February 24, 2011
By Mobama BRONZE, Gujranwala, Other
Mobama BRONZE, Gujranwala, Other
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I am staring out the window, seeing things move. I stand still and everything moves but when I run, some things stop. Relativity, I need to find its equation. Because everything is an equation and this one will change the world. But what is the equation? This? No, that can’t be right. Umm… No, that is too elusive even to myself.
It is a race between me and that shrewd mathematician, that foul excuse of a man of science.I should not have given that lecture. Time is ticking. It is ticking in my brain, filling it, clouding it. I need to breathe, yes, I need to be calm. I should take a glass of water.

Argh, I know it is quantitative, explainable, justifiable, oh dammit, why am I making a poem out of this. Focus, focus, focus. Hocus pocus. Focus, Albert, focus. Again with the songs! S***!

Sleep, maybe I need sleep.

The brain does not dim out if it is in action. Damn this adrenaline. Damn this excitement. Damn the need that drives me. Damn everything, but not the equation.

That was my favorite vase. I should sweep the glass off the floor at least. No, I haven’t the time.

What could it be? Oh no, this one is absolutely bogus.

Wait, what is that? How is that possible, it can’t be! All my calculations are wrong?! All that effort, those two years I couldn’t point it out?

Could it be that my whole theory is rotten? What shall I put in the paper! They all want it, I can’t not have anything.

No, I can feel it. This is the only rationalization.

Maybe I was wrong before this as well. I should open the drawers and recheck my previous findings.

This did not make sense—it is why I crossed it out in the first place. Or does it?


Oh- my- God.

Oh my sweet, merciful God.

I had it right all along.

I had it right always.

I guess, Albert, you are going to win that Nobel Prize after all.

The author's comments:
The thing I hate most is when people try to interpret what people who have died and were geniuses and prodigies in every right, used to think, or thought. Because their genius should not be played with. However, this piece is about how Einstein (probably) was frustrated before he published his paper on the theory of relativity

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