Sultana

There was a time when I often thought deeply about the existence of humans and the sky. In truth, the sky and humanity seem bound together through mutual atomic energy, connected in a parallel harmony that points toward a three-dimensional formula. Humans themselves seem like a formula—receiving information from one source to another through the medium of air. If that source were another planet, and if even the light from a battery in your hand could become a medium, then how could such communication exist without electricity? These thoughts consumed Sultana’s mind.

A chair and a table were arranged neatly in the room. In one corner lay several books for job examinations. Amid countless tests and struggles, discovery itself seemed to peek out from the shadows. Sultana had faced many examinations in life, including the harsh test of existence itself. Though her exam papers never spoke of her discoveries, she had developed ideas surrounding Miller’s 1 1 0 and the following numerical concepts—alongside atomic and nuclear energy, where the sequence -1 0 1 represented a power centered on humanity and Earth itself.

From this, she imagined the concept of 0 0 0, symbolizing a planet called “Neuter.” It represented a T-level three-dimensional force, expressed through red and blue light. Though these lights were not perfectly parallel, they formed a curved path orbiting around two planets through both physical and dimensional forces.

With deep concentration, Sultana continued testing the results of her discoveries and exploring a formula more delicate than even F = ma—a concept capable of measuring time on a scale finer than Planck time itself. To her, this measurement was not merely an invention, but a central force capable of transmitting information from one planet to another with ease.

There was once a time when Earth sent signals into space in search of aliens. If humans could send signals from one planet to another, then surely some formula or medium existed behind it—similar to the methods once used to detect extraterrestrial life. Developing such theories across countless papers required years of effort, and within that process Sultana had built an identity of her own. Because if aliens never received those signals, humanity would inevitably question its own existence—an existence tied deeply to Earth and the atomic potential of mankind.

Sultana believed that her formula might one day change the world. Humanity might learn to calculate air, or even the fourth dimension, in an entirely new way. Perhaps it was not something distant at all, but rather a nearby central force—one capable of piercing through time and recognizing another form of existence.

New curtains had recently been hung in the room. Though Sultana did not consider them extraordinary, she had earned a respected place within her husband’s family. The bed was neatly arranged, with a small table beside it. And there was her husband—the man who had become one of the greatest inspirations behind her discoveries.

Sultana: “Your stubborn nature still hasn’t changed.”

(She lets out a long sigh.)

Sphatik: “Your tea.”

Sultana: “That’s why your name is Sphatik.”

(She embraces her husband.)

Sphatik: “It wouldn’t have been so bad if my name appeared somewhere in your discoveries. Maybe then you’d think about me a little more.”

Sultana: “That’s why the feminists wrote Sultana’s Dream.”

Sphatik: “Since when did you become a feminist?”

Sultana: “Women’s freedom is beautiful and resilient.

Woman, you are crimson, Like the Krishnachura blossoms they once spoke of. Woman, you are serenity, For whom the fireflies feel blessed beside the window. If your voice rises in the midnight air, You will become its light. And if unfamiliar clouds begin to fall, You will become their companion. You are unique— Woman, you are the blood-stained earth.”

Sphatik: “If the world were made of fireflies, You would be the midnight itself.”

Sultana: “Have you ever seen mango blossoms?”

Sphatik: “Are you that blossom?”

Sultana: “Does the earth know your longing?”

Sphatik: “Perhaps I’ve left my longing within your kohl-lined eyes.”

Sultana: “Was I even wearing kohl?”

Though Sultana was not always organized, to Sphatik she was both humorous and mysterious—a woman who understood quantum mysteries less than she understood the heart of her husband.

Sphatik left the room. Outside, the sky darkened with signs of heavy rain approaching. Sultana gathered her notebooks and clothes before going to sit with her father-in-law.

Her father-in-law, Rahim Sahib, was still strong and lively. His spirit carried a warm sense of humor.

Rahim: “Isn’t it time for tea yet?”

Their conversation grew warmer, like a gentle southern breeze.

Though Rahim was her father-in-law, he never drew a line between daughter and daughter-in-law. Their bond had deepened over time.

Sultana returned once more to her room. Her thoughts sank even deeper—how could atomic forces be used to send information from one planet to another? If electricity was absent, then some other medium must exist. And if that medium were magnetic or air-based, perhaps communication across planets could become easier.

Outside, rain poured endlessly. Lost in thought, Sultana eventually fell asleep. Sphatik looked toward the corner of the room and saw his Krishnachura resting peacefully. He quietly arranged her books and papers before stepping out to speak with his father, while his mother prepared snacks in the kitchen.

Suddenly, thunder roared across the sky. Nature itself seemed to express its own language. And together, everything became like a painted story drifting gently through the wind.