Consciousness as Para-Prakiti Magnet at the Heart of Nature: The Quantum Dynamics of Beatles’ song Dear Prudence

“Dear Prudence open up your eyes     

Dear Prudence see the sunny skies

The wind is low, the birds will sing

That you are part of everything

Dear Prudence won’t you open up your eyes”.

-“Dear Prudence”, The White Album, 1968 (written by John Lennon while The Beatles were in India)

 Consciousness as Para-Prakiti Magnet at the Heart of Nature: The Quantum Dynamics of Beatles’ song Dear Prudence

Opening is a small fractal bursting – the comets of shape magnetize the body burning the coal in the heart of things – wild petro-rose of the dark years of existence can only make the child come out and play: “the wind is low, the birds will sing/that you are part of everything”. The part with the whole and the part without the whole is the quantum analytical judgement based on Bose-Einstein Condensate. What matters is the smile on the child’s face that automatically brings the child into play. The quarks and the leptons are auto-repairing their pairs to fit the groove of a benevolent time in the 4 quartets of the alblackica space. Are you joining this great stage to make a comeback?

Stars are in fractions         

The sky pivots on itself

Trees gather photons from waves

The child is the face of the moon tonight

Dwelling in the night of its future

vivi-afa-afa-vivi

Nectar of light falls on the butterfly

It sees its colours on the book of changes

Time is the cradle of wings that soar.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Pic 1- Beatles in India & P b/w -Beatles in India (Feb, 1968)

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The Alpha-Sovereign Grey Hound Lines Transformed the Ancient-Cloud Technology into the Time-Square of the Vitruvian Man

VITRUVIAN MAN, Leonardo Da Vinci, 1487 (Proportions of Man)

The Alpha-Sovereign Grey Hound Lines Transformed the Ancient-Cloud Technology into the Time-Square of the Vitruvian Man (Time Square is the Temple of the Psychic Lotus/Pink Lotus)

CONSCIOUSNESS-ANALOGUE

Evolution is an artful science through which the ‘many’ in the ‘one’ finds its rightful place in the bottle of time that oozes out like Champagne. Every product in the eye of the consumer is the replica of himself in the mirror of the self procreating in ‘moments of clarity’ to redefine an identity of aspiration and love. Development is through these vertices that label products into ultimate-growth manifestation of a populace that has credentials of the divine glory in the golden ratio of cosmic harmony. The product is the mother that creates the desire through its signs and prepares the user through the time-bound energies of the creation; to be more is not less and less is never more but to be just is the right to be man in the cross-equilibrium of the circle that determines the proportion of perfect growth, each according to the capacity of the vessel it can fill or envelop to be the peace symbol of an ultimate race that has the power to enchant, create and recreate the history of civilizations as the fire emboldens the velocity of mind.

Sunscreen apricots find the shade of Levis true to their own mask yielding walking boots on the shore of an empty ocean. None knows the whereabouts of Christian Dior on the pink-lotus steps of the blue valley, they saw them crawl like fireflies unsung like the quitars of the yellow sea, the cinnamon candles were burning on the woody tables in the banquet hall ; Moët et Chandon slips into the powdered musk of the velvet skies, the germination of the dawn lends its hands to the clockwork orange of Alblackica afternoons; dogs bite dog-ends and watches Joseph Heller do the macabre hi bop on the caramel floors of the extratet creation. Bars of light twine with the fragrance of Rashomon and couple the rhythms with the fountain-orchids of La Dolce Vita, Do you see the black leather belts that fascinate the late evening jazz at the Windsor manor? And in between the Frank Zappa of the bohemian rhapsody do you hear the Nokia waiting to pick up calls from the Godot of the destined stars, silence admires another silence, microchips work faster that god, the multiverse is full of consciousness, speak and be true to your self O man! The Volvo waits in the rain to be taken away by the breezy summer Mercedes of an autumnal reprise, yellow artifacts of the ancient cloud makes green tea with the zen-elbow technology of a zhaotic verb that sits in the armchair nucleus of Norwegian wood. She came and sat on an endured throne and ordered the Ikea from chain stores of Pappilon (read ‘Babylon’!); from the window of the moons the sun was pale vanilla of sweet memories of Kodak making space the alca oktamin bride of frinctuon; for size and dimension the copier was the cat that ran parallel to the white line of energies to ring each bell for a thousand words of love. The end was Rolling Stones playing Voodoo Lounge for the ANZ of a Vitruvian man. Evolution touches the edge of Shakespeare in the platina of Led Zeppelin, flying over it saw timeless moments caught in the web of Harley Davidson as wireless codes are empty bubbles in the sky in the walking ozone of Walulikohim; machine IBM read the letters ‘never meaning to send’ after minutes and synchronized its seconds with the coldplay timepiece of the eternal lands.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Cover Art of Voodoo Lounge, ’94 Studio Album, The Rolling Stones

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (’67) and the Grape-Moun Law of Maha Avatar Babaji

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and the Grape-Moun Law of Maha Avatar Babaji 

Consciousness-Analogue

What art thou manifest to unite the inner being with the body

And the body with the earth sky ether water and the fire

Music in the ears is the halo of Maha-avatar Babaji

As if the sun and its elements have their roots in the alblackica

They resonate like the harp of the millennial chaos transformed into beauty

Thy art so pure and thy music so strong

A uniform lattice holds the curvature of time 

67 in the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

76 in the river of madness and rain

Christ was a friend of George Bernard Shaw, what arms thou amassed to fight the eternal war? What fortune lies in the deep abyss of mankind, my Lord?

The shepherd of the paradise have gone back to his holy land

His virgin flower is an al-ferabi vacuum, petals are burning like the black rose of the sun

In the Nile of the Ganges the sunken heart is an apocryphal horse   

Bramhaputra was Noah’s olfactory lobes

The night was the essence of every dawn of unity

In the grape-moun law of the fraternity

Hindu Kush silent in the yaya-chakra of the haz-time-haz

Eisenstein in the chamber music of the soul

Paris in those days of the future was not what it is now

Though Baudelaire walked as an auteur of historical images

Down past the Louvre into the trapezium of the sound

Andromache the swan was resting in time.

– Joy Roy Choudhury