And in the End

By Sumit Mullick

Is there evidence of some kind of existence beyond death, or is death the final destination...the end of everything?

Ajit Singh, the custodian of the laws that govern the very fundamental basis of matter - atoms and subatomic particles, delves deep into the quantum world, which is at the essence of every component of the universe. Ajit discovers through his scientific research that death cannot exist in Quantum Physics and eventually decides on a radical option to prove his conviction to himself and the world.

A remarkable scientific journey, explaining the mysteries of time and space, across multiple universes and across infinity, to discover the answers to the ultimate questions confronting us all – about life and death, and what could be in store for us beyond death.

A saga with characters in real life situations, dilemmas, romantic liaisons, around whom the weird, counter-intuitive, concepts of the quantum world and astrophysics are enmeshed.

But what remains to be seen is whether Ajit could prove what is there in the science and maths, or whether his sacrifice was in vain.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Feb 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9789354584855

Sumit Mullick

Sumit Mullick belongs to Kolkata, where he spent the formative years of his life. He has published three novels and an academic book on school education.

Book preview

PREFACE

The Danish philosopher, Soren Kierkegaard, famously regarded life to have no purpose and meaning. He believed that all our hopes, aspirations, romances and achievements are pointless, as we are all going to die in the very short term.

What Kierkegaard felt is true. It is a truth that we are all aware of, but try not to think about, as death is unpleasant and depressing. But not thinking about death, doesn’t make death, the close inevitability of death, go away.

So, if life, our existence here on Earth, all our experiences, our memories, our joys and sorrows, everything we consider valuable, are to have any meaning, death cannot be considered as the end of everything we have ever lived for, as the end of the only life we are aware of. And almost all of us have witnessed the passing away of some loved one into a darkness and silence we don’t understand but fear instead. Time, it is said, is a great healer, and we have to get on with our lives. But the shadow of death still remains, hovering over all of us, gnawing away at our happiness.

We need to have some assurance, if our life has to have any meaning, that that there will be some kind of existence, or personal consciousness, after death. And that assurance the universe is able to provide through evidence based on logic, rationality and science.

Science is often stranger than fiction. While the universe is not only strange, it is stranger than we can imagine. It is full of wonder, mystery and amazing beauty. At the micro level, at the level of quantum physics, there are particles and sub-atomic particles, out of which all matter is made – the Earth, the Sun, the galaxies, every individual, every plant, every virus, everything. Experiments and the accompanying maths, have shown conclusively that particles exist, when not observed, in a state of quantum collapse; or, in other words, in a state of infinite possibilities. Only when a particle is observed, it appears in the universe and in the timeline of the observer, and in the same number of dimensions as exists in the observer’s world.

Which means that quantum physics doesn’t allow for death. For, if there was no life, there would be no observation, and, consequently, no matter. The universe would just be an endless emptiness.

So, the question arises, if death, as we understand it, is not possible, then what exactly is death, and what happens to us after we die? On this point a number of exciting possibilities open to us:

Time is not constant. It is relative. The maths has shown that time can move in any direction, including backwards. And that there are multiple timelines, other than our own, where the dead could pass into.

Then there are multiple universes parallel to our own, where we might go when we die. Or we could go into higher dimensions. According to the String theory there are twenty-six dimensions. Or, there may be no limit to the number of dimensions.

There would be also extra-terrestrial intelligence; intelligence from alien civilisations, far older, and far more advanced than ours, which could have had a role in the creation of life on our planet, and a role as well in determining an after-life.

Consciousness, it is theorised, exists independent of our bodies. So, when our bodies die, our consciousness remains to permeate the universe. This is corroborated by a basic premise in physics, that no information can ever be lost. Each individual is a reservoir of information, of thoughts, memories, experiences. All this information is stored at the event horizons of black holes, and at the edge of our observable universe, and radiated out as a hologram.

A large part of the universe is filled with dark energy and dark matter. We cannot see it. But we know that they exist because of their effects on gravity, and the unaccounted energy fuelling the galaxies accelerating away from our own. We could become part of this dark matter and dark energy, once we leave this world.

All these mind warping concepts provide an understanding of what death actually is, and what could happen after death.

