BEING

ICY
COOL

ABHIJIT KARNIK
First Indian Edition 2008, published by Coriander Books.

© ABHIJIT KARNIK

Coriander Books
[A Division of PrimeTime Publishing]
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Opp Deonar Bus Depot,
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Mumbai - 400 088.

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ISBN: 978-81-8372-043-4

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Printed at Krystal Print Products, Mumbai.

Cover Design &

Page Layouts: Neeta Patel

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 To Ni and Ka
The Class of IC2K

For my parents and sis.

For being there, all through.

Special thanks to Raj,

editor, PrimeTime Publishing,
for patiently dealing
with the naïveties
of a first-time author.
 CON T EN TS

PROLOGUE ............................................................................. 1

I . FINDING THE GUIDE ......................................................... 3

I I . FLIGHTS OF IMAGINATION ......................................... 1 4

I I I . DOES HE NOT LOVE? ....................................................... 2 0

I V . FLEAS OF A THOUSAND MANGY CAMELS ............. 6 4

V. MEANING OF TIME ......................................................... 9 0

V I . GORDIAN KNOT .............................................................. 1 3 4

V I I . LOOSE ENDS ..................................................................... 1 4 6

 PR
PROO LO GUE

Did y o u g
gee t t h e m e s s a g e?

You sure got the message! In the event you didn’t, you ought to read this
book.
It does not promise to reveal the many secrets about the Universe, though it
takes a pot-shot at them. There are no words of wisdom that will make sense to
the sensible — folks who consider other peoples’ opinion or writing as level-
headed.
This book is a mirror. You may look-in and sound-out theories that seem
outrageous or downright nonsensical.
If you’ve read this far, I strongly recommend that you read further too.
But first a quick reminder:
“BUY ME!”
Ab e
This novel is about Abe. There is no intention to offer a powerful introduction
to the central character of the book — just a précis about him would suffice. After
all, this work charts Abe’s nature, character, his progress, metamorphosis and
eventual destiny.
So, without much ado, let’s present Abe.
Abe is a typical above-average guy. By calling him above-average, I indicate
that he is neither the re-incarnation of Albert Einstein nor Bozo, the Clown. With
a measured IQ of 136, Abe is supposed to possess a mental age far advanced than
his physical age. But as they say, “Standardized intelligence tests are as much a
measure of intelligence as the barometer is the measure of wind velocity.” So the
figure136 fails to reveal a great deal about Abe.
By the way, this work is also intended to explore the unsaid. Abe is the typical
boy next door, all right. By the expression, ‘boy next door,’ one is usually tempted
to think of a Greek God staying incognito for a momentary duration to allow
some inexplicable curse to wear off. This is what they usually do in the movies.
The guy/gal next door is also essentially the next Ms Universe or Mr
Underpants-Outside-Trousers-Superhero. Abe is not. He won’t be donning a cape
and flying around the world, at night. Also he won’t fall for the most beautiful
babe in town. He’s what we simply emphasize as the ‘boy next door.’
Yet he remains the central character of this book.

