A Castle full of Books

Courtesy : ArchitecturalDesign 

Over the hills and above the winds, far beyond the citadels of heaven. In a land of transcential tranquility and ever lasting peace lies my perfect little castle. Up in theses heavens of mind, through giant wooden doors and winding paths ever so long stands my perfect little castle. Over the lush country meadows and overlooking celestial gardens stands my perfect little castle. One that is made not of the finest granite but yet is embellished in celestial opulence. Casted in iron and furnished with english brown oak, smelling of the sweet rustic aroma of aged paper and ink. In wooden shelves so high and written works so mighty, stands clinging to each a wall, a million books and its eternal thoughts. my perfect little castle, abode to my perfect little dream.

Show you around this magnificent castle in my dreams I shall, but of all the rooms of one is all I ever dream. Past the grand halls and its antique chandeliers, past the winding stairs and the dimly lit path ways, lies the room of my dreams. With ceilings so high that the stars could peek through and windows through which clouds could come and go. On its windows lashes the rains of many years and in its hearth kindles the great fire of knowledge itself. Smelling of paper and ink, the musk of the intellectual heart and filled with aroma of the wisdom of all ages.  In its centre amidst the many piles of books lies a little chair, one that is cosy and one that is warm. It is here where I sit and bask in the glory of my splendid dream. Sitting there with a steaming cup of coffee at my arms length, a book in my arms and cuddled into the heart of the cushions is I.

There are tall wooden shelves everywhere, each with a million books and ladders that can reach the skies. With a mahogany desk for me to write and many a quills of thousand plumage for my thoughts to flow through. With the flickering light of my hearth I read, like in the time of a greater awakening. When giants of words roamed the land and ideas with wings began to fly. This is where I place the fireman's nightmare, this where I dream my dream in a time in past when many a legends graced the the land. This is my dream, my perfect dream, my dream of my  perfect little castle. 

This is my dream, my perfect dream, my dream of my perfect little castle, little castle of the books.

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Achilles and the Tortoise

I have many varied interests, some of them you know, Some of them I know, some I dare not admit to myself and some may well forever remain unidentified. But of all of them one is a curious liking to obscure paradoxes. I like the inconclusivity of them, the sheer reluctance of them to conclude to something, the ambiguity they persists and the infinite admiration that it invokes. Be it the time travelers paradox that effectively renders him a silent spectator of ages past or the Achilles paradox pointed out by the greek philosopher Zeno that is so obviously untrue yet mathematics require obscure concepts to prove it so. I take pride in the fact that these concepts are elusive and obscure to many it makes sense to me.

Now the paradox of Achilles I'd something that captured my imagination for sometime now, I will let my readers enjoy and revel in it's magnificence while I go and pen down something worth while.

In the paradox of Achilles and the Tortoise, Achilles is in a footrace with the tortoise. Achilles allows the tortoise a head start of 100 metres, for example. If we suppose that each racer starts running at some constant speed (one very fast and one very slow), then after some finite time, Achilles will have run 100 metres, bringing him to the tortoise's starting point. During this time, the tortoise has run a much shorter distance, say, 10 metres. It will then take Achilles some further time to run that distance, by which time the tortoise will have advanced farther; and then more time still to reach this third point, while the tortoise moves ahead. Thus, whenever Achilles reaches somewhere the tortoise has been, he still has farther to go. Therefore, because there are an infinite number of points Achilles must reach where the tortoise has already been, he can never overtake the tortoise.

PS : I was so lazy that I effectively copied the while definition of this paradox outright from Wikipedia.