The galactic tango

 

It happened when the current universe was rather young. A huge star loitered too close to a super-massive black hole. Aah, the perils of proximity! It was torn apart with cosmic brutality, its proud mass shredded to pieces. Catastrophic and carnage wreaking. Its burning pyre, the blasting flare, shone with a brightness that would equal ten trillion suns.

The black hole had cosmic tools of cataclysm—tangled magnetic fields in heated gas disks—around it. It happened ten billion light years away from earth (one light year is about six trillion miles). It occurred so long ago and so far away that its flash reached an observatory on earth in 2025 only. The explosion happened when the universe was young and there was no earth. Just imagine the scale of cosmic events. Doesn’t that signify our insignificance in the galactic scheme of things?

A galaxy has a super-massive black hole at its center that gives it a spin like it’s revolving around an axis. O thou habitual chest-thumper, just imagine the power of such a black hole that keeps billions of stars around it in a colossal orbit. So the next time when you feel the weight of your own or someone else’s ego or pride or get blinded by someone’s grotesquely coquettish, towering light poles, just recall these mammoth facts. Then everything will get leveled up.

Just remember that everything and everyone are smaller than the sky above. Similarly, whatever happens on this tiny speck of dust—our little home, earth—is utterly, absolutely inconsequential in comparison to these cosmic behemoths.

All that we do is merely innocuous, impotent rant and cacophony. The funny and vainglorious humanity with its vaporous fumblings. So cast-n-crew, go on with your rabbits-out-of-hat-tricks, but always remember the above given colossal facts.