Archive for creation

Programmable Matter

Posted in Alternative Energy, Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on September 15, 2012 by javedbabar

Everything was possible with the 3D printer. AMP co.’s prototype had so far produced another printer, a worm, a baby girl, and a 4D crab, and a variety of holy objects including Moses’s Tablets of Law, Buddha’s begging bowl, Siva’s drum and Thor’s hammer, though they couldn’t be sure if these holy objects could be equated with the original items. At best they were period copies, and at worst, accurate reproductions.

They were thinking of how to fabricate the original mythic elements of Creation – often expressed as water and clay – and ultimately, the dot of pure potential from which the universe evolved.

Alfred said, “This printer is more versatile than I thought. We have to be careful how we use it. It’s taken fourteen billion years for us to reach this point of creation.” He stopped and thought for a moment in his habitual fashion, staring at the cogs and levers of the large photocopier sized machine. Then he said, “Recreation.”

They both remained silent. They glanced around the workshop in which so much had happened since they’d met by chance and begun working together. The Bible says that God created the world in a week. It had taken them three weeks to reach the point of recreating it.

Alfred said, “I don’t think we should go too far. We shouldn’t test the limits yet. Who knows what might happen.”

Sami nodded. “You said that you wanted to monetize your invention. Why don’t we focus on that? Let’s see how we can apply what we’ve learnt to commercial purposes.”

“That’s the hardest part! How to benefit from your own work?”

“I’ve had a thought,” said Sami. “The problem with stuff – all stuff – is obsolescence. Whatever the item, it still ends up in landfill, or is recycled eventually. The first is totally wasteful, but the second isn’t much better. The amount of energy required to collect, sort, process, redesign, remanufacture, and redistribute is huge. If we could…”

Alfred nodded along enthusiastically and then interrupted. “Use fluid particles to make flexible matter. We have found a way of making anything we want; we just need the right materials and data. But all things are made of the same material – atoms! The only difference is how they are put together. If we can retain the energy inherent in an object, stored in the form of materials, we just need to change the data. We can reprogram the object to become something else! I was wrong before when I said we can’t create gold. We can create anything. That’s what the ancient alchemists were saying.”

Sami was delighted by this chain of thoughts. He developed the idea further, saying that they only needed to fabricate the object once with the 3D printer, but could encode it with multiple possibilities. Then the owner could decide which item he needed, and activate accordingly.

After a month of experiments they had it – a bed that becomes a chair, then a desk, then a table, and then a bed again. It was perfect for students living in studios. Their next model was a backpack that became a sunlounger, then a sailboat, then a paraglider.

“We should probably build a stretcher option into that model,” said Alfred. “We can do many things, but we can’t program the weather or remove human error.”

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Holy Things

Posted in Alternative Energy, Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 14, 2012 by javedbabar

AMP co. had been testing their prototype 3D printer for two weeks, and fabricated another 3D printer, a six inch worm, a baby girl, and a 4D pink crab, but they weren’t sure whether the latter’s strange movements were due to continual flux between states of being, or its natural erratic motion; was it alternating between living and dying, or just picking its way about? The baby girl – who was now named Abby – was unconcerned by their chrono-spatial conundrum. She waved her arms about and giggled.

Sami found himself staring at the cogs and levers of the 3D printer. This was usually something that Alfred did when deep in thought.

After a while Sami said, “If we use the fourth dimension, we can make ancient things. We could make creatures that we only see as fossils now – prehistoric fish and dinosaurs. We could also recreate evidence of historical events, or of unsolved crimes.” He stared at the machine some more, and added, “We could make historical artifacts, like the swords and shields of great warriors, or kings’ crowns.”

Sami worked as an assistant to retired holy man, Guru Baba, of whom he was very fond. He turned to Alfred with a big smile. “We could even make holy things.”

“Like what? You mean old Bibles and golden Buddhas?”

“I mean real holy things. Objects that belonged to Masters – like Moses’ Tablets of Law, Jesus’s cross, and Buddha’s bowl.”

