old Jain idea that reality is many-sided, and no single viewpoint holds all of it, is the closest thing I have to a method. I would rather hold six partial truths honestly than one whole truth I had to lie to keep. Every essay here is original, and every essay is provisional.
, Ekānsh