Friday 23 August 2013

Where is My Pencil?

When I see a pencil, I see it from my own angle, one angle at a time.

I cannot see it from all the angles at a single moment. It will take a finite amount of time for me to see it from all the angles. At the most what I am possible to do is to capture the image of it from one angle in my eyes and memorize it, move to the next angle, repeat the same. In practice, I don't have to do it consciously, all is automatic. At the end, I will have a collection of images with associated time instances when each of them were captured.

I have no other way to see the whole of it. That is, I am bounded by the constraints of space and time. The constraint of space means I cannot look through all the angles simultaneously. That is because my eyes are of limited size and shape. The constraint of time means I cannot look at the whole of it at a single instant. That is because my body takes time for bringing my eyes from one viewpoint to the next.

By the same constraints of space and time, the images anyone else can memorize are different from mine. No two people can have exactly similar collection of images.

It is possible to extend this argument on eyes and images to other sense organs as well. All the senses are bound by the two constraints.

Now the question is, where is the actual pencil? Who has seen it? Does it exist at all?

God knows.

How do you know that God knows?

People say that all the time, you know.