shape-shifting memories, and a fierce but gentle love

News of Gary Sobers' passing away caused an old memory to resurface.

For long, I had a memory of my mother telling me that Dad used to have a cricket bat autographed by Gary Sobers, which he then passed on to his nephew (a paternal cousin of mine, who sadly died in his 40s), much to my mother's consternation.

After reading the news about Sobers' passing away and watching his six 6es in a single over, a black-and-white clip over on YouTube, I called my parents.

Turns out that Dad, captain of the cricket team at his university and later a regular player at a local club, did indeed have a cricket bat that he had passed on to my cousin.

But there was another bat, this one that Sobers had used to play, that belonged to the club/university — Dad couldn't remember which — and which he and his teammates took turns to bat with.

My mind went blank, having been shown 'the folly of memory'. Did you know I have a newly released metaphysical fantasy book by that name?

What is memory, if not the stories we keep telling ourselves about past experiences, stories that morph and shape-shift the way the voice in our head decides?

Dad, a cricket aficionado, also remembered watching Sobers playing at the stadium in Chennai on three different occasions.

I had another memory — not completely unfounded this time, thank Heavens — of Dad listening to cricket match commentaries on the radio.

Yes, I passed my early childhood in an era where a television was not a common fixture in every home, and even when it became so in my teens, there was only a national TV channel at first — Doordarshan — which certainly didn't run 24/7.

That means there were certain programmes we'd look forward to with much eagerness and delight — Detective Byomkesh Bakshi on Wednesday evenings, Mahabharata on Sunday mornings, Alif Laila — an adaptation of One Thousand and One Nights.

The concept of binge-watching hadn't even taken hold in anybody's imagination back then.

Anyhoo, I digress. But perhaps the older we grow, the more things happen that cause old memories to resurface — an unexpected reconnection with a long-ago friend/acquaintance, news of someone known or of a near and dear one passing away, youngsters grown up ...

And through all of this, I sometimes feel like a quiet, little child, simply sitting and observing life unfold of its own accord. There's not really much for me to do on occasions such as these, except to witness and accompany, and that alone can matter. And if it doesn't, it doesn't. Nothing to be fixed or tweaked there.

I wrote about Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid a few days ago. But there are still so many passages from that book that stayed with me that I wish to record them here.

Joan's and Vanessa's love story is a story of an extraordinarily beautiful connection between two human beings. It's hard to dissect why — and I believe that the unnameable mystery is what lends it magic and beauty, and so I steer clear of trying to rationalize or explain it.

But, I wonder if it's to do with the nature of sapphic romance. Love between two women has its own gentleness and sensuality, as well as its own cruelty and callousness.

I'm reminded of Bury Our Bones In The Midnight Soil by V. E. Schwab, a dark fantasy novel featuring relationships between lesbian vampires across different time periods and countries.

That was another book filled with exquisite lines and breathtaking passages, and I somehow let it all slip away without trapping some of those shimmering words over here in this little corner of the Internet.

But back to Atmosphere now, and here are a few more excerpts to add to the delights that I shared previously.

Vanessa looked back up at the sky. "I can still see it — Hercules. Now that you've pointed it out, I can see it so clearly. And then just beyond it is Ursa Major and then Ursa Minor, with Polaris."

Joan nodded. "That's what made me fall in love with astronomy as a kid," she said. "That the night sky is a map, and once you know how to read it, it will always be there. You'll never be lost."

Vanessa smiled at her. And it made something in Joan want to keep talking. "I've always felt like, when I look at the stars, I am reminded that I am never alone," she said.

"Really?" Vanessa said. "How?"

"Well, we are the stars," Joan said. "And the stars are us. Every atom in our bodies was once out there. Was once a part of them. To look at the night sky is to look at parts of who you once were, who you may one day be." As she said it, Joan could tell how lonely it must sound. To find companionship with the stars. But what she meant was bigger than that.

Being human was such a lonely endeavour. We alone have consciousness; we are the only intelligent life force that we know of in the galaxy. We have no one but one another. Joan was always moved by the fact that everything — all matter on Earth and beyond, up past the atmosphere, going as far as the edges of the universe, as it expands farther and farther away from us — is made from the same elements. We are made of the same things as the stars and the planets. Remembering that connection brought Joan comfort. It also brought her some sense of responsibility. And what was kinship but that? Comfort and responsibility. "It sounds stupid, I know," she said.