These strange, but scientifically arrived at, concepts have been explained in the form of a novel. And the novel is probably the best way to explain them, to bring to clarity, what is essentially, counter-intuitive, and, therefore, difficult for our minds to grasp. This is a novel with characters involved in real life situations, dilemmas, romantic liaisons, around whom the weird concepts of quantum and astrophysics are enmeshed.

And it is an offering to help create an understanding that death is not evil...it is only the final mystery. And, now, it is even less of a mystery.

He was late! Ajit Singh bounded down the stairs, two at a time, sprinted to his car, threw in his rucksack and revved up the engine. The stadium was at the other end of the campus. He would have to break the campus speed limits, if at all he was to make it in time.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the entrance to the stadium. He had fifteen minutes to change, compose himself, and reach the arena. Composing himself, getting his mind to focus, nudging his will, his determination, to win, were crucial. Not enough time. And it was a crucial fight this evening. It was the quarter final of the Inter University Medium Weight Wrestling Championship. The stadium would be full of students, faculty, and the general public, all building themselves up with vicarious pleasure into a pitch of excitement. He would be badly heckled if he showed up late. The referee might even grant a walk over.

Ajit, why this evening? His trainer was looking angry and disappointed. Not this evening! I can’t believe that you had something more important to do.

The trainer was right…and wrong. Ajit had been day-dreaming and had lost sense of time. He did not know if day dreaming was more important or not than the contest tonight. If he were Einstein immersed in the day dreams of his thought experiments, it would have certainly been more important. Einstein worked out all his beautiful and elegant theories by day-dreaming. The maths came later. And the empirical proof even later. Ajit did not know if his own dreams would lead to any fundamental breakthroughs. But, tonight, they had led him to be late for an important contest.

His trainer grabbed him impatiently by the shoulder and propelled him towards the changing rooms. Ajit quickly changed into his loin cloth, and studied himself in the mirror, while his trainer was trying to wind him up.

Your opponent will grind you into the mud. You have become soft. You have not been working out. Yes, look at yourself carefully. Please do. Where have your muscles disappeared? Into the flab of your belly? Into your brain? And where did all the flab come from? But, even if I am telling you, don’t think of any of that now. Think of what you were, and think of what you can become, if you didn’t keep screwing yourself up.

Ajit decided to agree with him. He was not following the lifestyle required for even the non-professional wrestler that he was. He was, for one, falling short of his high protein, high calorie, diet. Then he was highly irregular at the gym. Of course, he had a lot of other things to do. It was not like he was being lazy. But, as he always told his students…if you are doing something, do it with passion and dedication. Otherwise, don’t do it. By this principle, he would probably, sadly, have to give up wrestling. There was just not enough time.

After running him down, his trainer was now trying to pep him up.

"Your opponent, though far, far, more disciplined, and far more focused, has his weaknesses. He loses blood circulation very quickly with the strangle pin. So, try to strangle him early, and pin his shoulders and hips to the ground, and win the match. You need not go through the full half hour. You are under no obligation to provide entertainment to the crowd. You are only under obligation to me, and to yourself, and to winning.

Ok, time to go.

Bells were ringing. The trainer was trying to massage whatever muscles he had accused Ajit of not having. But there was no time left for that. They strode into the arena, waving to the chanting crowd.

Ajit glanced at the first row…seat A5. It was empty. Damn! Supriya had not come. And he had reminded her this morning. He told her that it was very important for him that she come to see the fight. And she promised she would be there. And yet, her seat was empty. Damn! But, don’t think about it now. Focus! There must be a reasonable explanation. He, himself, had almost missed the fight for an unreasonable reason. Focus! His opponent was already in the mud pit soaking up the cheers from the crowd. And the way he was moving, flinging his arms around, the guy was fit, with energy to spare. And he was younger than him as well.

Ajit wished his opponent would go away. He would assist by not observing him and then he would happily disappear into a state of quantum collapse. But it was also true that there was a whole stadium of eyes and minds observing him. So, getting him to disappear was not likely to happen.

Ajit stepped into the mud pit and waved at the crowd, to claim his share of the applause. At the sound of the referee’s whistle, he turned around to shake hands with his grappling rival. Ajit felt the handshake was unnecessarily strong. His opponent was trying to intimidate him with a handshake. It was a clear sign of immaturity and over confidence. Ajit felt reassured. He would win tonight.