BEING ICY COOL 1

 A c c e p t an c e o f E
Exx i s t e n c e
I would also like to clearly spell out a few additional details.
A-F-E-W-D-E-T-A-I-L-S.
Agreed there is a vast fountain of prolific and highly imaginative writing out
there. In no particular order of preference, I accept that books, or series, like
‘Harry Potter,’ ‘Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,’ ‘Illusions,’ ‘The One,’ ‘Lord of
the Rings,’ ‘Cosmos,’ ‘Contact’ etc., “reside” in our consciousness.
I’ve had the good opportunity to read some of them. It is, therefore, expected
that since I tend — like most of us do — to assimilate the essence of the book I
read, my writing could be influenced subtly, or otherwise, by their fundamental
nature. It is, as a result, expected that my readers recognize this reality with a
pinch of salt and try to understand the “soul” of my work, instead of trying to
dissect it into its constituents. While I’ve made no attempt to stand among the
ranks of the great minds that created immortal works, the right to freedom of
expression, and of thought, is duly respected and exercised.
This book’s origins are rather strange. It started with a plan to write
“memoirs” of our class of IC2K [Instrumentation and Control Batch of 2000].
However, owing to several constraints, if not differences, and lack of co-
ordination, the plans never materialized. All the same, I was extremely keen to
note down events that dictated my life over a span of four very significant
years.
This would seem a boring narrative if I were to stick to reality and/or stay true
to the timelines. In addition, I found it difficult to address the entire book as a first-
person narrative.
As a result, fact now appears mutated to fiction and/or fused to totally
unrelated incidents. Most of the incidents are purely a figment of my imagination.
They may have never transpired. To do justice to the characters, however, and
to make reading interesting, I present “story-bound” forms of the many real-life
people who played important roles during those momentous four years.
Put succinctly, this book only uses fictionalized accounts of real incidents to
glue together totally fictitious events. There is also no intent, or attempt made, to
hurt the sensitivities or sentiments of any individual — overtly or covertly.
Coincidences, if any, are doubtlessly unintentional.
—AK

2 BEING ICY COOL

 I. FINDING TTH
FIN HE GU
GUIIDE

1. Dull D
Du a y iin
Da nCCll a s s

It was a beautiful day. The perfect day when one ought to be in the open,
driving down an empty highway, wind blowing through one’s hair, or maybe
lazing by the pool in a cozy deck chair.
The Sun was partly obscured by the clouds. The hide-and-seek effect it was
creating was what gets you into the mood for poetry, or activity that spawns the
need for poetry.
“But this is the very problem,” thought Abe. He was stuck in a room with a
dull white coloured wall listening to a teacher, a good teacher, who, for once,
failed to hold his attention. “This is the very problem,” continued Abe, albeit to his
own self. He had come to realize through painful experiences that asking simple
questions or making even simpler statements aloud could invite a great deal of
trouble. For instance, there was a time, when in 2nd Grade, Abe had made that
mistake, for the first and maybe the last time.
The textbook said in bold words, “Air is everywhere.” He had also read
sometime before about this thing called space, where you couldn’t stay without a
spacesuit because there was no air. Besides, it was also inconveniently filled with
something called vacuum. He had found out that spacesuits were not available at
the local clothes shop, which meant that not many kids went into space. But the
thought that you could float made it a very lucrative playground for him. By the
time he finished a game of space-tag in his mind, the teacher had finished the
lecture too.
“Do you have any questions?” The funny thing about this question is that no
one is supposed to answer. You are supposed to look at the pretty girl sitting on the
chair to your right. You think it was addressed to her, while she looks at you and
thinks it was addressed to the clown on her left.
But that day, way back in 2nd Grade, Abe had broken the rule. He had raised
his hand and before the teacher could ignore his pitiable but defiant attempt to
break the rule, he said, “I have read there is no air in space.” What followed next
was something that Abe would like to forget. There was also a reason why Abe
was remembering his gaffe today. There was something in common. Both were
beautiful days.
Time is a great teacher. As time progressed, Abe realized that all the knowledge,
which lecturers imparted, was simply outdated. It was not the fault of the

