bhaskar saikia

Reality is often treated as fixed—something external and immovable. Yet lived experience keeps reminding me otherwise. Reality shifts, quietly, with perception.

A recent field trip deepened this realization. Standing before a still water body, I watched a single ripple spread outward. It didn’t merely travel toward the shore; it altered the stillness itself. The surface was no longer the same after the disturbance. In that moment, it felt as though the ripple was not just moving through water, but gently tugging at the strings of reality—subtly reshaping the fabric of space and time around it.

What we call reality behaves much the same way. A thought, a choice, a moment of awareness—each sends ripples beyond its apparent boundary. We assume the world remains unchanged, but it doesn’t. It responds. It rearranges itself around perception.

Much of what we struggle with exists only as illusion—stories we repeat until they harden into truth. Reality, however, is fluid. It moves with attention, softens with understanding, and reshapes itself when we dare to see differently.

Perhaps reality is not something we discover, but something we continuously create. The rest is illusion—echoes of ripples we forgot we once set in motion.