With the second blast from the referee’s whistle, Ajit and his opponent bent down, scooped up some mud, and flung it on their own bodies, with loud resounding claps to their chests and thighs, merging with the sighs and moans and howls of the crowd. Then, continuing as per ritual, they flung large handfuls of mud on each other, hoping that at least some of it would get into the eyes.

Another blast of the whistle, and they grappled. Two pit bulls, with arms and shoulders locked, pushing at each other, using their skulls as well, trying to throw each other off their feet. The rules in Indian wrestling were simple. There were no rounds, and a win was achieved by pinning the opponent’s shoulders and hips to the ground.

Which was not happening. When they thought that their skulls would explode with the intense blood pressure, they disengaged and retreated. Ajit glanced at seat A5. It was still empty. Hell! But, now with the bull charging at him, he would have to postpone whatever he was planning to tell Supriya. Ajit neatly side stepped the charge, waited till his opponent was past him, and then threw himself at his legs, bringing him down with an impressive thud.

Never charge you idiot, Ajit growled quietly. Not unless you are absolutely sure that your charge and your obscene weight behind the charge will not be used against you.

Ajit was on top of him, on top of his back, trying to submerge his hips and shoulders into the dirt, as required for a win. But his opponent was too energetic, and too fit, as Ajit had suspected. He managed to throw Ajit off, though not without a prolonged struggle, which was a matter of some pride for Ajit.

Yes, I can get the better of this guy, he thought.

They stepped back again. Ajit instinctively glanced at A5, not expecting to see anything, except an empty chair. But this time Supriya was there adorning the chair. She had finally come.

Ajit had no time for a further glance, or a further thought. The bull was again charging.

Some guys never learn! But he had apparently learnt. He anticipated Ajit’s feint to the left, and was positioned, exactly where Ajit thought he would not be. Ajit found himself down in the dirt, with his opponent sitting on his stomach. Ajit’s hips were firmly embedded into the dirt. He needed to keep his shoulders above the dirt, or else the fight would be over. Ajit kept his shoulders high and pushed with all his strength against the torso of his opponent, trying to push him off.

Ajit’s unexercised muscles were under enormous strain. He knew that he would not be able to hold out much longer. Why wouldn’t this disgusting alpha gorilla, squatting hard on his stomach, just go away?

As per the laws of quantum physics, he would indeed go away, if he did not observe him. He would then disappear into another universe, or into a different set of dimensions, or into a different time line. But the problem was that there was an entire stadium of spectators observing him, keeping him where he was. Still, if he alone did not observe, there would be at least one less.

Ajit shut his eyes, and with a wrenching thrust, he mightly pushed against his opponent, and threw him off. But he had drained himself in that last attempt, and his opponent knew it. Ajit was flung down once again. But before he hit the dirt, through his peripheral vision, he saw that Supriya was still there, cheering him on.

Supriya was observing him! So, he must be existing in this universe, in three spatial dimensions, and in a single time dimension. He existed now and here! And he existed as a winner! The particles from Supriya’s eyes and brain, entering into him, by the trillions, every second, told him that.

Can’t let Supriya down. Can’t let the particles, the fundamental building blocks of everything in the Multiverse, down. He owed everything to them. Ajit had the power of the cosmos with him, of exploding stars, of black holes, of the Big Bang itself. With such power, his opponent was a non-issue. Ajit, effortlessly, flipped over his opponent and reversed roles. He was sitting on his opponent’s hips, and was pressing those hips, as well as the shoulders, firmly into the mud. And for long enough for the referee to be satisfied. The referee pulled him to his feet, took one of his arms, and waved it to the cheering crowd. His trainer was looking surprised and seemed unsure whether to be happy or not.

Why did you come late for the fight? I reminded you several times. You know that your presence means a lot to me. It could make all the difference between winning and losing.

Supriya rolled her eyes and raised her brows in mock despair.

And you know what I think about wrestling. It’s brutal, cruel and meaningless.