BEING ICY COOL 3

education system. It was just that, like every well-oiled machine that tends to
creak in some unexpected corner, every system was outdated in some part or
whole. Abe had come to believe that it was his obligation to the greater good to
be in that working part of the machine, or system. So, here he was, listening to
things that had been taught to people who had sat in the same seat as he was
doing now. There were also two fundamental flaws in the whole picture.
Firstly, the seat he was sitting in wasn’t there 10 years ago; in fact, it was not in
existence even five years before him, since this college was just as old. Five years.
Secondly, there was nothing wrong about learning things that had been taught 10
years ago. 2+2 = 4 has been in vogue for ages, written or oral. It would be pretty
incorrect to change it to 2+2 = 10. Given a chance, Abe would have argued that
2+2 is actually equal to 10. This emerges, he’d well say, from the normal human
brain, bearing direct descent from [or, to satiate the theological lot — ascent from]
the Devonian fish with ten phalanges — to comprehend a 10-based numeral system.
Abe, however, considered himself to be a flawed descendant. He took no
offence to the word descent, since it was as good as ascent. His argument would
have stated, that given a base-4 system, 2+2 would actually equal 10. Or, maybe
01, given your ability or a birth-enforced disposition to read from right to left or
left to right. This was all for the sake of argument. The main pain-area of the whole
matter was that given the rapid pace of industrial development, the technology
aspect being forcibly taught was used by his parents and people of their time too
— when they were of Abe’s age — but not necessarily due to the prohibitive cost
of technology of the time.
No modern-day astronomer would be caught dead with the drawing of
the Earth, held up on the back of a turtle swimming in an ocean, with the stars,
the Sun and the Moon revolving above. Likewise, no modern-day process
plant would be found working on outdated instrumentation, which Abe was
learning about.
There was very little to despair for the greater good.
The study course was being revamped, but for the batch to which Abe
belonged… it was too late. They would be the last martyrs to the age-old belief
that old is gold.
This was the proverb for an antique shop salesman, not for Abe.
Abe felt exasperated. It was a beautiful day outside, yet its effect didn’t permeate
inside or into the classroom. Forever cut-off, it was like being inside some black-
hole with a selective filter. What appalled Abe the most was the fact that the
beautiful day did little to improve the mood of the lecturer. Probably, it was the
boring subject matter. Teaching crap is possibly more boring than learning it. The
learner or the listener has the choice to tune out the teacher or the speaker. The
speaker didn’t have this privilege.

4 BEING ICY COOL

 Abe, having realized a choice could be made, decided to exercise it. He opened
a blank page in his notebook and started doodling. The best thing about doodling
is that the person doodling doesn’t have to consciously control the movement of
the pen. It moves on its own, as if guided by the mind through telekinesis. Call it
automatic writing. But Abe couldn’t doodle. This was a regular vexation for him.
His mind, bearing witness to flawed descent, unlike his ancestors, couldn’t swim
around in the void of the ocean, without aim or direction, on auto-pilot. It required
conscious effort to do anything to manipulate reality. So he wrote:
“Why are we here? Why on such a beautiful day, we choose to stay in a lifeless
concrete enclosure filled with a mass of humanity which we have an aversion to?”
His misanthropic nature was not a hidden virtue. He’d rather have a photograph
without humans and a piece of music without the human voice making a ruckus
along with it.
He continued, “I think maybe I know the answer. I may be wrong, but at least
it is a thought. We sit here to gain knowledge. Knowledge, which we may use to
advance our economic and social status in this clutter of humans we call society.
Yep! We, as soldiers of fortune, march out on our own on the road to success. This
is success that we measure on the lines of how much we have earned — not how
much toil we put in, or how many heads we stepped on our way to the pinnacle of
glory.”
This was also the part where Abe’s imagination would picture crampon boots
mashing over a sea of heads. This may have emerged from undiscovered, mild
autism or maybe it was just his mind connected more vividly with images than
words, or even people around him. The lecturer decided to walk down the aisle,
but that was no problem for Abe. He knew being seated in the first row always
ensured the lecturer assumed that you knew the answers and not ask you questions.
After all, when you sit in the front row, the hot seat, you need to know something.
Else you should have lots of guts and a thick skin to be able to deflect any pointed
insults that may come your way on being discovered. Abe was of a different kind.
He had the ability to put on a face that said, “I know it all, dude. I just wrote a
thesis for my PhD on that.” So, he sat in the first row. Always. Well, almost always.
The lecturer, having now found some other sorry soul doodling in his notebook,
was emptying all her anger onto the hapless chap.
While she was at it, Abe wrote, “We sit here to make sure that we slog our
whole lives trying to get richer and richer. We don’t pause for a moment to enjoy
the fresh air, the beautiful sunrise, the first drizzle, but we continue on our never-
ending search for that elusive thing — happiness. We measure happiness on the
basis of mounds of shiny metal in our coffers, or numbers we associate with our
bank balance. Still, we will never be happy. On the summit of success we see the

