Tag: spiritual physics

chapter 21- Entanglement: The Hidden Thread of Unity

Imagine a universe where nothing is separate—not even for a moment. A universe where every particle, every star, and every human heart is silently connected through an invisible thread. This hidden thread is quantum entanglement, and it may be the most profound clue we have to understanding the unity of existence. What begins in physics soon expands into life, society, consciousness—and even spirituality.

If spin is the rhythm of creation, position is its stage, energy is its fuel, charge is its attraction and repulsion, and mass is its weight, then entanglement is the invisible thread that binds everything together.

Entanglement is one of the most mysterious qualities of quantum particles. It means that two or more particles, once connected, remain linked even if they fly apart across the universe. What happens to one immediately affects the other, as though an unseen string ties their destinies together.

To understand it in simple terms, imagine two lamps that were once lit from the same spark. No matter how far you take them—one on a mountain, another deep in a valley—their glow flickers in harmony. When one shifts, the other responds. This is how entanglement works. It defies distance and time, whispering that unity never truly breaks, even when diversity blooms everywhere.

Unity Beneath Diversity

Creation looks like diversity to our eyes: stars, rivers, animals, trees, and people. Everything seems separate. Yet entanglement suggests there is a deep oneness running beneath this seeming separation. Like a spider’s web, invisible yet holding all its strands, entanglement ensures that the cosmos is not a scattered puzzle but a woven tapestry.

Why not call entanglement an analogy to human society, where each member interacts with all the members to live and earn livelihood together? With this cooperation both manufacture various structures and machineries in a similar way. One insight emerges from here. Take an example: quantum particles make human eyes; humans make cameras. Both are similar, so the maker of both also proves similar. It also means both work in a cooperative society through similar 5 work senses, feel through 5 feeling senses, think with mind, decide with intellect, and have all bhavas, emotions, rasas, and arishadvargas. Simply, the qualities we see in humans are reflections of deeper cosmic principles already present at the fundamental level.

When the first quantum particles emerged, they did not float around in isolation. They carried within themselves silent connections with others. Because all are the children of single mother space. Each collapse of entangled particles did not just decide the fate of one—it shaped the destiny of both and probably even all to more or less extent, simultaneously, no matter how far apart they were. This synchronicity became the secret glue of creation.

Human’s married and family life can be understood through an analogy with quantum entanglement: just as one particle can be maximally entangled with only one partner and only partially with others, a husband is maximally entangled with his wife and indirectly with their children through her, while maintaining partial entanglements with society. Multipartite quantum entanglement fully resembles the family unit, where husband, wife, and children form a shared web of connections. If a person had a deep love affair before marriage, he became maximally entangled with that lover, and therefore cannot form maximal entanglement with his wife but only a partial one, exactly reflecting the monogamy and distribution rules of quantum entanglement. That is why purity is preferred for marriage, and society considers this a valid reason. If someone is accused of loving another partner, he or she is maligned and dishonoured. Similarly, In school and college life, students who get into romantic or sexual relationships with someone of the opposite sex tend to show less bonding with other classmates. This simply means that quantum particles behave very similarly to human beings in terms of family and social relationships, symbolically proving non-duality at all levels.

In Indian Darshana, this resonates with the idea of Advaita—the non-duality of existence. Just as the children of a mother are indirectly entangled with each other through their one shared mother, in the same way all quantum particles — or everything in existence — is entangled to some degree through the one shared mother: space itself. It is a reverse analogy, but it explains the idea clearly.

The Choosy Collapses of Entanglement

So how does entanglement guide creation? It does so through its choosy collapses.

When two entangled particles exist in superposition, each remains a cloud of possibilities until one collapses into a definite state, instantly shaping the state of the other. This is not merely a passive reaction but a creative choice of nature. In a deeper sense, all particles arise from the same shared space — the single ‘mother’ of creation — and therefore carry faint traces of connection with all others, just as children remain indirectly linked through their mother. Although modern physics shows that strong entanglement fades through decoherence, the underlying unity of space and quantum fields suggests a subtle background interconnectedness. Every collapse, every quantum decision, participates in shaping the unfolding cosmos, reflecting the profound non-duality behind the dance of forms.

