Schrodinger’s Cat

Short Story 14

“What you’re saying sounds absolutely crazy to me.”

“Well, that’s in line with the subject, no?”

“True, but this time you’ve taken it a bit too far. Let’s just say, I don’t get it.”

“Okay, I’ll try again. But hold on, before that. There’s this old paradox you should hear. If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound??”

“Of course it does. Our lack of observation doesn’t negates a fundamental reality.”

“Yeah, true and false. So let’s expand on this a bit. Let’s co-relate this with love.”

“Love?”

“Yes. You know, you are never sure, if you’re in it or if you wish to be. Are things actually shaping up or is it just a wistful heart making it up?”

“It’s incomplete without the other. That is, the one you love, you need them to complete it. Love is never a one-sided affair.”

“Alas, is it isn’t. Now imagine a cat stuck inside a box, within which there’s an apparatus to kill it. Now until and unless we open the box, we’re not sure whether the cat is dead or alive. This is the thought experiment called Schrodinger’s Cat.”

“Surely it is a bit more complicated than that? And how crude is co-relating the mortality of a cat with that of love?”

“Just as you know, that until and unless you open your mouth, you don’t know whether your chances are game or not.”

“To be honest, I don’t know whether your explanation has simplified or complicated my thoughts further.”

A smile. “I was speaking on love, no?”