BEING ICY COOL 5

sky above us as if mocking at our attempt to reach infinity. Yes, we will never be
happy, because infinity cannot be reached.”
Abe had arrived at this conclusion a long time ago. But just for the heck of it,
he too was running the rat race. It gave him a sense of satisfaction, or rather a deep
sense of dissatisfaction that seemed like satisfaction — that he was doing something.
He wrote: “There will be a time when we can be happy. After having spent our
whole life running after happiness, we die. We hear people silently cursing us for
making them spend a beautiful day at the cemetery, or those who we dislike say
good things about us. We often ‘settle scores’ on this beautiful day. Revenge is
sweet, but I have heard the dead can’t hear…”
The lecture over, Abe decided to skip the next one. He had company for this
mission. This was his friend, Nilesh.

6 BEING ICY COOL

 2. IIn
n t r o d u c in g N
Niil e s h

They say that opposites attract. It is not known who those ‘they’ are, but
when it came to Abe and Nilesh, nothing better proved ‘their’ statement. Given
their profiles [Abe and Nilesh], nobody could say that the duo shared even a single
conversation together. On the contrary, they were the best of friends. Their
association started on the day the college began. Abe found Nilesh seated behind
him, claiming to be from a school which, Abe felt, produced intelligent, but absolute
bozos. To Abe, Nilesh was not exactly a bozo — it seemed that their wavelength
matched to some extent. This was where their similarities ended.
Nilesh was suave, a natural lady-charmer. He’d disagree, but Abe would
back up his claim with numbers. Nilesh was also passionate about his waistline
and food. Though these two passions don’t go well together, he managed to
strike the right balance. He also liked playing tennis and pranks. He was a good
singer. He hated computers and engineering alike and suffered from Monday
morning sickness — a dislike for spending two hours of the first day of the week
doing carpentry or plumbing in the workshop. He also had a no-nonsense attitude
towards other people, which he relaxed a little for Abe. This was probably why
they were such good friends. Abe and Nilesh were different. Abe wasn’t anything
that Nilesh was. He was, well, different.

BEING ICY COOL 7

 3. IIm
mp ro b a bl e, P
Prro b a bl e

The two friends managed to escape from the class after the first lecturer left
and the other entered. They, as usual, went to their hideout. It was not exactly a
hideout. There was nothing like a hideout on their college campus.
The first thought that struck Abe about the campus, on seeing it for the first
time, was, “Gosh, it is so naked.” He had begun to imagine a fierce gun-battle
raging on the campus and the apparent difficulty anyone could face while going
from one block to the other.
The so-called hideout was a secluded place on the north side of Block-B. It
was the perfect location for people not wanting to attend classes on such a beautiful
day. Funnily, Nilesh and Abe were the only ones there. It didn’t matter to them.
Their spot was empty and they flopped down there. Both of them liked the place
for a reason. Trees. It was shady and cool. To top it all, there was a clearing in the
foliage above. While the Sun did not shine on them directly, the sky would still be
visible without hindrance. This had another advantage too. Sitting under trees
afforded the hazard of being targeted by frightened or pissed-off birds. To be hit
by bird droppings was less probable. Abe proved to Nilesh through trajectory
calculations, compounded with vectorial deflection by wind, the probability of a
bird actually wanting to ‘drop’ into a clearing barely 12 feet across on two loafing
individuals. This theory was soon rewarded, not by a Nobel Prize in Physics, but
by Nilesh’s thwack on Abe’s head with a large textbook.
Great minds tend to think at the most inappropriate times. Nilesh and Abe
were soon engaged in a rather one-sided discussion relating to probabilities, while
lying on the grass and watching the clouds float by.
“So, what do you think? Probability of everything happening or not happening
lies between 0 and 1,” rambled Abe, while Nilesh was trying to wonder if the last
cloud that went by was a Double Sundae or Black Forest Delight. “This means,
everything, however improbable, is actually probable until something otherwise
has already happened. After all, we only talk of probability of events that are yet
to occur. Otherwise, the probability of the event simply shifts invariably and
unchangeably to either 0 or 1.” A whimper from Nilesh indicated that he was not
exactly enjoying it. Abe knew it was weak resistance.
He pressed on, “Now, consider knowledge. We don’t have it all. We are here
and we’ll spend another two-and-a-half years trying to gain some. What is the
probability that we will gain anything, if at all, out of it?”
“Given the present circumstances, as we are skipping lectures, the probability
of us not gaining something is right now tipping towards 1,” interjected Nilesh.