This is also evident from the fact that every event in the body and even cosmos is connected to the past, future, and even processes occurring elsewhere in nature. For example, when strong stomach acid enters the mouth during vomiting, there is an immediate profuse flow of saliva to neutralize it; otherwise, the acid would dissolve the teeth. This hints at entanglement occurring even at the macroscopic level.

If two entangled particles must always be opposite in spin, when one chooses “up,” the other instantly becomes “down.” If one locks into a position, the other aligns correspondingly. It is similar to the case of two people arguing: when one becomes angry, the other calms down to maintain harmony. In the same way, married life works better when one partner embodies a more masculine energy and the other a more feminine energy. This coordination echoes everywhere in creation. It is as though nature whispers, “Even in difference, remain one.”

Through countless such coordinated and harmonical collapses, the universe maintains order — galaxies stay together instead of flying into chaos, atoms form stable molecules, and even human hearts feel subtle connections across distances. Entanglement is not just a physical phenomenon; it is the universe’s way of reminding us that, beneath everything, we are all connected.

Entanglement and Living Beings

Look at how life mirrors this principle. A mother feels the cry of her child even from miles away. Twins often sense each other’s moods without speaking. Friends think of calling each other at the same moment. Science may call this coincidence, but at its root lies the same mysterious entanglement that connects all existence.

Just as quantum particles collapse together, our lives, too, are woven in collapses of destiny. The choices of one being ripple through the web, shaping the path of another. Entanglement makes the cosmos less like a machine of cold parts and more like a living organism, breathing in unity.

In simple forest tribes or small rural communities, people often feel more emotionally connected, because their lives are quieter, slower, and less filled with distractions. In crowded metro societies, this emotional ‘coherence’ breaks down due to noise, stress, and constant mental clutter — very similar to how quantum entanglement disappears in particles when they interact too much with their environment. This is the social equivalent of decoherence. Yet even in big cities, a faint sense of connection still persists — between family members, close friends, or even strangers who suddenly understand each other without words. This lingering human coherence suggests that, just as some emotional entanglement survives in complex societies, a very tiny trace of quantum entanglement might also persist in complex and noisy natural objects. It would not be strong or useful like laboratory entanglement, but the fact that coherence never becomes zero hints at an underlying unity that never fully breaks.

Entanglement as the Harmony of Creation

Imagine a grand orchestra. Each instrument is unique, playing its own notes, yet all are tuned to a single rhythm, otherwise the music would be noise. Entanglement is that hidden rhythm. It ensures that even when the violin sings differently from the drum, both remain part of the same symphony.

Without entanglement, the world would splinter into lifeless fragments, like scattered beads without a thread. But because of it, the beads form a necklace—diverse in form, united in purpose.

Quantum Collapse: The Engine of Creation

At the heart of it all is quantum collapse. Creation is not a pre-written script. It is a live performance, each moment born afresh when a particle chooses one possibility out of many. Collapse is the great chooser, the silent decision-maker.

Entanglement adds depth to this act. One collapse does not happen alone—it carries others along, weaving a larger order. It is like dominoes falling in patterns, not randomly, but in carefully chosen designs that give rise to galaxies, stars, life, and consciousness.

Collapse is the engine that keeps creation moving, while entanglement ensures that the engine’s many parts remain in harmony. Together, they make sure the universe is not just a collection of accidents, but a living, breathing dance of unity and diversity.

Closing Thought

Entanglement teaches us that separation is only skin-deep. Beneath the surface, all existence remains connected. Every particle, every being, every star is part of a silent unity. When quantum particles collapse, they do not just create diversity—they reveal that this diversity never left its unity.

