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"The Universe: A Book Whose First Page We’ve Yet to Read"

Where Time Stops, the Universe Begins"

By Sadaa-e-LamakanPublished 7 months ago 3 min read

The Universe: A Book Whose First Page Remains Unread

Where silence gave birth to time… and stars whispered the secrets of creation.

Have you ever stood beneath the night sky — really stood still and looked up?

Not just with your eyes, but with your soul?

That endless ocean of stars, that vast curtain of mystery —

it doesn't just shine, it calls.

And if you’ve ever listened closely,

you’ve heard it ask:

Where did I come from? Why do I exist? What lies beyond?

This isn’t just curiosity.

It’s the deepest question a mind can ask.

A question that leads us straight into the heart of the cosmos.

🌟 In the Beginning: Nothing… Then Everything

Before there was light, time, or even darkness — there was nothing.

Not a void. Not emptiness. Nothing at all.

Then, in a moment beyond imagination,

the Big Bang occurred.

An instant that birthed everything: matter, time, space — the universe itself.

Not a blast, but a beginning.

A point smaller than an atom erupted into existence.

And the universe began to expand, sing, and evolve —

unfolding like a story written in the language of stars.

🌌 What Is the Universe Made Of?

Surprisingly, everything we can see — stars, planets, galaxies —

makes up less than 5% of the entire cosmos.

The rest is unseen, but not unfelt:

Dark Matter: Invisible, yet it binds galaxies together like invisible scaffolding.

Dark Energy: A mysterious force, pushing the universe apart faster every second.

We live in a shadow world,

surrounded by mysteries more real than our own reflections.

🔭 A Universe in Motion: The Dance of Creation

Across this vast canvas, wonders unfold:

Galaxies swirl like cities of light.

Nebulae bloom where stars are born.

Stars burn, live, and die in fiery beauty.

Black Holes bend time and space into knots of infinity.

Planets drift like islands, and perhaps some cradle life just like Earth.

The entire universe is a cosmic dance,

and we — tiny, thinking beings — have just opened our eyes to it.

🧠 We Are Stardust: Consciousness Awakens

Among all this grandeur, something unique happened:

Life. Thought. Awareness.

We, humans, are made from the same elements forged in ancient stars.

Atoms that once burned in suns now form our minds.

And with those minds,

we question, explore, and imagine.

We are not just in the universe.

We are the universe, trying to understand itself.

⏳ Time Isn’t What We Think It Is

Once, we believed time was constant.

Einstein shattered that illusion.

Near a massive star or a black hole, time slows.

Far from gravity, it speeds up.

This means time flows differently across the universe.

The past, present, and future may be woven far more strangely than we know.

🧬 Is There Life Beyond?

With billions of galaxies and even more planets,

can Earth really be the only place where life bloomed?

It seems unlikely.

Perhaps, somewhere, other minds gaze at their stars,

wondering if they’re alone — just as we do.

Science hasn’t found them yet,

but the silence may just mean:

We’re still learning how to listen.

🌠 How Will It All End?

No one knows for sure,

but the universe may face one of many fates:

The Big Freeze: Everything grows cold and dark as expansion continues.

The Big Crunch: The universe collapses back into a single point.

The Big Rip: Dark energy tears space apart, ending all structure.

Each possibility is as terrifying as it is poetic.

And perhaps, a new universe will be born again —

as silently as the first.

📖 The Final Thought: A Story Just Begun

The universe is not just physics.

It is poetry written in particles,

music played in gravity,

mystery etched in light.

We have barely turned the first page of its grand story.

And yet, even in our smallness,

we carry its spark.

Look up tonight.

Let wonder fill you.

And remember:

You are not outside the universe.

You are part of its unfolding dream

Science

About the Creator

Sadaa-e-Lamakan

I don’t write from memory, but from silence.

Each word is a zikr, each pause a prayer.

These stories don’t speak — they descend.

This is Sadaa-e-Lamakan: a doorway where ink is light and meaning is surrender.

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