“We’d have to know exactly what they looked like; I doubt there are accurate depictions.” Alfred’s face was contorted. He wanted to be positive, but couldn’t.

Sami said that he’d be back in a few minutes. He went to the village’s community centre – known as the Transparent Temple – and took a book from the library. Then he returned to AMP co.

“Guru Baba showed me this book,” said Sami. “The illustrations are based upon exhaustive research.” He flicked through the themed sections. “Ok… Judaism… look, there’s the Tablets. We’ll need powdered rock… Christianity… here’s the cross; that would be too big to produce though, we’d have to fabricate it in sections… okay, here’s the grail, just some metal powder… Buddhism, here’s Buddha’s begging bowl, we need sawdust.” He looked up from the book. “Such simple objects. How did religion get so complicated?”

Alfred said, “Let me take a look.” He flicked through some other sections. “Look… we can make Siva’s drum… and Osiris’s crook… and Thor’s hammer. If these pictures are accurate, we’re really on to something.”

Alfred’s interest lay in mythology rather than religion. He felt that the basic stories myths encompassed – those of creation, fertility and heroes – were the basis of all religions.

He looked up some creation myths. “Look Sami, look at this. This is the first water… This is the first clay… and this is the point of Creation from which all things emerged.”

They both were silent, thinking how to create the dot.

Then Alfred smiled and said, “Maybe we’ve also overcomplicated matters. Shall I get my old dot-matrix printer?”

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Fourth Dimension

Posted in Alternative Energy, Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 13, 2012 by javedbabar

AMP co.’s experiments were progressing. Alfred’s innovative 3D printer had so far fabricated another 3D printer, a worm, and a baby. With the right data and ingredients – chemical or organic – it could produce almost anything. The process was now proven.

“What do we do now?” said Sami, his regular helper. “Shall we start making and selling stuff?”

Alfred said, “People are bored of buying stuff here, my friend, but I would like to monetize my invention. We must do something original. You know that so many inventors have gone mad or gone broke, leaving others to benefit from their work. Another thing to watch for is corporations. They try to buy your idea for peanuts, and if that fails they launch their own version, differing in a few details, and if you complain they launch a battery of expensive lawyers at you, and sometimes send crooked cops and heavies.”

Sami didn’t like the sound of any of that. “What should we do then? Should we sell basic versions of the printer for people to use at home? They could make spare parts for domestic items, and maybe copy precious objects; they could replicate seeds, and make their own medicines and cosmetics.”

“They could certainly do that,” said Alfred.

“You could keep the full-scale printer here, and charge a premium for complex jobs. That way you could also safeguard the technology.”

Alfred stared hard at the printer’s levers and cogs, as he often did when mulling over an issue. He said, “Sami, I’m enjoying working with you. You are an asset to AMP co. How would you like to work full time here, helping me with development of the 3D printer?”

It was an unexpected offer. Sami’s day job – if you could call it that, for it sometimes involved working all night – was assistant to retired holy man Guru Baba. He’d learned so much from him; he was like the grandfather he’d never known. He didn’t want to abandon him. Sami said, “Can I continue to help you casually? That’s what works for me right now.”

Alfred was surprised at the rejection of his offer. Rather than dwell upon it, he said, “Okay, let’s get moving then. Something has been niggling me for a while. Production takes time, too much time in my opinion. I want to integrate time into the process.”

“You mean accelerate production? We could fabricate more machines, and break down jobs into parts.”

“I’m not sure that would work. Each job is processed as a whole. Anyway, I meant something else. I meant using time as a fourth dimension.”

“You want to make a 4D printer? Is that possible?”

“I’m not sure, but I have an idea. We could integrate the start time and end time of production into the process – so the object exists in both times at once – and then compress them into a singularity. I’m not sure if that would make the object unfinite or infinite though.”

They adjusted the 3D printer’s settings, fed in crustacean data and plenty of calcium and chitin – and produced a pink crab. It moved and stopped, moved and stopped, moved and stopped. It was hard to say if this was the crab’s erratic motion, or continual flux between life and death. This was the secret hidden by its shell.

