ABOUT THE POEM: “The Philosopher Chutiya” launches a satirical attack on the perceived detachment of pure mathematics and science from lived reality. The poem argues that while science can explain the how of the universe (Big Bang, Moon travel), it fails to address the essential why of human existence, love, and character. It champions the "foolishness" of philosophy and emotional risk over the logical pursuit of a problem, ultimately asserting that facing the truth of existence requires character, not calculation or public praise.Mathematics is a language, yes-but what, exactly, are its speakers observing, and what do they hope to express?
Nature doesn’t whisper in Tagalog or Latin; it simply is. Yet those scribbling equations on paper seem utterly detached from it, like addicts chasing delirium, as if the page might swallow itself into a black hole. Solve the riddle of prime numbers? Without a fixed point of reference, it’s not a treasure hunt-it’s nothing at all, neither zero nor infinity.
In this world, we all scramble to flee our own existence, dutifully playing our parts. Like waves straining to break free from the ocean-except waves lack awareness.
When you’re with a whore, you flood the room with light: halogens, stars, whole galaxies blazing. But with a lover, you might just shut your eyes and surrender to the feel of it.
I can’t fathom what revelations lurk on that paper, worth poring over for understanding-something my $2,000 supercomputer crunches effortlessly. But it doesn’t know it can’t be loved back.
It is indeed a better choice to find the answers yourself if there is a way, rather than keep looking for a daddy to answer them for you through religion or god.
But the one who was not made a fool in love-there is none foolisher. Love is the foolishness to risk your heart. The point is not to be grammatically correct but to understand and convey the message. Get lost in the chaos while knowing you are mad.
Without even living first, why is there a desire to know why I exist and what would happen later, after death?
Mathematics can take me to the moon and tell me why it all began with a big bang-if it ever did. But because they can solve a puzzle and I can’t doesn’t mean they know more than a philosopher. Mathematics can tell you how the universe works.
Philosophy can help you frame the question of why.
Can maths make me fall in love once again with the same girl, in the same exact moment as before, and tell me why the education I received through books was not enough to be with her?
On the edge of the universe, when you are not fully out of it nor wholly in it, it is not the presence of inside and the absence of outside. When you are face to face with existence, how would you like to face it-with mathematics or with character?
I know in philosophy you can’t tell a baba from Asaram, but that is a different matter.
Shiva, after knowing the answer to “Who am I?”, is not in a club presenting his business card. But a mathematician can’t live without praise. He comes back to the same society which he didn’t consider a point of reference at first.
Elon Musk is god-he has money. You have mathematics and science, so you are the prophets. And a philosopher is a chutiya, right? What lame people. Now robots will run their race because they can’t themselves.
Suppose by midnight scientist finally find out the colour of the panties of god, then?