Ajit looked deep and soulfully at Supriya from across their coffee table. She looked so lovely. Her long, thick, cascading hair, her dark eyes full of mystery, the sensual mouth, her full, yet trim, figure, never failed to activate Ajit’s hormones.

Supriya continued, Look at you. You are a brilliant professor of Quantum Physics, unravelling some of the Universe’s fundamental mysteries. Where does wrestling fit into all this? The sublime and the ridiculous are not a good fit. Why don’t you stick to your violin? You are way too talented for your own good. At least there seems to be a connection between your music and the music of the spheres.

Ajit loved the way her lips moved in alluring curves when she spoke. But she wouldn’t let him get close to those lips. But he wouldn’t stop trying. He had no choice.

Ajit reached inside his pocket and brought out a small jewellery box and handed it over to Supriya.

Supriya opened the box, took out a diamond brooch attached to a slender gold chain. She put the chain and the brooch back in the box, snapped it shut and gave it back to Ajit.

Ajit, you know that I can’t accept these expensive gifts from you. Or, for that matter, any gift. I like you a lot, Ajit, but I am not ready yet.

Ajit sighed. When was she going to be ready? He had been wooing her for months now.

Besides, continued Supriya, is this ethical? I am a post graduate student, and my professor whose class I am in, is trying to seduce me. And I am doing nothing substantive to discourage him, apart from refusing his expensive gifts. Everyone will think that I am trying to get good grades out of you.

Ajit sighed again, I don’t think people are particularly bothered about our relationship, whatever that relationship is.

Ajit waved around the campus coffee shop, There are a number of people here who know us. But they respect us wanting to be together, alone, and are giving us space. There will be some gossip of course. But that is normal. It is human nature and is not going to hurt us. And I have already told the Dean that I will not be examining or grading your papers

Supriya was surprised, You did?

Ajit agreed, I did.

So, now it is official. You informed the Dean officially that we are having an affair. But you also know that there is another factor. My conservative upbringing will not allow for any relationship, unless it was for marriage. I am telling you this right up front, so that you don’t get hurt later. And marrying you, a person of some indeterminate faith, or no faith, is out of the question. It would break my parent’s Catholic hearts.

Ajit nodded sadly in agreement. Her parents were well-known church figures. They were the pillars of the local Catholic church. They were known for their devotion. Her father was a born-again Christian, who saw the light, heard the calling in mid-life, and discovered his true vocation to be the instrument of God’s will. Her mother would follow whatever course the husband set. Supriya Antana Jane Mani was right. Any possible relationship, any proposal of marriage, would never have her parent’s consent.

Ajit reached out for Supriya’s hand resting on the table and held it. Supriya did not withdraw her hand, which encouraged Ajit to reach out again and grab the other hand. But this time some boundary had been crossed. Supriya jerked her hands free.

What are you doing? You are embarrassing me! You are creating a spectacle!

Supriya’s mouth moved delightfully in waves and curls.

And there is another thing…another thing…, Supriya hesitated, but you are strange. I guess I should expect any self-respecting, dedicated, professor of quantum physics to be strange. I also feel a bit strange myself just by being a student of quantum physics. But you are beyond strange. You have this morbid fascination for death. I have never heard any other professor in our department ever refer to death in their lectures. But you talk about it all the time as if it is an integral part of the subject. I know that death is inevitable. It is all around us. But who wants to be constantly reminded of it?

Ajit tried to explain, It’s a theory in quantum physics that life is required for the Universe, for every particle, to exist. Life means observers and observation. Without life, there would be no observation, and the Universe and everything in it would cease to exist without observation. Quantum physics does not understand death. And that is probably why I am interested in it.

Ajit reassured, Don’t worry about it now. You will understand it later in your studies.

I think I understand quite a lot of it now, since you always introduce death into all your lectures.

But then don’t you see that I am trying to remove the fear of death, the fear of the unknown? Not through any unverifiable religious mythology, not through faith, but through science, reason, and logic.

Ajit bit his tongue. He knew he should not have said that. And Ajit was right. Supriya was angry.

I don’t think you should insult religion and faith like that. Not to me anyway.You know me. You know my family.

They had had this argument before. Ajit repeated what worked last time in placating her.