In this light, entanglement is not only a scientific puzzle but also a spiritual reminder: we are many, yet one; different, yet inseparably bound. Creation thrives on this truth, and collapse is the way it continuously paints the picture of unity within diversity.

Chapter 3: Can a Whole Body Fit Inside an Atom?

In the last chapter, we asked: if the entire universe is a holographic projection, then who is observing this cosmic screen?

That question is not separate from science. It’s the very heart of it.

Everything we see — the planets, the people, the pain, the play — all of it might be appearing on a kind of invisible surface, just like a 3D movie on a flat cinema screen. But unless someone is watching that screen, the movie doesn’t truly exist. So the most important question isn’t about how the movie appears, but who is sitting in the audience — silently witnessing the show.

This witness is not your eyes. Not your brain. It is the soul — the spacious, aware presence behind all perception. And it is not passive. It does something magical. It translates a flat image into a living, breathing experience.

That’s why we don’t just see shapes and colours. We feel love. We feel distances. We experience space. Why? Because the soul itself is not flat. It is three-dimensional space, infinite, silent, conscious — and from it, all volume and depth arise.

The brain helps process signals, but the soul gives depth to reality. Without it, everything would be flat and meaningless. That’s the secret behind our experience of life as a deep, vast, unfolding mystery.

This insight also helps us approach the central question of this chapter — can a whole body fit inside an atom?

At first glance, it sounds ridiculous. Our body has bones, skin, blood, thoughts, breath — how can all of that fit inside something smaller than a speck of dust?

But if you look deeper, you’ll discover a quiet miracle. Every cell of your body carries the entire blueprint of your form — your DNA. And DNA itself is smaller than what we can imagine, yet it contains everything — your eye shape, your voice, your sleep patterns, your tendencies. And DNA is made of atoms.

So, in a simple yet astonishing truth — your entire body is already folded inside the atom. Not physically, but informationally. Like a movie is stored inside a memory chip, your whole being is encoded inside the atomic architecture of your cells.

And the more we understand information, the more we realise that information doesn’t need volume. It only needs pattern. A single holographic pixel can carry the image of the whole — and this is true not just of science, but of our very existence.

In ancient Yogic vision, this was never news. The Rishis saw that the subtle body (sukshma sharira) holds the full record of all our lifetimes — not just the current one. These records aren’t written in ink, but in subtle ripples — samskaras — which move through our soul-space like gravitational impressions.

These ripples don’t die when the body dies. They stay. They vibrate quietly in the background of consciousness, waiting for conditions to rise again. Just like ripples in space don’t disappear after a star collapses — they stretch as gravitational waves, holding memory across eternity.

This means the human soul is a personal holographic space, containing subtle ripples, vibrational patterns, and emotional waves from countless lives. It is like a microcosmic version of the cosmos. And these ripples are held by prana — the subtle life force, just as in the universe, cosmic prana may be holding all gravitational memory after the end of galaxies.

So what scientists now begin to say — that the universe stores its history as stable gravitational waves — was already intuited by ancient seers. Our individual soul-space is a smaller echo of cosmic space — each carrying memory, pattern, and subtle desire. The universe is the macro-soul. We are its holographic reflections.

And now I must tell you something that confirmed this to me beyond theory.

I once had a powerful experience — a visitation in a dream — of a freshly departed soul. But it didn’t appear merely as the person I knew in this life; it was much more than that. It came as a deeply encoded field of identity. It felt like the average of all its lifetimes, distilled into a single compact vibration — heavy and dark, but not in an evil sense. More like dense light wrapped in darkness, or a sacred knot of memory — a concentrated bundle of impressions woven from countless experiences, identities, and emotions across time. It wasn’t chaotic, but felt intentionally held together, like a spiritual DNA preserving the soul’s essence. Sacred, because it bore the silent weight of eons — yet still a knot, because it hadn’t fully unraveled into freedom.