8 BEING ICY COOL

 “This is not true, although I certainly wish I could gain all the knowledge
about how to exist, at one go, conveniently indexed. Now, what is the probability
of this thing happening within the next 30 minutes? It is certainly not zero. And if
an event ensuring this were to occur right now, your needle of probability, which
is tipping towards 1, would tilt to zero and remain stuck there forever.”
“Yeah, you are talking about an improbable event happening to two lousy
loafers who have nothing better to do than lie down on the lawn and talk about
probability. Now, what is the probability of that happening?” “I say zero!” said
Nilesh.
Abe responded, “On the contrary, my dear idler friend, since we are already
here, that part of the event has already happened and the probability of the other
part of the event happening too is pushed towards 1 and not zero. In addition, I
can guarantee you that the probability of you jumping to your feet in the next 10
seconds is 1.”
“Crap!” said Nilesh, “You need a bull charging at me to make me do that!”
Abe laughed and said, “I guess the 8-legged arachnid skittering on your shirt
should be enough.”
“Argh!” retorted Nilesh as he jumped to his feet jerking the hairy apparition
off his shirt, and joining Abe in his hysterical laughter. Then abruptly the two
stopped. “Say, now that is improbable!” as they stared at a 3-foot circular patch on
the grass which seemed to be getting a full blast of sunshine.
“How does sunlight that is not even directly overhead produce a patch three
feet across when the clearing is at least four times across?” asked Abe.
He didn’t get an answer. He was not looking for one. There was a good reason
— the reason being that the intensity of light was growing by the moment. Soon,
it reached a level where it was no more possible to look at it without shielding the
eyes. Then it happened. Just as abruptly the light had appeared, it vanished too. It
took some time for Abe, temporarily blinded by the light, to be able to see anything.
It felt as if he had walked into a dark room after spending a good deal of time
outside on a bright, sunny afternoon.
The recovery complete, he realized that the glow had left an artefact. It was
a small object about the size of A-4 paper, its thickness encompassing 25 such
pages put together. It was shaped like a book and in all respects looked like one —
and it was as green as grass.

BEING ICY COOL 9

 4. Q
QWW ERT Y o r DVO R A K
DV

“What the fish is that?” asked Abe. As an unspoken rule, both Abe and Nilesh
desisted from using the actual 4-letter expletive.
Abe was in no mood to wait for Nilesh to respond. He was already bending
over the curious object that was lying in the grass. He had a deep feeling that this
was something not ordinary. There was nothing groundless in that feeling. After
all, how many things actually drop out of nowhere in a blinding flash of light and
are normal? For Trekkies, this would be pretty normal. “Beam me up, Scotty!” is
probably the most famous phrase Captain James Tiberius Kirk reportedly never
used, although it’s been attributed to him. However, even a hardcore Trekkie
would surely be surprised if a Klingon were to materialize in their drawing
room, while watching Star Trek.
Abe found the thing to be somewhat cold. He actually expected it to be warm.
He was imagining a fiery entry into the Earth’s atmosphere, wherein friction would
drive up the temperatures in the thousands range. But he realized that the thought
was absurd. If the object had taken the normal entry route through the Earth’s
atmosphere, assuming it came from outer space, the object would not have just
plopped down on the grass without leaving a sizable crater. By trying to push the
equations of terminal velocity and gravitational acceleration floating in his head,
out into the void of space, Abe was playing with the absurdity of expectation. All
was valid as long as the event was normal. This event was not normal. “Logically
illogical,” thought Abe. “This one is definitely not normal, so the object not being
warm is certainly normal… Abnormally normal.”
He picked it up. It was seemingly a simple electronic gadget, with a
translucent rectangle at the top, which seemed to be a kind of display. A little
below, he saw there was some kind of activity. It was as if the object was re-
organizing its structure. Abe half expected it to be some kind of a door that
opened for a small alien to pop out, and say, “Hello Earthling! I come in peace.
Take me to your leader!”
“Logically illogical!” thought Abe, again. How would the alien know he was an
Earthling, a resident of Earth? How would the alien know the 3rd rock from the Sun
was actually called ‘Earth’, that too only by a select part of the large population of
life that inhabits it? How would it know the existence of a societal structure among
the most dominant species of ‘Earth’? And lastly how would it know that Abe, a
representative of life on ‘Earth’, understood English?
While he was running berserk with his thought train, Abe felt a kind of a
funny singing sound in his head. It was just like singing of electric wires, which
seems to happen at times. Most people never notice this because we have no
time to look around and try to figure out sounds coming from somewhere. But