Whether or not the experiment was successful, it amused the baby they’d fabricated the day before. She kept waving her arms and legs about, clamping her fingers together, and laughing.

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Good People

Posted in Alternative Energy, Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 12, 2012 by javedbabar

Sami was spending all his free time at Lucerne’s new store, Additive Manufacturing Processes, known as AMP co. It wasn’t open for business yet, as the owner, Alfred, was testing his new equipment – an innovative 3D printer that could fabricate almost anything, given the right data and materials.

It was an amusing contrast to the previous business there, the General Store, filled with everything you could think of. The owner had sold it after 72 years of living and working there, which had cost him the chance of having a wife and family.

“I’ve often been tempted to create something living,” said Alfred. “But till now I have stopped myself. There could be a tricky situation…”

“We created a worm yesterday. That was successful.” Sami recalled stepping on the poor thing accidentally. “Well, sort of…”

Alfred stared hard at the 3D printer. He seemed to look at particular cogs and levers sequentially. After a while he said, “That’s the problem, my friend. We’ve crossed the Rubicon. We’ve gone beyond the Pale.” Sami must have looked at him strangely.

“Excuse me; I am a keen student of history. The Rubicon was the river crossed by Caesar with the Roman army, after which he became dictator of Rome. The Pale was the part of Ireland controlled by the British, beyond which was wild, lawless terrain. Making the worm was easy. It was a shame you killed it, but I don’t think we were really affected by its death. If we created a human being though, that would be a different matter.”

Sami had been following Alfred’s gaze as he was speaking, but now his head turned towards Alfred, almost snapping into place. He had imagined making a mouse or cat, even a dog, but Alfred was talking about creating a human. “Are you seriously considering that?”

“Well, yes. I have been for some time. The machine is life-blind. It does not differentiate between animate and inanimate matter. As long as we prepare it correctly, it will produce what we desire.”

“Why don’t we make gold then?” said Sami. “Or cash?”

“The problem is that gold can only be made from gold. We won’t be creating anything, just putting it through the machine. And cash – we could easily make coins, but notes have serial numbers, so we would either be forging them or creating new ones, which is also illegal.”

“But isn’t creating life illegal? You can’t just do it because you feel like it.”

“Of course you can. What do you think is the cause of the world’s population crisis? The people who can’t afford to feed, clothe and educate their kids are having the most. Only China has shown real leadership in this area. Anyway that is a different matter. This is science. Let’s make a person. Are you in on the experiment or not?”

Sami first said no, and then yes; his curiosity was too great.

The machine was too small to make an adult – at least in one piece – so they decided to make a baby. They fed in anatomical, psychological and religious data – hopefully covering the early needs of its mind, body and spirit. They wanted to make good people, not bad ones.

They set the chronometer to 1 month:1day.

After nine days they heard crying in the 3D printer. The owner of the General Store would have been pleased.

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Pet Project

Posted in Alternative Energy, Classic Sci-Fi, Organic Farming with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 11, 2012 by javedbabar

Sami wasn’t sure if he was ready to create life – or at least not human life. Maybe he could start with something smaller, like a pet, or even smaller than that.

Having a 3D printer to play with was fun but was also daunting. Was it really true, that with the right materials he could create anything? Meeting Alfred was a stroke of luck. The young entrepreneur had invited Sami into the experimental shop where he was testing his new integrated technology.

“So what did you decide?” said Alfred. “Still interested in using organic materials?”

“Well yes, but nothing ambitious. We could start with amoeba or bacteria.”

“I’m not sure that would work,” said Alfred. “They are simple organisms that are easy to make in theory, but they are fragile. I don’t think they would survive the process. Also, it would be better to make something more tangible; it’s easier than making things we can’t see. We could try making an insect.”

“What about a worm?” said Sami. “I’ve always liked them, and they’re resilient. I hope worms have forgiven me for the experiments I performed on them as a child, cutting them into two, three, four or more pieces, and seeing which parts survived. We could make a worm. Bring one to life. That would improve my karma!”