I’m sorry. I did not mean to offend religion. I’ve told you before that religion has always played a very important role in giving peace and happiness and, above all, hope. For this reason, I am not against religion.

Yes, Supriya nodded, you also said that religion cannot claim a monopoly on knowing what happens after death, especially since religion never provides any evidence. What you would call evidence. But religion doesn’t work like that.

Ajit sighed. He didn’t want the conversation to get stuck on these points, which invariably ended in an argument. This was not why he had asked Supriya out for coffee. He reached out for Supriya’s hand again.

Can I take you out for dinner sometime in the next few days?

Wrong thing to say. Supriya’s hand vanished. She got up.

I have to leave now. Thanks for the coffee.

Could I drop you somewhere?

Also, a wrong thing to say. Supriya’s slim figure accelerated towards the exit.

Ajit returned to his apartment, feeling despondent. His apartment, his refuge, the place he could unwind or wind up, as he chose, with all the memorabilia of his life, usually always provided him cheer. But not today. Supriya had been more abrupt than usual, almost to the point of rudeness. He had managed to upset her. He always managed to upset her. He would have to change his strategy.

Ajit looked at his parent’s portrait on the wall. The photo was one among many...family pictures, dramatic wrestling snapshots, pictures of him getting several academic awards. But this one always seemed to search him out and probe his brain, demanding answers, and even questions, out of his brain. Questions regarding where are they now? Are they dead? What is death? Are they reaching out to him? Or is it just a hallucination? A longing for a wish fulfilment? Can he reach out to them? Why does science not understand death?

Particularly quantum physics! Death and quantum physics were irreconcilable. If everyone died…every plant, animal, insect, virus, bacteria, there would be no universe, since there would be nothing living to observe the universe. And quantum physics was real. It worked in everyday life, in every electronic device, in the smart phones, in the satellites, in the GPS systems. It was mathematically proven, again and again. The maths was never wrong. Quantum physics was never wrong. So, death, instead, had to be wrong. His parents were somewhere. And he had to find them. He had been provided with the tools to find them.

Ajit stared back at his parents. He had been very, very, close to them. That was normal. His parents had been very good to him. That was also normal. He was shattered when his parents died in quick succession. That, too, was fairly normal. He longed to once again experience the bonding, care, love, freedom, protection, the transfer of responsibility, all of which he enjoyed while his parents were around. Normal again. But he also felt the presence of his parents – a real presence. He was willing to swear, wager, certify that their presence was real, and not some kind of a chemical-induced apparition of the brain. This, he understood, was not normal.

Ajit sat down on a sofa. He felt dizzy. It was too real, too rich. Far too real to be any kind of wishful fantasy, or any kind of delirium of a mind ravaged by nostalgia and sorrow. His parents were reaching out to him from wherever they were. But they could not reach him. He could not reach them. This had been going on for years. And there was never, anything more, beyond this point. Ajit sobbed in frustration as he recalled all the evenings spent in misery, trying in vain to communicate with his parents. His parents were present. He was sure about that. But a communication link just could not be established.

Ajit arose from the sofa with a sudden jerk, walked across the room and picked out a violin from its case. He handled it with care. It was very precious. It was given to him by his mother, who in turn received it from her mother. He plucked the strings, checking for pitch and the perfect harmony between the strings. And then he played, sliding the bow delicately over the strings, while his fingers skimmed across the frets, pressing down to create the chords.

He played the first movement of the ninth symphony of Beethoven. Ajit relaxed as his body and mind became a part of the music. Then his fingers and bow moved faster as he entered into the second movement. By the time he shifted to the third and fastest movement, Ajit became completely immersed in the music as his body swayed and danced with increasing speed as the music increased in tempo.

Ajit suddenly stopped in the middle of a chord sequence, hesitated, and switched abruptly to Chopin’s Nocturne. It was a piece that his mother loved, and one he had heard her play often. He had heard her hum it faintly as she was dying. She hummed it, oh so slow. Each note of the Nocturne had to be forced out of her darkening lips. But it was unmistakable. Ajit gently lay on top of his mother’s frail, wasted, body, hugging her, hanging on to every note that escaped her lips.