10 BEING ICY COOL

Abe had this habit. He was a kind of person who had some difficulty
comprehending simple spoken words, but was able to pinpoint the source and
reason for a sound that no one else would hear. Surprisingly, he was not able to
place the source of this sound. It was kind of confusing. It seemed the sound was
coming from inside his head and all logic defied the existence of the sound. Abe
knew his brain was not exactly a sound-producing organ.
His thought train was interrupted by something that appeared on the display
screen of the object. It read, “Interesting thoughts! QWERTY or DVORAK?”
The words QWERTY and DVORAK were flashing alternately. Abe was kind of
confused. The first line made sense. His thoughts had at least been somewhat
interesting. But the second line didn’t make sense. Then he got the question. The
question was about what kind of input keyboard he desired. This was apparent
from the fact that the re-arrangement on the object’s surface had created
something similar to a keyboard. He must have thought in some corner of his
mind it was QWERTY, since the output now read, “QWERTY it is!”

***

5. T h e F ir s t Q
Quues tio n

Abe watched the changing structure on the surface as it formed itself into the
QWERTY keyboard.
“Your request has been granted!”
The words were accompanied by the ebbing and disappearance of the singing
sound.
“Let me introduce myself.”
Words continued to form on the display.
“I am the ‘Guide to Existence.’”
“To explain my presence here, you first need to understand the Theory of
Multiverses.”

BEING ICY COOL 11

 6. T h e o r y o f Mul t i v e r s e s
Mu

The display started changing rapidly, scrolling the text, but only as fast as Abe
could read it.
“Multiverses are a result of the laws surrounding the Big Bang. To the
uninitiated, this is the event that brought all the universes into existence. The
perspective to the whole event cannot be explained to an individual in a direct
way since an individual is constrained by the limited perspective of their small
segment… of their own instance of the multiverse compounded by the limited
awareness of dimensions. It is like trying to explain to an individual, who is a part
of a 2-D existential instance, that there is another plane or another existential
instance above him. It would not make sense to the individual since s/he doesn’t
know the meaning of ‘above’ , or correctly put, s/he lacks the ability to be aware
of ‘Above’.
Hence, poetic liberties with similes are put to use to explain the multiverses.
The Big Bang is like, well simply put, a big bomb going off. The basic law that we
picture in this event is that of ‘Conservation of Momentum.’ According to it, we
see that the movement of individual fragments moving away is directly related to
the movement of other fragments to bring the sum total of momentum to zero.
The Big Bang in the nth dimension is also similar. Now, though this is an unexplained
postulate, owing to the limitation of granularity of ‘matter’ at that level, the
explosion resulted not only in fragments of the lowest possible size, but also of the
same size.
Like in bomb fragments the individual fragment is not necessarily inert; it
could be dynamically evolving as it moves further. This, effectively, is the
occurrence of diverse events following the occurrence of the Big Bang. However,
this is seen only for the singular fragment or universe instance.
From a broader perspective, fragments moving in relatively similar directions
are linked to each other. By certain methods, it is possible to traverse across such
interlinked universes. There are chances that the progression of events is similar; it
may also be possible to find individuals who are exact copies of individuals from
your own instance of the Universe.”
To Abe, this was pretty heavy-duty stuff as the concept of ‘above’ would be
to the resident of a two-dimensional world. The next question was quite obvious,
“Why me?”
The Guide was ready for this. The display continued to scroll showing new
words.
“Abehin and Niehin were perplexed with the same question as maybe you
are. Do you know the question? Niehin was the first to come up with it. Abehin