“Okay, let’s make a worm.” Alfred tapped away at his computer, and printouts appeared on a small desktop printer.

Sami said, “Why don’t you use the 3D printer?”

Alfred looked sheepish. “It’s not very good with paper.” He gave Sami the printouts, which showed worm dissections along various axes.

“What about its biological systems? Will they work properly?”

“Yes, if there is enough detail. I’m going to set up the 3D printer. Can you find some more information on worms? Photos, videos, textbook pages, anything else you find interesting, and we’ll feed it into the printer, and use the integration tool. It combines all of the data to create a holistic model for production.”

Sami collated details of worms’ long, legless, tube-like bodies, their range of sizes from microscopic to over fifty metre long marine worms, their variety of parasitic niches or living freely on land, in marine or freshwater environments, their hermaphroditism and asexual reproduction, their ability to sense light, their muscular hydrostatic structure, the transmission of parasitic worms by mosquitos, their need for food, moisture, oxygen and favorable temperatures, their hatching from cocoons, their ability to replace or replicate lost segments, their valuable role in food chains, and their sticky slime that holds soil particles together.

Alfred reviewed the information before processing. “They are small but quite complex,” he said. “It will take two days to produce the worm.”

After 48 hours they examined the machine. There was nothing there.

“Damn!” said Alfred. “I don’t know what happened. Everything seemed to be working fine. All the key indicators were…”

“Uh-oh,” said Sami as he squashed something on the floor.

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Another Printer

Posted in Alternative Energy, Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 10, 2012 by javedbabar

Sami was thrilled by the 3D printer. Who would have imagined that a new store in Lucerne – till so recently the General Store, and now AMP co. – could contain such a wonder. When Alfred Choo had asked him what they should create using the prototype, Sami had said, “Another printer.”

Alfred stopped to consider this and said, “Neat idea, I was going to build another one from scratch, but we’ve got one already so why not put it to good use? Create a new cycle of life.”

Sami examined the machine, which looked like a large photocopier with extra wires and cogs and levers. He wanted to touch it but didn’t. It could be dangerous. “How does it work?” he asked.

“In the same way that there are inkjets, bubblejets, and mono and colour laser jets for 2D printing, there are also many technologies for 3D printing. I studied them all but found them wanting. I developed a new theory during my engineering project at university but kept it quiet. If I’d have told them they would have claimed ownership. So I dropped out of college and developed the technology myself.”

There’s more to this guy than meets the eye, thought Sami, and he wants to keep things quiet. Maybe I should stop asking questions.

Alfred however seemed comfortable with Sami being there. He continued, “I looked at Selective Laser Sintering – using carbon dioxide lasers to fuse powders in layers, slowly building up objects. Also Fused Deposition Modelling, where you unwind a filament or wire from a coil, extrude it through a nozzle, heat the material to set it. And Stereolithography – focusing a concentrated beam of UV light into a vat of liquid polymer, and cross-linking layers to create a solid.

Fancy stuff, thought Sami. Very complicated indeed.

“I also tried DMLS, LOM, EBM, plaster based printing, and Holographic Reproduction, but they all held complications and limitations. So I integrated all these methods into a new one that can fabricate objects from almost any material, including plastic, metal, ceramic, glass and wood powders.”

“Can you really make anything with it?” asked Sami.

“Yes, with the right materials.”

Sami was nervous, but decided to ask anyway. “What if you added organic matter? Things like calcium for bones and iron for blood?”

Alfred was quiet for a moment, and then turned to face the 3D printer. “Let’s do what you suggested earlier – make another printer. It should be easy. I’ve got the materials and plans here already. I just need to feed in the data.”

“How long will it take to make?” asked Sami.

“About twenty-four hours. Why don’t you come back here at this time tomorrow?”

That night Sami dreamt of the Beginning. The earth was without form and void; God separated the land from the waters and created every living thing. The next day Sami couldn’t focus at work. All he thought of was creation. He went to AMP co. that night.