Please don’t go mama. Please don’t go. God, please don’t take her away from me. Oh God, I beg you. I swear I will do anything for you. But please let my mother stay with me…

Ajit kissed his mother repeatedly, as his tears drenched her face. He squeezed her emaciated body, trying to will life from his own body into his mothers. It was no use. His mother’s breathing got fainter and fainter, as her life was being sucked out by a will stronger than his own.

Her humming stopped. The tune faded away. But she was trying to speak, speak in broken whispers. Ajit put his ear next to her lips.

Death…is…taking…me…away…far, far, away…but I do not want to go…please bring me back…

Ajit could give no assurance. He could not speak. His vocal cords were choked. He placed his face next to his mothers and hung on tight. What he could not speak, however, kept reverberating in his head.

Mama, I will come and find you wherever you are going, as soon as I can. This I promise. But mama, wherever you go, please never leave me. Please find some way to be with me, talk to me, every day, every moment.

His mother seemed to understand, and Ajit thought she even nodded her head. And it seemed to give her strength as well. She began humming Chopin’s Nocturne again.

Ajit’s bow arm violently played Chopin’s Nocturne on the violin, adding supercharged energy to his dying mother’s rendition, as if music had the power to save his mother across the span of time, and across the chasm that separated life from death.

His mother’s deathbed scene was an encapsulated frozen shard of memory, of time, which now came back to him as a several dimensional hologram, in which he could enter and participate. The more vigorously he played the violin, the clearer, and more real, became the hologram. Ajit played the violin faster and faster, distorting Chopin’s Nocturne. He felt the strings become hot, and his fingers begin to bleed. The hologram became sharper and clearer still with the frenzied music. If he could participate in the hologram, then he could change it as well.

As he played his burning violin, Ajit could sense that he was transferring life and energy from himself into his mother. His mother started gathering flesh and weight around her shrunken bones, and her skin resumed the radiant colours of life, while Ajit became increasingly emaciated and pale. His mother got up from her deathbed, and Ajit collapsed lifeless on it, the deathbed now becoming his own.

Ajit flung the violin down. The hologram disappeared. Was it but a hologram within a hologram? Playing the violin, wrestling, Supriya, and everything else in the universe, could also be a hologram created by some gigantic black hole somewhere, spewing out the information that it had swallowed and saved. All the matter, all the reality around him, was just an illusion. It was only an illusion that his parents had died. If death was an illusion, then the illusion could be changed by a tweak of the formulae that governed the laws of the cosmos. He would need to understand these laws well, and go beyond, much beyond, what was already considered as being understood.

Ajit, as usual, was late for his lecture. Being late was normal for him. But that didn’t stop his students from coming well in time and waiting for him. Their only grouse was that they would have a few, or several, minutes less of his lecture. And even those who were not his students were waiting in the classroom. Some of them had no business to be there…students from the art courses, from the management faculty. Ajit was popular because he was entertaining. Or, as he liked to believe, because his subject explored the fundamental, the very fundamental, the very core, the very basis, of nature, of matter, of existence. Everything else taught on the campus was of subsidiary value and non-fundamental. It was human nature to yearn for the basic truths, for answers to the age-old questions.

Ajit entered the classroom with a flourish, waved to the class, put his bag down on the table, hitched himself onto the table, sat down, and searched the audience. Supriya was there in one of the high back rows. Their eyes met fleetingly. Ajit paused, collecting himself, and then suddenly jumped up, rushed up the stairs, pounced on a student sitting quietly, dragging him out. Ajit had the student’s head caught in a Full Nelson grip, as he took him down the stairs into the well of the classroom.

Ajit released him, Just you and me Mike, and the laws of physics. Ignore the rest of the class.

Mike welcomed the suggestion. He threw himself at Ajit. Ajit stood lightly, bent, coiled like a spring, waiting for Mike’s charge. When Mike was a split second away from him, he leaned back with his arms and fingers outstretched, and delicately pushed back at Mike with his extended fingers. Mike went flying back, barely managing to keep his balance.

Ladies and gentlemen, Ajit proclaimed to the class, behold the third law of motion by Newton. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Ajit then quickly rushed forward and threw himself at Mike, who was still trying to get back his balance. Mike collapsed with Ajit on top.

"Mike, just lie there, as you are, quietly, eyes