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Mellow Tyranny

 Poetry


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Empathy's Demise

It's quite wondrous really, How clocks around the world are ticking right now in perfect synchrony. Wondrous how even in such a large world,  We are all nakedly defined by a common present.  A common, now. Wondrous how the sun is setting right this moment, In one corner of the world. While it rises in another, all at the same time. . Perhaps it is all that's left that unites us through the present. Only the sun bears witness to the capering of man,  For the world is simply too large for us. Large enough to let a man in Paris grab an afternoon Latté,  While a woman in Casablanca runs to the sweet embrace of her lover. . Large enough that the loudest sound you hear is this poem, and my voice, Sheltered from the shelling beyond the sea. Large enough that at this very second, There's a little girl with ringing ears, Looking through the rubble, For her dead mother. . Now, when my voice too goes quiet.  I implore you, tell me what is louder. Is it the luxury of silenc...
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The Beauty of Dandelin Spheres

I've been fortunate enough to run into this seemingly tame video about ellipses by 3Blue1Brown , and I think I've found a nice anchor to base my love for math on. Though I read about it in textbooks and was content enough to feel I understood it, I never stopped to ponder why an angled section of a cone would give an ellipse. And I mean going down into the depths of it to really find a mathematically sound way I could represent it. I think this provides a good insight into how our imaginative minds work too. I often find myself feeling convinced of something when I successfully understand the bare basics of it. Maybe this has something to do with the Dunning Kruger effect? Perhaps so. Maybe our minds are still primitive in this sense. Even a plastic shovel can do the job of lifting off the topsoil and so can an excavator. But to dig deep into the earth, a shovel breaks immediately. And so do weak superficial proofs which provide immediate satisfaction.  I couldn't have been...
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Mayfly Philosophy

One humid night outside my front door, I was sitting in boredom waiting for the sun to go down so I could maybe catch the twilight dusk. The sky turned dark pretty fast that day and it wasn't nearly as impressive as the day before. Flies started buzzing all around and to my surprise, were suddenly gone. In intrigue, I looked up. Turned out, the light above the door frame had been turned on. Like a pilgrimage, little bugs from all around flew right up to it and made tapping sounds at the glass casing. At first I felt pitiful. For these tiny beings could only have so much energy and were wasting it for no reason. Almost like they wanted to break into the bulb and touch the filament, they battered their heads on the glass repeatedly. Fluttering their little wings with all their might. It was indeed pitiful to watch. Still is, whenever I see them. Near bulbs, tube lights, signboards or open fires. “How could one of nature’s creations be so flawed?” I thought. Moreover, it wasn’t like m...
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