“Here’s the second printer,” said Alfred. “It’s yours to try out. What would you like to make with it?”

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Baby Split

Posted in Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , , on May 18, 2012 by javedbabar

Baby was very active. He kicked his legs like a little martial artist, threw punches in the air, and cried continuously. Despite this pointless show of ferocity, no one minded and rather than shout, kick or punch him back, they looked on adoringly.

Mother cuddled him more closely, and said, “There, darling. You’re back with mummy now. There, there. Welcome to our crazy world. You’re the best thing that’s appeared in it ever. My angel. My love…”

Father’s smile grew bigger as he pointed to his newborn son and said, “That’s my boy! He’s going to be a fighter, this one. Look how he’s throwing out hooks already, and he can sure scream. Scare his enemies to death. The warrior…”

Naomi was allowed into the room right after the birth. She was crazy about her baby brother from the moment she saw him. She wondered if his arrival would stop her parents from arguing now. Many of her friends’ parents had split.

Uncle Bobby was there, proud to have a nephew. He’d known the birth process may go on for a while, like it had when Naomi was born, so he’d bought biscuits to share. He was down to his last one, snapped it in two, and offered half each to his sister and brother-in-law.

Baby’s mind was filled with energy rebounding. There were crazy bright patterns, wilding and assembling. He was suddenly cut off from his source of sustenance but still growing at a phenomenal rate. He would grow infinitely.

Where had these patterns come from? How had the growth originated?

He sensed two forces, far apart, but destined to come together. Black and white; yin and yang; masculine and feminine. A faceless horde of long-tailed warriors pouring into a dark valley, fearless, thoughtless, with only the urge to enter the round citadel. The palace of wonders. The hidden treasure. The Grail.

Very few survived the journey. A few brave lucky ones charged ahead and reached their destination, and threw themselves at the final barrier but only the first one made it in. His magical charms gained him entry and the gates closed after him immediately.

The warrior was welcomed. The princess had awaited him forever, for she knew that he had treasures of his own to give. They shared their riches, and realized that together they could grow. But growth also meant change.

The doctor came into the delivery room. He was mainly concerned with practicalities – the execution of his tasks – but he remained aware of the wonder of the matter. That two beings had merged and created a being that was the same as them yet different. Through mitosis, cells had separated their shared chromosomes into two identical sets, which became sibling cells that multiplied, and continued the growth process further. The point of conception was the vortex around which life spun.

Baby’s body wasn’t the only thing splitting and growing. His mind was also breaking off from his mother. There was a time within her when her mind was his mind, and his thoughts were variations of hers. But now he had a second mind, his own. This was his nature, beyond her nurture.

Every act of creation is cosmic, as if a nuclear reaction at the heart of a star; binary fission creates charged fragments; exothermic reactions release electromagnetic energy and kinetic energy, causing both charge and motion. The total binding energy of the elements resulting is greater than that of the element starting. A nuclear transmutation creates fragments that are no longer the same; free energy released is millions times greater than before.

As Baby kicked and punched and cried, he released this energy into the world. He could change this world. He could start or end it.

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Near East

Posted in Global Travel, Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , on May 16, 2012 by javedbabar

“Can we go this way?” said Isis.

Osiris stopped on the edge of the bridge, where a path ran along the river. He remembered when he was a kid. Lucerne was just a clutch of farms and stores, and there was no bridge over this road, at least not one you could drive across. It was just a sham wooden structure that a farmer had nailed together so he could hop into town. The bridge was a short cut to their community centre – the modern glass structure known as the Transparent Temple.

Osiris wondered why she wanted to take the long way around. It was funny that so many people in Lucerne had ancient names, particularly Egyptian ones. Their parents must have been hippies, fascinated by Pharaonic lore. He recalled a book near his mother’s bed called Pyramid Power.

He said, “Sure love. Are you in the mood for a longer walk?” The past three months had been the best of his life. Meeting Isis had rocked his world. She was everything he’d wanted – pretty, funny, smart, cultured and spiritual.