12 BEING ICY COOL

only helped him figure out the answer. Well, this Guide won’t tell you the question.
If you have the Guide, you already know the question. It is time to go after the
answer. Abehin and Niehin created the Guide and had it published. While it was
received pretty well in their Universe, they felt the need to pass on their perspective
to their counterparts in other universes. So, here, you have it in your hands.”
“Why call it the First Universe?” asked Abe.
“It is called the First Universe because it’s the First Universe to stumble upon
the question and try to answer it. You may also ask how you can be sure of that.
The fact is, any instance of the Universe that finds the answer will try to tell the
other universes that are closest. This will propagate till everyone knows the answer.
Since the First Universe never got the answer from another Universe, Abehin and
Niehin took the privilege to call it the ‘First Universe’ — the First Universe that
attempted to answer the question.
Abehin and Niehin were not the first to try and give the answer to the question.
Over 2,500 years ago, as measured by our time scales, Moserahin had also tried
doing it. He, however, chose to share the answer only with his close confidants
and not with the residents of his own Universe. So, his work is believed to be lost,
as seen by the First Universe. The only thing known about it is — a part of its name
was a number, number 10.
The last question which seems to be in your mind, right now, and which
follows the logical sequence of questions, is that why the Guide is referred as ‘it’,
when you seem to be reading from it. The Guide is referred as ‘it’ since it is not
what you are reading it from. What you are reading it from is a translator device
that converts the Guide’s contents into a language understood by you. Do you
think your language is the lingua franca of all the multiverses? Of course not! I
read into your synaptic signals and generate the required translation algorithm.”
******
“All right, it is nearly time for a break. We need to get out of here. I am damn
hungry,” Nilesh said as if he was feeling drowsy. Abe looked at Nilesh. He was just
sitting up and brushing off the grassy artefacts that clung to the back of his shirt.
Abe was quite perplexed. Was Nilesh not standing by him a moment ago? He
wondered why, whilst at the threshold of such an important discovery, all Nilesh
could think of was food. He wondered what Niehin would be like. Or, maybe,
Nilesh had a different purpose to fulfil in this Universe. He also wondered how
Abehin would be like. There was one difference between him and Abehin. Unlike
Abehin, he already knew the question. And in the midst of this, Abe forgot the
most important question he’d have asked.

BEING ICY COOL 13

Being Icy Cool is a racy, “sepia-tinted” novel of college life.
It revolves around Abe, the protagonist, and his two
friends, Nilesh and Kanani — their ups and downs… and of
growing up beyond the shackles of what's right and what
isn't wrong…

It also holds a mirror that reflects only one image. Your own
— while you're in college!

This novel depicts the life and times of avant-garde collegian

Abe — his nature, character, progress, metamorphosis and
eventual destiny.

Abe is the typical boy next door, all right.

By the expression, 'boy next door,' you are often tempted to

think of a Greek God living secretly for a while — to allow some
mysterious curse to wear off.

Not Abe, who is effectively a master of underplay.

What's more, Abe does not carry a cape and “fly” around the
world. He'll also never “fall” for the most beautiful babe in town,
even when he's “hypnotized” by her alluring eyes.

Why? Because, Abe carries a resolute mind — a mind blessed

with imaginative flair… a mind that takes him to the pinnacle of
glory and also derision.

In other words, Abe is a winner who feels he's a loser… no less.

ISBN 978-81-8372-043-4

9 788183 720434

Fiction Rs 250