"No," Vanessa said. "It doesn't. It's fascinating. I love hearing why you became an astronomer. I don't know if I have that clarity."

~ An excerpt from Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid

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"... If you find a way to make yourself absolutely terrified, there's no room for any other feeling."

~ An excerpt from Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid

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"Well, my parents are Protestant. They believe that God made the world in six days. Eve came from Adam. The Earth is six thousand years old."

"But that doesn't work for you."

Joan shook her head. "The Earth is at least four and a half billion years old. We know that, objectively. So I had to start asking myself different questions."

"Because science and God don't mix?"

Joan sat up. "No, no, no. Not at all. I don't feel that way at all."

"But why not? Why, when they tell you that God created man out of thin air and then you learn about evolution, why does the whole thing not crumble for you?"

"Because there are so many ways to define God and there's still so much unknown about the universe. I could never say that science has obliterated the possibility of God. Certainly I don't see that happening in my lifetime. And I think something would be lost, if it did. Or maybe I should say that I hope that if it did happen, it would only be because something even more incredible was discovered."

Vanessa smiled. "You're so passionate about the subject of God," she said. " I had no idea."

"I'm passionate about the Milky Way," Joan said. "And I think God's in it."

"I'm listening ..."

Joan looked at her askance. "You really want to hear all of this?"

"Yes, I'm fascinated," Vanessa said.

"Really?"

"Desperately. I want to hear it all."

Joan beamed and tried to hold back her smile. In all of her time spent watching others, she hadn't picked up on this part of falling in love, that someone could look at you as if you were the very centre of everything. And even though you knew better, you'd allow yourself a moment to believe you were worthy of being revolved around, too.

"Okay," Joan started. "Well, the larger questions we ask when we talk about God seem to be 'Why are we here?' And 'Is there an order to all of it? Is someone or something in charge?' But the thing is, science is largely about figuring out answers to those very questions."

"Science is about figuring out the meaning of life?"

"Science is about figuring out the order to the universe. Yes."

"Okay..."

"The theory of general relativity explain the rules of the physical world at large scales, the world we can see with our eyes. Quantum mechanics explains the subatomic world, like electricity and light."

"Gravity and electromagnetism — I'm with you."

"You combine them with the two other forces we know of in the universe, the strong force and the weak force —"

"I'm familiar."

"Well, okay then: that's already a pretty significant order to the universe right there! Everything that we know of since the Big Bang is ruled by those four forces. We are all connected by these four rules. That's the beginning, at least, of learning how we are here. Now, we still need a unifying theory — our understanding of the laws of gravity and quantum physics are not currently compatible."

"It's a big caveat."

"But the unifying theory does exist. It must. We just haven't figured it out yet. And I think the pursuit of finding one law to explain the universe is, yes, science, but it's also the pursuit of God."

"Not the God that most people are talking about," Vanessa said.

Joan considered this. "The Jewish philosopher Spinoza said that God did not necessarily make the universe, but that God is the universe. The unfolding of the universe is God in action. Which would mean science and math are a part of God."

"And we are a part of God because we are a part of the universe," Vanessa said.

"Or better yet, we are the universe. I would go so far as to say that as human beings, we are less of a who and more of a when. We are a moment in time — when all of our cells have come together in this body. But our atoms were many things before, and they will be many things after. The air I'm breathing is the same air your ancestors breathed. Even what is in my body right now — the cells, the air, the bacteria — it's not only mine. It is a point of connection with every other living thing, made up by the same kinds of particles, ruled by the same physical laws.

"When you die, someone will bury you or turn your body into ashes. Eventually, you will return to the Earth. You are already a part of the Earth. What better reason do we have to take care of this Earth and everything on it than the knowledge that we are of one another?"

Joan thought about this so often that it startled her now to realize she'd never put it into words before. What a thrill it was, to say it all.