“I prefer the scenic route,” she said. “Let’s walk along the river, then through the fields. We can go through those new houses and enter the back of the Temple.”

“Okay love, let’s do that.” Osiris was so used to doing things his way that whenever Isis expressed a differing preference, his instinctive response was to reject it, but this was followed by curiosity so intense that he agreed to her request immediately. And he found that most of the time her way proved better. If he had to pin a number on it he’d say that she was right seventy-five percent of the time. When he’d explained this to his best friend, the friend had been incredulous. “What? You reckon she’s right seventy-five percent of the time? That can’t be possible!”

“Why not?” Osiris had said. “She’s a clever woman.”

“But you are more clever, my friend. If you are right twenty-five percent of the time, and you accept that she is right seventy-five percent of the time, then that makes you right one hundred percent of the time!”

Osiris and Isis held hands and followed the river east. Its flow was higher than usual. This must be because of early warm weather melting snowpack, whose waters poured into rivers running through the Lucerne Valley. The snow levels on both Mt Alba, rising above the village, and Mt Negra, one hundred kilometres away at the source of the valley, were rising up their respective slopes. Imagine being the last snowflake, he thought, disappearing.

It was a pretty crazy route for such a small river. It twisted and turned, looping back on itself at one point, plunging into pools, and braving small waterfalls. It was said that the first man to find Lucerne had floated along this river. He had fought and escaped his enemies, and been aided by crocodiles and buffaloes. He had climbed out when he had seen the White Mountain and made this his home.

The river continued through green fields. When this first man became old and feeble, he was killed by his descendants and buried in these fields, and from his head sprouted potatoes, his slim arms became carrots, his plump thighs produced beets, his brains made garlics, his lungs produced hemp, and from his manhood grew the first banana.

They came to new houses. The original houses had been built by the first man’s descendants, who became a prosperous tribe. Their wealth had attracted roving bands of hunters, who looted them annually, just after harvest, raping and pillaging and leaving their mark – mixed-blood children, who became present day Lucerne’s inhabitants.

Beyond the village was wilderness, like the original chaos before the first man.

Isis clutched Osiris’s hand harder as they neared the Transparent Temple. It was the heart of the village. Government officials met in Room One to set village strategy. Business leaders met in Room Two to discuss the local economy. Village councillors met in Room Three to promote political agendas. Artists met in the bar to discuss cultural grants and collaborative works. Holy men and women met on Saturdays to promote the memory of the divine founder of their settlement, the first man, called Osiris.

On Saturdays they served falafels, which legend said were first made by Coptic Christians. Pha la phel means “of many beans”, as the Church was formed of many souls, all rolled into one Great Soul. People united by The Authority.

Osiris and Isis were greeted by the Supreme Guardian of the Transparent Temple. He was a crippled, olive-skinned man called Seth. He cast a mean look at Osiris, but winked at Isis. Seth knew it would soon be time for him to regenerate and to leave this chamber, chase out Osiris, marry Isis, and begin the creation cycle anew.

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OM

Posted in Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , on March 17, 2012 by javedbabar

“The highest calling is service,” said Ozwald Malchizedek, also known as OM. “Whether it’s at the grocery store or gas station, by your mailman or cleaner, the guy who comes to check your meters, or the cable girl. They all provide you with service. Even the guy in Bangalore selling you top value telephone packages.” His disciples giggled at his silly accent saying these last few words. Seven of them were crowded around him, at a table meant for six, at Chutney restaurant. It was Saturday night and every table was filled, but theirs was the only one with a bona fide holy man. People glanced over continually at the clean-shaven, bald-headed, dark-skinned man in pale blue robes.

“Are we not all servants, Master?” said a blonde female disciple, wearing a blue-glitter tikka, and matching sparkling sari.

“That’s a very good question, Shanti.” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “You could have also said, “Are we not all Masters, servant?” Shanti looked uncomfortable with this inversion, and looked away. “No, no. It is just the same. I am your Master but also your servant. Go ahead, say it.”

