Time Capsule

Got caught up in a metaphysical problem. Help me solve!

Consider any song with multiple beats per second. Listening to the song is an experience with skipped beats.

Now smoke to fly.

Consider the same song. Listening to the same song is a totally different experience now. The beats slow down. Each one can be counted on finger tips. Everything slows down. The same 'amount' of time passes on to listen to the complete song but it seems loooooooooooonger.

How?

If time is a physical in nature then shouldn't the song last longer than in sober time. The argument can go: "The song does seem longer. So whats the problem?"

The problem resides in the measuring device called clock. Both state experience different 'amount' of time, yet the clock shows the same count of seconds. How? I think the answer to the riddle lies in the attached link. Does it?

9 Lives, William Dalrymple

An ode to Krishna;

From the copper plates locked in a room in Tirupathi for centuries. Translated to English by poet A.K. Ramanujan.

You are handsome, aren’t you,
Adivaraha,
And quite skilled at it, too.

Stop these foolish games.
You hink there are no other men in these parts?
Asking for me on credit,
Adivaraha?
I told you even then
I won’t stand for your lies.
 

Handsome, aren’t you?

Prince of playboys, you may be,
But is it fair
To ask me to forget the money?
I earned it, after all,
By spending time with you.
Stop this trickery at once.
Put up the gold you owe me
And then you can talk
Avidaraha.
 

Handsome, aren’t you?

Young man:
Why are you trying to talk big,
As if you were Muvva Gopala?
You can make love like no one else,
But just don’t make promises
You can’t keep.
Pay up,
It’s wrong to break your word.

Handsome, aren’t you?

Vent Machine

You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.
 
He lost faith last week, he lost the purpose. He is one of those now.

You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.
 
Alone is a 5 letter short word he once said, 5 years is a long time.

You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.
 
There is a man down on the streets, he looks. There is an eye contact; ‘a man’ seeks help. It was an accident. The bike rear tire is still spinning. ‘A man’ is in pain. He looks closely; he is the only one who stood. ‘A man’ seeks help again. He takes him to a hospital. ‘A man’ loses him after the registration. He is in pain too.

You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.
 
“Wanna come for a smoke?” No answer. He disappears.
 
You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.

The art of rolling lies not in how strong ‘stuff’ you have. It lies in the crushing. He can go on about it for next half hour. He loves so many, materialistic is the word.

You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.

He is not really interested in what you have to say. The parallel universe keeps him focused on the needs.

You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.

He hates Sun! A glowing ball of fusion is no pretty sight for him. He wishes the dark to be the new dawn.

You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.

He bought everything that once he aspired. Did he mention: Angel!!!......*the beat kicks in now, the snare roll is being called*

You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.

He used to write, words keep him eluded now. It was 5 years.

You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.

He can turn simple/unwilling objects in ashtray. He is never out of light and smoke now. He smokes 10 times a day.

You breathe in and click a photograph. Thoughts follow you behind.