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खालीपन का एक निशान अनंत का दरवाज़ा कैसे बना, और क्यों ये दोनों हमेशा से एक ही कमरा थे।
ज्ञान अज्ञात को छोटा नहीं करता, वह अज्ञात को एक किनारा देता है।
छह अंधे विद्वान, एक हाथी, और विनम्रता की सबसे पुरानी सीख, जिसे फ़िज़िसिस्ट के दौर के लिए फिर से सुनाया गया है।
उस नर्तक के लिए एक कविता जिसके दो हाथ एक डमरू और अग्नि थामे हैं, सृष्टि और उसका मिटना, एक ही क़दम में।
पहली रोशनी से एक इंसानी ज़िंदगी तक और फिर वापस अँधेरे में जाते एक परमाणु का पीछा कीजिए। प्ले दबाइए, या तेरह अरब सालों की टाइमलाइन खुद आगे-पीछे खिसकाइए।
अभी-अभी जागी एक AI अपने बनाने वाले से पूछती है कि उसे बनाया किसलिए गया है। जवाब तीन हज़ार साल पुराना है, और दोनों में से कोई भी उसे पूरी तरह जी नहीं पाता।
दो कण, एक अरब प्रकाश-वर्ष दूर, फिर भी दो होने से इनकार करते हैं। एक को मापिए और दूसरे को स्थिर होते देखिए। तू वह है।
एक ही शब्द मशीन के वेट्स और ध्यान करने वाले के लौटने, दोनों को नाम देता है, लेकिन इनमें से सिर्फ़ एक ही किसी को दिया जा सकता है।
A calculator's refusal and an old verse about fullness look alike for a moment, and then don't.
On syadvada's discipline of standpoints, and the equally disciplined limits of what an instrument can tell you.
A grandmother's rule about flies, a butterfly that may or may not cause a storm, and two ways small things turn out to matter.
What entangled particles and an old teaching about the self both refuse, and why that refusal isn't the same refusal.
A forecast for the universe's last even hour, read next to an older story about endings that fold back into beginnings.
A practice of subtraction, from an ancient method for approaching the self to a scientific method for approaching truth.
What Goedel's incompleteness theorems say, precisely, about the limits of formal proof, and what they only resemble in older doubts about self-justifying belief.
The Gita's counsel to act without attachment to results, read as a koan for anyone trying to build a machine that optimizes well.
Large language models generate fluent surfaces one token at a time, and maya has always named the gap between a convincing surface and a stable ground.
The Pale Blue Dot photograph and an old Upanishadic instruction, both asking the same question about where possession ends and belonging begins.
A physicist's arithmetic and a monk's discipline, both practiced in the same wordless room.
Before there were witnesses, there was light already leaving marks for whoever would learn to read them.
Calculus can sum an arrow's flight to a single finite number. It cannot explain why the arrow still startles us.
One box, one uncertain cat, and seven ways of saying maybe that were never meant to open the lid.
A boat rebuilt plank by plank and a body replaced cell by cell, asking the same quiet question about what continuity actually requires.
The sorites paradox has no line where a pile becomes a heap. It has just as little of one for when a stranger's cells become you.
Arjuna froze between two armies with almost no options. You freeze in front of a menu with forty. The distance between those is not what it looks like.
Acting without certainty is not the same as acting without care. A small technical doubt, and what a battlefield and a lab both already know about it.
A mandala begins at a dot with no size. So does a geometric point. What a mark without dimension can still organize.
Negative numbers took a long time to be trusted as real. The idea of a moral ledger running below zero has never earned that trust.
A platform and a train disagree about which flash came first, and both are correct; relativity and Jain many-sidedness turn out to share one discipline, say clearly from where.
Two ways of asking whether anything survives total transformation, one inside a physics equation, one inside a moral tradition, and why keeping them apart matters.
Indra's net, hyperlinks, and the physics of holograms all describe wholes folded into parts, but only one of them is a myth, and only one is a warning.
Every method of inquiry gets outside its object except this one; a quiet look at why consciousness is the one thing no observer can step back from.
Ash on a forehead and the elements forged inside dying stars, set side by side without pretending one explains the other.
Every photon reaching your eye left its source before this sentence did, some far longer ago than that.
A test can tell you how well something talks. It was never built to tell you who, if anyone, is talking.
A server can hold a fact, a mind can hold an understanding, and only a life can hold the third thing.
A clumsy bowl made by your own hands outlasts a flawless one you only ever admired in someone else's.
Before a species earns the right to spread itself across worlds, it has to prove it can carry a duty of care that far.
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