It was alive — more alive than ever, in a strange and quiet way. Yet I could see that its soul-space was compressed. It wasn’t empty, but it was concealing its personal identity within itself, folding inward like a lotus closed at night. Its core felt heavy, as if burdened by unresolved identity — by samskaras carried across eons. Simply put, or in a nutshell, it was like a space filled with complete darkness, yet invisibly encoding an individual identity within. Because of this encoding, I could unmistakably feel it as that same individual — fully alive — even though nothing was present except sheer, expansive darkness and silence. It was an astonishing kind of encoding. Perhaps it is akin to subtle gravitational ripples in space.

It was not tortured, but it was not free. Its experiential light — its vastness, its bliss, its clarity — was present, yet covered, veiled, or diminished. It appeared lesser than the state of a living human body. Had it appeared more — more radiant, more open — it would have been recognized as liberated. Though it believed itself to be liberated, this belief was shaped by illusion and carried a subtle doubt. It even asked me to confirm its liberation, but I denied. That subtle compression of soul-space — that invisible binding — was its true suffering. It didn’t recognize it as suffering, but I did. A man who has lived in a well for eons cannot know what lies beyond, but someone outside the well can see it — and point toward the truth. It wasn’t pain in the usual sense, but rather the quiet ache of being less than what one truly is — that is, absolute.

In that moment, I understood something profound — liberation is simply the release of these samskaras. It is the melting away of these inner gravitational waves. Liberation is not the end of life, but the end of compression. One may be sitting in a cave yet still be bound and compressed by samskaras, while another, even as a king amidst the world, may be entirely free of such compressions.

Just as a black hole may one day dissolve its trapped information into open space again, the bound soul too can release its encoded ripples and return to satchitananda — being, consciousness, and bliss — in their natural, free, shining form.

So what does this say about the universe?

The scriptures say even Brahma, the cosmic creator, has a lifespan. When the cosmic play ends, even he dissolves. But just like a soul, Brahma doesn’t vanish. He merges into infinite stillness — into Brahman, the pure, ripple-free field.

This is Mahapralaya — the Great Dissolution. But it’s not destruction. It is deep sleep. And from that silent space, one day, a new Brahma emerges — and with him, a new universe, a new screen, a new holograph.

Why? Because the infinite never runs out of potential. It doesn’t need desire to create. It simply flowers.

And so it is with you. When your samskaras melt, when your inner ripples calm, when your soul becomes like clear, still space — you don’t vanish. You shine. You become the screen and the observer — at once.

So yes — a whole body can fit inside an atom. Because the body is not merely flesh and bone; it is a vibration, a subtle blueprint, a densely compressed field of infinite memory and possibility. What we perceive as the physical body is only the outermost layer. At its core, it is energy — encoded with the entire history of one’s being across lifetimes — all folded into a single point of consciousness, much like how a vast hologram can be stored in a tiny fragment of space. Just as the energies and impressions of infinite lifetimes can remain encoded in the soul, the same kind of encoding can be stored within the space bound by the boundary of an atom. In that minuscule realm, unimaginable depth and memory can reside, hidden yet alive. Just as the portion of infinite space within the human head can hold unlimited energy patterns as encoded impressions, then why can’t the part of infinite space bound within an atom also hold the same — the energy patterns of a human, or even of the entire cosmos? It is not a matter of size; it is a matter of structure — of holography. In a holographic reality, the whole is reflected in every part. So even the smallest boundary, like that of an atom, can encode the vastness of existence within it.

And inside that atom — there may be a holograph of not just your form, but of your past, your future, and the entire cosmos.

You are not a fragment — not a broken or isolated piece of existence. You are a portal: a living doorway through which the infinite expresses itself. You do not merely belong to the universe; the universe flows through you. Within you lies access to all dimensions of being — from the deepest silence to the highest awareness. You are not a small part of reality; you are the point where reality opens, unfolds, and becomes self-aware.

You are not inside space. Space is inside you.

And the one watching all this — the one reading these words now — is not a character on the screen. It is the eternal observer, patiently waiting for you to remember:

You were never just the story.
You were the light behind it all.