"The trees need our breath, and our breath needs the trees," she continued. "As scientists we call that symbiosis, and it is a consequence of evolution. But the natural consequences of our connections to each other — that's God, to me. I believe in it because I can see it with my own eyes. I know it exists. But I also believe in it because I want to believe in it. I want to spend my energy thinking not of how my actions might be frowned upon by a man in the sky, but how my actions affect every living and non-living thing around me. Life is God. My life is tied to yours, and to everyone's on this planet. How does that not instantly make us more in debt to one another? And also offer us the comfort that we are not alone?"

Vanessa smiled at her. "Is there more?"

Joan bit her lip. "I don't know. No?"

"You know," Vanessa said, "when you're flying a plane, you can't see people on the ground. All you can see are the towns they live in and the neighbourhoods they fall asleep in. From up there, everyone is so alike, they have so much in common, and they can't see it. But I can, when I'm up there."

"That's exactly it! We are each other. I guess I'm too blown away by it all — too moved by it — to not feel a sense of awe that other people feel in a church."

Vanessa looked at her. "Someday, I want to take you flying over the Rockies early in the morning, when the sun is rising over the mountains and it hits the ridge just right and ... it reminds me of the light coming through the stained-glass windows at the church my mother took me to every Sunday. And I just know you're going to say, 'That's God.'"

"I am going to say, 'That's God'! Not just because it's beautiful, but because sunrise over the mountains is part of the universe itself. Everything, all of us, is God."

~ An excerpt from Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid.

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Wow! I've read these passages countless times by now. It's a lesson in physics and religion and God and mysticism, all rolled into one, and delivered in the most profound and impactful way — by means of storytelling.

I feel so much gratitude to Taylor right now, and I'm so much in awe of her for writing these lines.

To me, this connection between an author and a reader, this is also God.

This is also time travel and mind travel — words written by one person at some point in time in a certain frame of mind, read by another at a future point in time in their own frame of mind, words that touch the heart and whisper to the soul, that we're all connected, we're all one ... if this isn't magic, then what possibly is?

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It was very hard, Joan had learned these past few months, not to scream at someone sometimes. One moment you were vibrating with excitement, but quickly all that same energy could be funnelled into fear or anger. She'd never lived this much on the edges of her own emotions, and it was exhausting.

~ An excerpt from Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid

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She wanted to say, I don't think humans are meant to be up here. And I'm worried I've spent my entire life hoping for something it turns out I can't stand. And I don't know who I might be anymore if I don't want to do this ever again.

~ An excerpt from Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid

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"I was circling two hundred miles above the Earth, and all I wanted was to get home and see you. Do you understand that? Do you understand that I don't care how big or small this world is, that you are the centre of mine? Do you understand that, to someone, you are everything that matters on this entire planet?"

~ An excerpt from Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid

I feel this way about D. I've felt this strongly since the day he was born.

Sometimes I worry if it sets unrealistic expectations for him, me being so present and attentive and interested in everything he says and does.

But over the years I've come to see that having a place of safety and stability, where he knows he matters beyond all measure, helps him be very accommodating and tolerant of the outside world and its many mischiefs.

So thank you, Taylor, for these words that give someone like me the courage to own my convictions.

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Joan did not say that she had just taken in her niece and was now, effectively, a single parent who couldn't leave the planet for long stretches. She said the other thing, the one that was more relevant, and possibly even more true.

"I belong on the ground," Joan said. "I have learned that I am supposed to have both feet on Earth and look up at the stars. Not the other way around."

~ An excerpt from Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid

These lines too have made me see that I want to write not to make money but for the sheer love and delight of it. It's not selfish to want to do so.

In fact, this stance is what helps me write more and share my words with the world. Maybe no one else will read my attempts here, and now I've come to see that that's perfectly fine.

I write for my own self too — and that matters. It makes me a better human being, a better mother, a better partner. It makes me be kinder and more compassionate towards myself. Isn't that an immense gift in itself?

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Wasn't that the story of so many of the gods up there among the stars? She'd been looking at them her whole life and had never really listened, never learned from their stories. They were always punished for their hubris.

~ An excerpt from Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid

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"... You get up there and then for one reason or another, you realize you want to come home."

~ An excerpt from Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid

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These were all the excerpts I had bookmarked as I was reading the book. I feel so glad that I've managed to compile them all here, in this post and in the previous one.

Atmosphere is truly a special book. And I feel so lucky to have come across it and to have read it and enjoyed it and be touched by it so deeply and immensely.