Shanti looked at him and said, “Are we not all Masters, servant?” She looked away again and said, “I don’t like saying that. It feels uncomfortable.” People laughed loudly at another table. A hunting story was in progress. Somewhat incongruous in a vegetarian restaurant.

“Well you must keep saying it till… Aah! Dinner has arrived.”

“Seven Regular Chutney Thalis,” said the waiter cheerfully, “And one Speical Chutney Thali with Fishy Goa?” OM nodded. “Who is the Special Thali for?” OM indicated himself. “Of course, I should have known. A Special Thali for a Special Guest.” OM nodded again. “I hope you enjoy your meal. Please call me if I can be of further service.”

OM raised his eyebrows and said, “See, this man knows about service.” The disciples looked at the waiter lovingly. He became self-conscious as he poured their water. A drop splashed up onto OM’s cheek, and rolled right down, leaving a white streak. He said, “Do not rely on anything in this material world. Not even spray tan.”

OM’s charm lay in his mysterious mix of great wisdom and utter foolishness. This has been the way of all Masters. The disciple’s task was to resonate with the truth apparent, whatever its form.

OM pointed to Shanti’s thali – a rectangular steel plate divided into sections – and said, “Each of us is like one food in this thali. Look, Shanti is the dal, Kim is the mixed vegetables, Simone is the rice, Tom is the roti, Christy is the salad, Gemma is the raita – I mean raita, not writer, though she is that too.” People laughed. “And Mata is the pickle. We are all in this life together, connected by a network of delicious relationships.” Another table laughed loudly. A drinking story.

“Shanti said, “What about you Master?”

OM looked confused, then closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “I am the thali,” he said.

Shanti said, “So you are the servant, carrying us all?” This didn’t come out like she’d expected. OM’s faced flickered. “Oh, sorry, that’s not what I meant really. I meant that you are supporting us all.” She was struggling, thinking of something more to say, and was visibly nervous. “Without the thali, we’d all fall down. Only the thali can…”

“Shanti, Shanti…” he said. “I know what you mean.” She relaxed and closed her eyes. OM took her hands in his and said, “Now let’s eat.” Nobody moved. OM said, “What’s wrong?”

Shanti said, “Aren’t you going to bless the food, Master? You usually do.”

“We are in an Indian restaurant.” OM beamed at them each in turn. “The food has been blessed already. But there’s no harm in blessing it again. Please all close your eyes. A –U – M – …”

Ozwalk Malchizedek was the first to finish. He ordered an extra portion of Fishy Goa. “Oh, so good,” he said. “Just like the dhabas in India.”

“Do they serve Goan food in Punjab?” said Shanti.

“What do you mean by that?” OM snapped.

“I just mean that Fishy Goa is a South Indian dish, and dhabas are popular in North India.”

“Punjabis eat anything,” OM said. “They have all kind of restaurants.” The table became quiet.

“Master,” said a disciple. “I’ve noticed that when you chant OM, it sounds like three syllables rather than one. Is my observation correct?”

“It is incorrect! It is actually four syllables. First you open your mouth wide and say A to signify creation. Then purse your lips and say U for sustenance. Then close your mouth and say M for destruction. Then remain in Silence that is the ultimate servant, underlying them all. Let us all chant these holy syllables together.” The table reverberated to several long “A –U – M – …’s” Other tables stopped laughing and stared.

The waiter felt that it was time for their bill. The disciples fussed over it, but OM insisted on paying with his credit card. He said that they should all give him cash. The waiter gave Ozwald Malchizedek the card machine. He entered his 4-digit PIN: 2-8-6-0, equating to A – U – M – …. on the alpha-numeric keypad. The PIN was incorrect. He tried again with 2-8-6-1, then 2-8-6-*. Then again with 2-8-6-#. Each code didn’t work. He turned towards the waiter and said, “Thank you for reminding us of this most important truth. The fourth syllable – the space between all things – is a great mystery; the ground of all being and truly unknown. You have provided a valuable service to us tonight. Shanti, please use your card instead, and give him a good tip.”

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